im droppin bombs you droppin smelly ass terds//
im spittin golden phrases while you spit dull and played ass words//
its death parade my rhymes are like a grenade and im da one holdin you still for the ride//
my method isnt to drop lines that evade but take you down even if i have to commit suicide//
its a mad mans verse vs a weak kids nursey rhyme mates//
its a sad plan and worse then that tweaked shit that you spit against aitz//
im spit flames so quit mayne i could you anyday bitch you ain no competion//
your skillz out ov this world because they were rejected by the planet//
im beatin and defeatin you just efecting poetic rhymes on some shit like hamlet//
you decomposed by my rap yo shit is worse then wack but i suppose its good you on ain on yo own track//

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Child Of Chaos