If you were Jerry Rice you couldn't catch the lyrics that I send ta you/
This is like Mortal Kombat, I even got niggas screamin "Finish you!?/
i'll limit you, you have no style, you're record shows it, you're fuckin O and 2/
You are like a dead man in Rigamortis, there's absolutley no flow in you (blood flow)/
i'm showin you skill, and if you could see it from my angle/
then you'd take your busted flow and go swim in the Bermuda Triangle/
I hate you, your rhymes just get wrinkled like old age, while I ripen/
coz man, your damn style changes more than gas station prices/
you ain't that nice kid, and you even wanna be me, I just let it be known/
it's like we're new born twins and I was born first, I'm ahead of this clone/
you'll get my name etched in your bones, your not good, try again next year/
you think that your flow sounds ill? you must not hearin yo self like Vango's left ear/
this the west her, and I came tp burn you and watch your soul come out the ash/
Yo whole rap style is "garbage", so I just had to take out the trash/