Like a fat dude in size XS you with a mic's a misfit
Oh my lord, you rhyme so shit i felt a bit of piss drip*
You're poor, wack, abysmal, in other words you're dead lame
You talk about me suckin when this nigga's name's "head"games
You cannot be seriously coming at me with that flow
Like Peter Pan cross gigolo, you're whored and never grow
You ain't tight, you flow ain't no more than a mosquito bite
Rhyming pointlessly, you're slept on like the recent Tyson fight
And you're punches be like Creep cos their existence make no sense**
Past tense slaughtered like a pidgeon on a live fence***

*metaphorically pissed myself laughin at his verse
**every knows about Macreep so thats self explanatory
***live fences as in electrically charged fences