Huh to late my label mate left me with a roller skate/
I ride on bitches face, they trying to get up, trying to escape//

I'm can't wait till Christmas so I can get some new blades/
So I can stroll over yall niggihz faces, with pointing edges and sharp like spades/
Ride all over ya lyriks and battles untill they fade/

A roller skate, roller blade make no difference/
Cause either way you gettin stumped out wit 4 wheels, and aftermath is ya body look- so suspicious/

They cant identify you from the wheel and roller marks that I left on ya carcus/
You should have played ya hand better, nah you lookin dumb instead of smart cuz/

Next weapon - lets see, lets get creative, a tray of ice! DO IT!