Here it is...

you gotta be insane to step to a battle with a lyrical Master
and the day after tommorrow won't supress this rhytmic disaster

that I'll unleash on your azz like a pimp on a 2 bit hoe
the only spit you'll release is when yure wrapped on my knob to blow

I buss thru yo chest like aliens, acidic lyric leave you blazin'
n yur resistance to my voltage, couldn't keep my SINE WAVEs from PHASin' *

mi adjacent flo triangulates hos, foe, your position is marked
i've spit 8 LINEs and FINISHed u before your cunt azz could start

now, your only hopes for victory is to ride my dick
using my shyt to come up with something original to spit

ok, I'll treat you like all my other bitches, and you can kiss my feet
and sell your pathetic rhymes and azz for free, while pacing the hard concrete

fuk u think, im some mark, pussy ass nicca, I'll buy you some flowers
and I'll pull a Biggie Smalls on ya n sprinkle u wit golden showers

* Ohm's Law. Thought I'd get scientific on dat ass.