I pull-and-hit im a crazy-sniper, Ya rhymes are full-of-shit like a babies-diaper/
So if ya want beef ya know where tha hard-mans-at, Openin up ya chest like a heart-transplant/
Its more than a flame-stack-against ya worst-rhyme, Put the 45 to ya chest like when jordan came-back-for-the-first-time/
Oh no tha flows-so-sick, Ya bitch bouncin up and down on my dick like its a pogo-stick/
somebody lyed when they said you was hype-wit-text, boy you couldn't "crack a shell" if you was in a "fight-wit-eggs"/
I’m the one teachin’ you son, no need for you to test me, cuz when I step to the plate n’ swing yur bones “crunch” like “nestle”/
I’m the one that’s “Rusty” but you couldn’t “dust me” if I were “crops”, my brain’s like a “rock-slide”, cuz I could “crush” you with “writers block”/
I 'flow with the best', how come you think i 'know nuthin less', your lyrics "come from you heart" cuz Lucky blasted a "hole in y achest"/

__________________
i aint no 'sweet studd', im a 'street thug'/
that's quick ta beat a nigga like a 'cheap rug', until he 'leave blood'/ - Big L

I'm goin' 'all out', i tear the 'wall out', i'll knock you 'all out'/
you couldn't grip somethin' heavy unless you pulled my 'balls out'/ - Lucky

people tell me im 'mad-nice', but i take it in strife/
cuz while you had a bad day, I had a 'bad-life'/ - Lucky