Youngs Born To Kill, Light Vs Heavy damn I Burn Ya Fat Mor Then A George Foremen-Grill/
Defining Ill Flows, Ima Allwayz Come Back To Hit This pussy Like Boomerang Dil-Dos/
Ill "pour in and score", put "four in your door" when my rhymes tore in to Show-gore/
u couldnt "turn tables", if u were "funkmaster flex"in a Furniture store/
This kids-a-threat? I'll dip-his-neck ,in his own scrpits-n-setz/
Dont shout-wit-bursts,Print-out-my-verse ,maybe then ud rip-my text/
ya chest left imprinted-with-heat, ur heart's skippin-a-beat/
so dope this bitch is in rehab tryna kick his addiction-to-me/
I'm written these lines to reside in ya eyes, u recyclin lines/
probably caught a CHIPPED TOOTH from BITIN those rhymes./
"Blazes the nicest"..thats what people be tellin me/
i must be sellin WEED...cuz this mothafucka kid just took L from ME/

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