Lil' somethin' of battle spits........holla back.....Cuz I can do nethin' open mic, battle, song, even poetry a lil lol......Wun

I'm Done-With-This-Ametuer cuz with his raps he don't know Where-To-Start/
I've ripped Your-Limbs-Apart so how can you say you stay True-To-The-Heart?/

Ya lack punches in ya drops, like lite Rocks-Causin-No-Pain/
You could take ya raps and stand on em, an still wouldnt be on the Top-Of-Your-Game/

You answered the callout, but you seem to only know-one-bar/
Like juveniles under house arrest, you can only go-so-far/

I get in ya mind chump, yeah I’m forceful-up-in-this /
Cuz I leave pussy's feelin' raped like chicks at abortion-clinics /

I’m on Mark with my spits, so think twice before you reprimanded/
You juss a pussy and it's that time of the month, that's why I caught you red-handed/

I protest ya rhymes-are-drab-and-flat, so stick-to-Nickelodeon cuz cuz you aint'-all-that // (All that= show on Nick.)
Matter-of-fact I'm detractin'-ya-lower-back, leavin' you wit less skin than a-circumcised-sack //

If you insist this battle will go on, but I'll havta put clips to ya brain like chicks at beauty salons //
My duty is on, and I'm here to take the belt, touch ya wit punches to make sure I'm heart-felt //

You think ya run the site…Would you please give Eve back-her-style? //
You could walk 5280 feet in Gucci shoes and still couldn't pack-a-mile-in-style // haha