my rhymes are like gettin kisses from hot chicks i instanly faunt it/
are you dissing me? honest im a glistening prohpet whose viscious and toxic/
while ur just a lil kid whose wishing to talk sick/
i could script it and not spit it and you misfits would want it/
my sick wits are caustic so im christening topics leave you/
miss your optics give this a thought kid my swiftness is constant/
this drifter is gods gift with the sickness of content/
if im taken out i'll make sure u nit wits are hunted an crypted and haunted/
while im nipping up bong hits i'll finish when chong quits/
so i guess ur up in smoke left with slit wrists un conscience