Yeah, yeah, fa-sho
Ughh.. ughh... ugghhh...

Yo “murderous mic”, ima make you “learn 2 dislike” rap
cuz it aint getting you no-where like bikes on a “bike rack”
dude just save your breath, like your underwater and “cant swim”
cuz this is like fightin against the IRS, you “cant win”
you must have slept in, and only spit hott without “toothpaste”
so ima step all over you and then replace u, like a worn out “shoelace”
im conducting a lyrical beatdown with no warrant like the “cops do”
I should pop-u, cuz u are about as Murderous on da Mic as “Ja Rule”
You got your flows from hell-boy, so you must be the “devil’s son”
I continue to move up but you still stuck on “level one”(check pet rapper)
Forever son, even if you threw in the towel you just kant “stop-it”
I should electrocute you so your lyrics could finally be “shocking”
And you still couldn’t top-me, like a cheese pizza with no “toppings”
(last thought!!!)
You’ve “been wack” so when you give out your demo it gets “sent back”
With a note attatched reading: this shit is dryer than “lent traps”


And that’s all I wrote( peace)