ya so scared ur wetter than a PRETEENS wet DREAM//
u cant redeem ur matches even if lyricism was flowin in ur bloodSTREAM//

ya verbal skills kick worse than a nine month old BABY//
statistics show your chances of survival are less than MAYBE//

tell me how it feels as my lyrical slugs fill your chest with HOLES//
i light ya up like, hotter than livin in six HELLHOLES//

ya spittin reminds me of chinese take out, sickening and SLOW//
a .5 on the richter scale could be enough to interrupt your FLOW//

you call me a feminite while you walk around in tight leather//
i know guys excite ya, but you think your pants could get any wetter//

__________________
Guess who's Back
Still smellin crack in my clothes
Dont make me relapse on you hoes