i'm here cumin straight out da lyrical militry,
ne fake step up and try sumthin will get left injured criticaly,
da blood oozin out da wounds ov ur crew but da murderer remainz a mystery,
ur dad'z fillin his lungz wiv crack fumez at da cemetry
mum beggin on her kneez askin da lord y,holdin a box ov ur memoriez
da mic'z warm time 2 start takin out my enemiez
my soulz torn coz these fakez hide behind a p.c's
coz their over weight and really r 500lb obessese
flabby ass muther fuckz can't stand up on their feet
eatin 47 big mac'z wen they walk in2 mac d'z
u can't match me
u ain't got no gun so u can't gat me,or even try 2 attack me
coz u'll cardiac arrest and die tragically
switch it irracticaly,u'd av 2 b outta ur brain 2 challenge me
spit rappidly'tear whole crewz down savagly
now wonder my country tried fuckin me up simply coz they could'nt manage me
realeasin myself from a mental torture
pickin back up old habbitz,cumin 2 fire a mortar
i suffer from a crime disorder
can't put my thoughtz in order its feelz i live life just 2 slaughter.

just a little freestyle 4 u man 2 judge.........
wotz up..... nucleuss spittin from da uk.tell me how it iz......