IE, your mouth cant write a hook, your mouth cant write a punch/
your mouth couldnt rap up a sandwhich if it wanted some lunch/
your weak jabs arent gonna help you get past this bout/
hell your mom told me even she could knock you out/
he just another bad rapper that no label will account/
he just another cheap-ass, like ho's on discount/
your name's like fuckin mexican, mowin lawns is all you could afford/
you quit karate coz your punches couldnt break the wooden board/
i'll murder IE prewritten shit, his fake scripts sunken/
nothing he 'drops is Spur of the moment unless he traded Tim Duncan/
still your thinkin you can beat me... cmon, now please/
im like a fuckin virus... atchoo, sneeze/
your rhyme's are a glass cup, dawg, empty and any idiot can see through/
your dick can't impress women, they always ask "Is that only a preview?/
if you're interested in livin', you better plan your next retreat/
cause you'd get murdered by a bitch from Sesame Street/
son, the pain I'm inflicting is sharper than an adulterer's scorned wife/
like inferno, my rhymes are eternal, so they'll burn you in your afterlife /
you honestly thought you'd beat me? You believed you had a spark?/
but what's that written on your tombstone? The final question mark/

__________________

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No ones gonna stop me