Alright kid, lets be honest, you ain't nothin' to shelf,
Cause you ain't a pro, zack... That’s just what you take to keep from cuttin' yaself,
We’ve done open mic’s and homie you watched as my doors widden,
Now I roll with the big dog’s.. You just roll on the floor crying,
You’re Algebra cause we don’t understand you? Well hoss,
Even I passed it… Just never thought that I would pass it a loss,
Say you’re looking for a good name for you to post on your sound click,
But every name you choose is gay.. So I guess that you’ve found it,
I posted myself drunk… Got responds like “This kid is on acid!”
And yours got a simple “Keep your shirt on! That shit ain’t attractive!”
Bitch, this is madness… You ride Q’s nuts like the bench that he lurks,
Shit… I wouldn’t doubt it if he’s mentioned in your verse,
The more we figure you out the deeper you get? That’s somethin' supreme,
But true, cause the more I realize you're wack, the farther above you i seem..

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