I throw more Spiked Punches then the High School Prom
And the way my Mic explodes, yur figure my Words contain Bombs

Call me an Arkitech, so fuck with my structure yu’ll get Broken
No Provokin, cuz like Straight-Faced Clowns, I’m not Jokin

Like clovers with no leafs, yur bad luck…and like Stingy Hoes yu just Suck
And even if yu were 2 of 50 Cent yu wouldn’t be worth a Buck

Your vocab is consistent to that of my 4 Year Old Brother
I know Faggot’s Love Blankets…that’s why He stays Under-Cover!!!

So I take away yur glory…like the Credits, I end yur Story
And the way yu “THINK” yur iLL…hate to break it, its just Hallucinatory

Uppin For Your Verse