you to the slaughter I bring, herb, till aorta and things hurt//
from this part of his team, exposed as a lord of the rings nerd//*
ya couldn’t see my fist comin, now ya lip has been broke//
so the “blow” was unexpected,~ like a surprise shipment of coc//
If I’m seen packing heat, with the bullets to blast ya team//
I’ve killed one ya, I’d just need limited editions of magazines//**
Ya personal best, when I serve you a verb in a breath//
could turn to a mess, like epidermis from burners and teks//
externally wet, blood in turn stick ya shirt to ya chest//
and turn ya life into it’s second birth, before you learn that its death//
soften ya actions, cuz I’m too grimey and hard for you//
ya couldn’t be a rider, if bill gates cosigned on a car for you//
Defeating this lame, with a new lesson easy to gain//
I’ll reach in his brain, with bullets signatured, and teach him my name//

*dissing on that whack, frodo baggins post on poetic scriptures.
**i battled a member or former member of his crew named syck, and got a 5-0 win on him. the rest is a play on magazines, talking about magazines in a gun, using his name in it too. you get it. i don't need to shoot at him much.