IM SoOo Synickle: You Aint Shit To Me, I'll Slap You With Your Mothers Cylicone Tities, MAke You See Life Un-Real-Isitically...//
My Gats Will Shot To REmold Ya Body Like Jello Kinda Like I Reformed You Physically...//
LOL Hurry da --fucc up-- b-4 i burry your-- loved ones--go to da jurry n its my --thugs son-- at da firing range wonderin where we got such big -guns from-
IM SoOo Synickle: When You See This Killa You Better "JET" Go Fly Away Birdie...//
Dont Talk About Cash You Aint Got No Green So Dont "Test-de-Verde"...//
Slugs i got like a hundred//n it'll leave yah 'puss-ass' n 'cunt-dead'(hunted)-wit bullets like pumpkins//
IM SoOo Synickle: Only time You Seen Sex Is When You Pull Down Ya Pants And Do Some Jerky...//
So Wit Ya Lame Spits Ya Better Quit, Fucc It Ill Freeze This Bird Have Goin "Cold-Turkey"....//
U" thought u's sumfin" cuz yah "forgot your nothing" butta bitchh witta "cunt-ring" n a degree at "cock-munching"//
IM SoOo Synickle: Ya Wanna Talk Heat Ill Burn Down Ya Whole Property...//
And Wit these Double-Sixrs Im Rounding Ya Block Like-Monopoly...//
ya talk while succin the en-tire mile attached ta the back of a drunken Petifile//
IM SoOo Synickle: Ya Figured Ya Wanna Follow Synickles Coat Tails So You Could Try To Be Ill....//
And Then "SEd Hey i Got A RAp Name lol Cause Killa im Only Two Percent Of Your Skill"...//
kid u sumfin pittiful when u got raps dat bad n act so critical//not one rhyme in a syllable--son--i should of cut u off at the umbillical//
IM SoOo Synickle: No Wonder This Homo Aint Got A Crew Guess He Just Aint Worthy...//
Murd-Ah His Stank Puss And Bury His Body Somewhere In Bx...// when ever dis bitch batttles he'z hopen for a 'mirical'//wit a cross in his mouth prayin god will find him 'spiritual'//
IM SoOo Synickle: Have A Bomb In One Hand And A Gat In The Other Leave You Guessin...//
Ill Have You Raped And Murdered SO Mee t Father SMith And Father Wesson...// OH SHIT
Lyrical aint even part of you vocabulary//like life to Lol in any form of local mortuary