aight check it

My lyrics Hit ya, Split ya, Make ya fuckin Knees Shake/
God dis nigga lost in "Brooklyn" like puffy, Fetchin CheeseCake/
Words make ya sound tuff, Dawg I got bullets to Test Ya/
How you gon play hard, when ya crew name is reppin Child Molestas/(illegal jrs.)
Cant get out my heat too much Pressure, Bitch gettin jumped more than Checkers/
I bet dis Noob is a fuckin wack, he packin Fake Gunz n Stuff/
Must got his sig MIXED up, cuz Rooks da ones Who get Made Fun of/
Talkin that hard slang, like you a RuffRyder from da Brooklyn Streets/
Homie, Puttin Hot Towels in ya pants is yo idea of Packin Heat/