Every time you rhyme, you need to spit that shit-in-a-can
The only reason why I slit my wrists is so that I could “give-you-hand”

You need to find hope like searching for stars in the “night-sky”
You “might-die”, the only way you’d win with a verse is if you “write-mine”

Look this is GP without a glove cause he will never “catch” a win
You couldn’t match-with-Jin, you got me pissed off like you scratched-my-timbs

No wonder your ghost cause your something nobody here wants-to-see
Save ya wack raps, and maybe you should try being an emcee for Halloween

You don’t ride ghosts, you couldn’t win even if you got Casper to write-your-verses (ghostwriting)
Your mics-get-nervous cause you never spit ill like you tight-with-nurses

Mike12Ikeda is what this “Tar Heel” is tripping-on
You couldn’t even beat WhitePowder cause you’d be sniffing-wrong

You’re a “pain in the ass” like my “rear’s-shot”
GhostRida is the reason why Petey Pablo’s career-drop

Since you got into the scene, you were the only one that “raised-up”
You got the rap game mad like a mom with a lazy son cause you got this game-shut

You’re the reason why the baby blue ball jerseys went-out-of-style
Your flows will always remain dry like Egypt went-out-of-Nile…..