Its a shame that this mista wants to battle me quick, like he is dope
But he is just an authentic joke
So grab the ropes give up unless you wanna get fucked-up
your text record's 9-2 but your luck has run-up
You need to stop think before you get punked bitch
I checked your little drops they more like drops of stank shit
Of fake shit from a fake bitch who claims big
You ain't no man you wanna die i'll go and start aim-in
But fuck the guns all i need is words no curse words
I won't use it in this line and still make it all hurt
I'll make your mamma go rethink your birth from her
And make you realize that dancin man is way much worse
I'm bout to win this battle ain't no sense in you postin
I turned this mista to a sista why you even keep goin?
I'll put the nail in the cuffin with ryhmes sharp as nails
Your verses' weak and frail like broken plastic rails
You're broken its done this battle is gone and won
While you sittin and writtin still stuck thinkin on bar one
Its bar none you'll win the best improved
But you can't claim cause infact you will just lose