It’s a fact Battling me is just 2 risky
I’ll even Jack Daniels for his Tennessee whiskey
Hitting you with punches til you’re head-hurts
You aren’t gangster, the only hood you ever seen was on the back of a sweat-shirt
You couldn’t spit sharp punches if you were a knife eater
Plus you show off nothing impressive, like skinny kids rocking wife beaters
You’re right; the flow is troublesome who taught you how 2 write?
It looks like you typed your shit in the dark without the help of lights
I take battling serious, for me this is no competition
But I’m forced 2 listen 2 you prattling on about your mundane compositions
With all do respect I think you fucking suck!
Pardon my ingenious remark
I’m just ingenuous when I talk