- Drop Dead -

..Stab Thru Your Best, As The Mag’ll Spray And Grab At Ya Vest,
Till The Rounds “Nip-Ill/Nipple” Like ‘What You Have On Ya Chest’..
..I’ll Make Contusions, When Bruisin' And Also Break Scrimmages,
Punches Hit Low Till “Ill-Lose-Shins/Illusions” Like ‘Fake Images’..
..The Pain’s Massive Herb, When I Sustain N’ Grain Passive Slurs,
Then Watch You Run And “Take, Flight” Like ‘Plane Passengers’..
..You Bitch Made… Pray And Lose, As I Know Your Stayin' Noob,
Truth Is That Ya Jus A “Cow-Word/Coward” Without ‘Sayin' Moo’..
..Kno I’ve Tore Ya Brain, Bore The Blame, When I Gore Ya Frame,
Cuz U Just Been “Bitch, Slapped” Like The ‘Callout Forum Name’..

R.I.P