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IP:
Yo dog you couldent hit me wit a *good* punch line if you had a million rubber bands,
cause your rhymes are *bad* like Michael Jacksons lovers hands,
and their *sadder* than when they found out his nose was ina can,
so sit back relax and *try* and refrain,
as my lyricks hit your back as you *bribe* to get out of the way,
and you *dive* to get out of the this rain,
but when it rains it *pours* and thiers no escape,
when you try to settle the *score* you find out its too late,
try to open a new *door* then you get traped by another gate,
you couldent find *your* way out of this had a compass on your waist,
you coundent spit a tight rhyme if you *were* to cut and paist.
__________________
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