I'll be quick to kick-ya-ass without havin' to battle-ya-behind
if I knew I'd be up against a pussy, I'da battled-a-feline
remember me after I dismember your rhymes an' snap-ya-words
cuz after I'm finished you'll be left wit halfa-verse
if gats-were-words- you'd be left holier than the Bible
I freeze rivals then dance in circles round 'em like a ballet recital
this man'll be left capped like he just put a hat-on
layin' in the street soakin' up his blood like a tampon
this bitch gunna get jumped on like a worn out matress
his delivery missed me like Fed-Ex had the wrong address
Tim Dim has no wordplay cuz I benched-his-words
his rhymes used to be hot until I drenched-his-verse