Let's get it on kid, heres 18 for ya ........

Decree granted…time to commence termination of your humble madness//
Your crew’s a weak pro-team…cause all your members skipped breakfast//*
You’re just wasting your time…no match for me? Oh that’s a bummer//
Over twenty wins…is he on fire? No, his heater was on during summer//
You can battle stone-age monkeys and your punches still won’t be radical//
Cause your rebuttals are weaker than janitors trying to guard State Capitol//
I’m restless…I leave you in stone-dead state so that you can’t rock on//
Your feeble career won’t “Blast Off” even if you worked in Launch.com//
Even if it did, there leaves a question that make Claustrophobics run home//
Did the kid reach the zenith? Nope, the kid just finished his last snow cone//
This kid ain’t taking me seriously; he thinks it’s a fuck-a-thon with niggas//
I go to your “Bill of Rights”& replace it with Mountain Dew bumper sticker//
Kid I already got you figured…your dynastic talents are clearly misused//
I make your writing scribbled; you won’t use “Writer’s Block” as excuse//
Bitch don’t try and look around cause Plutonium has finally won the race//
Too bad this kid was never close…bitch winning is like a wild goose chase//
Kid’s still missing, I’m too fast for the kid, so he has to rely on defenses//
This wack bitch can’t “Keep in touch” even if he wore “Contact” lenses//

*Pro-team=Protein