This nigga claim that he can flow, but he bought his rap from a cat for ten blows.
You must have a chemical imbalance or somethin', only Viagra keeps the blood pumpin'.
My rhymes will make you terminally ill, no one cares if you're dead but I'll secure the kill.
To be real in this game you gotta have heart, not be some dumb nigga wit' a brain fart.
My words cut through you like a machette, you think you're dope but you were born not ready.
You call yourself KillaCam, but the only thing you're killin' is your brain cells when you be sniffin' SPAM.
You say you're fly and that you're the shit, but dawg, your game is over like Lil' Flip.