It's teachers against students, therefore I have to pass the lessons/
Unfulfilled love results a whore interviewed, on taxicab confessions/
In cardboard boxes is where ya sleep, all your heat impared this year/
You spittin about the stupid, unimportant topics , & I'm rarely here/
What does that mean, you got less creativity than bags of bricks/
Since ya horny on wax, go finger yourself wit razor candlesticks/
All this time rhymin, you boastin like you appear, holding a record/
Turn out so sorry, none care for cyphers, or ya poetic message/
No remorse is due as swords & screws/ Rip ya hardest scripts, it's over/
Place that shit back where it belongs, inside the garbage disposal/