holla at my first battle. its garbage but check it out..

this bitch is done im takin him to the gallows to get hung//
your rhymes are hopeless like a gangbang witout the tung//
if u thought u were winnin this battle u must be mistaken//
shoot, u bite likes from ruben studdard and clay aiken//
my rhymes and flow are famous, history in the makin//
every bar i write ur mom is most definelty breath taken//
im "con~testin" you, just like ur mom "mou~lestin" you//
my calender merkinings.. April, May, Gods Son, your due//
i flip you over like a pankcake bein cooked really easy//
ima be 1-0 after this battle ni**a u betta believe me//
Gods Son? after this battle jesus gunna be whoopin ur ass//
he's sendin u into hell after this, he so sorry he givin u a free bypass//
u better hope u got Francis Of Asscise or Moses on ur back//
cuz this battle is won by me bitch, hit the road jack// haha

(agaisnt Gods Son)