Aight yo im bout to lyrically murder his prewrittins//1
Im bout to get verbally complexed for his bittins//2
He mad cuz I got new era caps and he aint roccin fittins//(fitted hats)3
His rhyme go off subject and be driftin,so I take over the throan//4
Ima tag up on his rhymes like gothika”not alone”//5
My rhymes are shiny and chrome,his is nuttin but weak rottin and old//6
He think he great but he aint got one rap or album sold//7
He rap like a femcee a.k.a a girl//8
He more twisted than twizzler or a jerry curl//9
He get clocked out like a co worker,call me the master mind murker//10
The soul lurker,I only speek on weak emcees and that’s murder//11
I shred bk like a chesses grader, call me the weak emcee slayer//12
Now I got bk unlisted,he gonna post somthin that was prescripted//13
His rhymes need more than elevation they need prescription//14
I would take this battle if I came weak and my vocab was unwritten//15
He back to the future cuz his time was splittin like a split end//16