Ya Rhymes' are shit movin' up in the game You runnin' back like Emmit Smith.../
You get bombed' back quick Leave A hole in your stomach like compact discs...
The True Fact Is I'll leave you covered in "shit" like a faggets mat-ress....../
Leave You flamess like broken mat-ches Rhymes dont fraise me dawg you need more prac-tice..../
Flow so intell-igent You couldnt get A 6 figure job if you was bill on "the apprentice"../
Spit godly flow but rap for the "hell"-of-it You can't get passed me like wired fences../
Rhymes'll knock you so high You could stick your tongue out at left-eye..../
I Spit drive-by's Ya rhymes is unsteady as if I put a bullet in your left-thigh..../
No need for you to check-in like a horny boy "you'll get beat in a second...../
Lines'll leave you with a "red neck" Log off quick 'cause a win is what i reckon'.../

usin different style mayne