verse,

you 9 and 1, im 0 and 2,
ive lost to a couple but not one by you,
its true even under your name you a light wieght and yet,
you a street poet but spit over the internet,
now you can flo with out trying to catch your breath,
but if i put you lungs in your hand would you catch a breath,
you say you got a hot battle with shootaboy
but i rode on his crew and and he isnt as hot as you think boy,
so if that battle hot then this is blazin yo,
you a grape with a dreid flow, so better yet you a rasin hoe,(dried grapes are rasins)
im ill with it, almost dislexic,
but if i ate of your words, id be anerexic,
you scared to tell where you from cuz other brothas might you it against you,
none of you lines be on piont like the tip of an unsharpened pencil,
your shit stinks,flow broken up like nsync,
i think, my flow is cold enough to make you tiny dick shrink,
i bet no gurl would ever hit that
cuz your hair line is like fat joe all it does is lean bak,
my woms are bout to stak up like pringles,
and now your record nout to look worst then the bengals,


this myy verse yall