Fuck this amateur.. ya lil more than a fake fortune teller
There`s no mystery
Cos ya premonition of winnin` is no good fella
So stay listenin` to admonitions an admit I`m sellin ya out
You don`t belong
But I`m indigenous to rap.. like Native.. with twice the clout
Have ya slapped about.. an labelled RB`s punch bag
Kid looks flushed
Verse is rushed cos he`s already bloodied like cunt rags
Ya goin` nowhere.. an ya doin it fast.. wackness akin
“Fuck You”
I don`t need a comeback.. I jus` wipe it from ya mom`s chin
Damn at that line bein` enuff to floor ya weak frame
Seek help
Cos seekin the win is dumb.. you aint even ill` as my name
Seem`s this fag`s confused.. yo`.. it aint R&B.com
Idea`s don`t float
You couldn`t hold a note.. let alone drop a bomb.

__________________