man, i know your type, what u doin is the lowest a-guy-can-do..
talkin all this shit to me, when it actually applies-to-you..
I drill-kids, with skilled hits, bitches like clam get killed-quick..
even if ya mouth had herpes ya still couldnt produce an ill-spit..

Youre just feelin raw cos of that time u got ripped-up-n-i-beat-you..
Im deliverin hot, and i aint talkin bout no pizza-or-chinese-food..
Stompin-this-lame, poppin-ya-frame, leave ya soft-in-the-brain..
im rockin-ya-game.. couldnt get ya verses on track if u hopped-on-a-train..

drop ya mic n tie the cord-on-ya-neck, this cats ignored-by-the-vets.....
ud think u was spittin with a 2 by 4, the way your shit BOARD me to death..
lmao.. lame...

u ready to battle yet?

one

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