u get crushed like i did to ya girl-i-confess/
u get lifted like wheight when i curl-and-press/
so dont stress how u aint the best, u showin im #1 of the rest/
and dont feed off me like u do ya momma's brest/
cuz nobody alive could gimme a test, when i battle in text, who's next?/
rhymes is spiritual like the koran or the bible/
they sing em as hymes for church choir recytles/
take ya written verse thats so vitle, for u to do without would be change in style/
u pussy, i drain u to make my own Green Mile/
ya shittier than bile, passed through a newborn child/
crapped ya pants when my lyrics went buckwild/
u need to recognize the skills, and how u aint ill, thought u were untill.../
i tore this faggot, cuz he got ripped, each PUNCH-line will bust ya lip/
u cant try to flip these scripts, so u better get ya Bic and write this down/
my Dai Gao sound wit verbs and nouns is pound for pound the illest around.