So S-Cap., why you actin’ a Bashful? You got the flow, but it won’t last tho/
Let me tell all ya’ll rapperz, this kid enjoy sex from men, in his asshole/
Killin you like AIDS kills Magic Johnson, Three in the key doing a lay up/
Blast this pup? Battlin Capital? You better guard your nuts or wear a cup/
His rhymes is wack and this fuckn kids worst skilled then me at birth/
Havin you more scared of me then when da “Aliens Come To Earth” /
My spitts is lethal yours is just a little short of reachn elementary/
And your rhyme schemes clash, while all mines is all complimentary/
Walkn Around in RB, “ima good lyriciest” But you aint foolin no1 dude/
You as White as Casper and ya rhymes be just as see through/
And wuts up wit ya name BOI? You aint tha damn State Capital/
Planning on gettn payd for ya rhymeZ? Expect to be in DC, sleepn in front of tha church chapel/
Cause your ass couldn’t sell ya shit, if you was selln it a dime beat/
But Dawg think of it thiz way, you’ll finally be real on tha $treet/
They come’n out wit a Toy Story 3, Everyone buy it next year/
It gotz all tha same characters, but a new Doll they call State -Bite-year/
So before I go outta time, and after hear his ass cry n shout/
Battle was started and people voting/ before your “own” verse, your doping//
Cuz shit, it’s probably easy to see I beat you without my mouth open//

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