Ill Renegade~And~Rent~A~Blade..Basically Diminish~Your~Existence//
Kill You And Win This Gay Ass Battle Before I Finish~A~Sentence//
If tha game was ya "dick", you couldnt "GET UP"on this rap shit//
Youll "never SURPASS my BARS" like "chin-ups from a fat-chick"//
Attendance of sharks, I got this Kid Surrounded' like the Axis-to-the-Earth//
Chuck’ Beatin ME is 'Unheard OF' like the 'Planning-of-his-Birth'//
Ur not ill son, go get some lyrics out ur prewrittin stash//
U could have a career like eminem, but ur still trailer trash//
The flow-is-ill, glocks on the hip poppin-ur-brain//
Chuck 'Standing on and Xbox' tryin to be on top-of-his-game//
Punches infiltrate-ur-face, make u feel-me-nigga//
Kill u while ur 'Eatin-FROOT-LOOPS' so i can be a 'CEREAL KILLA' //
I see u from the "Windy City" but ur raps aint "Windy"//
Dogg ur rap couldnt even blow me, shit it can barely offend me//
Connectin ya wit my final strike to leave ya in broken segments//
If 1 line will fuck this bitch up then a verse will leave him pregnant//