Ayo fear me son coz i stay cold on da grind
n da truth is ya sigs bout as old as ya rhymes
I write bold in da Lines n u bout ta get washed up
coz your rhymes got less meat den fucking off-cuts
n i'll put my saliva fluids on ya face coz its lunch-time
n smacking ya note-book only way you'll hit it wit punch-lines
I dont play by da rules as i'll put u inta over-melt
He never won a championsip so how could i ever hit below da belt (ko!!!bitch)