Whoa, you spoke AhGodz name, like it'll get you in the mag easy
But this a cypher, not another way for groupies to try and speak to me
'Coz I hurt your feelings, Mystique...This is what i do to nerds
I'll rip your arms off just so you could lose your nerves
I'll spit a verse, but If you want punches by met-a-4's
Go talk to Untold, and have him put your head on the floor
Bitch Im out for blood, no friends is right
Coz if you ever had friends...you probably wouldn't live on this website
I'll put your mom by your bedside, and that weak verse on your stone
step on your toes and uppercut while you spit . . .
. . . so Kemp could see how much you'r style has grown
Your open mics are disconnected, no inputs or outs...
urmoms shredded your whole lifes' work . . .
. . . But she was just fucking around
you ducking the sound, I drop bars till the towers get jelouse
Your Flow needs intell to understand what Comp-Lex is
I hit hard on you bitches, your attemps cheasy like cottage
Pull your brains out your mouths. . .
. . . Just to help you spit knowledge
Your state of garbage should have been abolished before you were born
Your mom shouldn't have shitted you out. . .
. . . coz she still aint pick out all the corn (corny
w/e you get it)