you teachin me? wat u thinkin, you must be outa your mind, it must be hard to find cause your lyrics are to kind to dis anyone/

you could'nt touch my lyrics wit ten foot pole, you must be stuck in a lyrical hole your goal must be to attack wack emcee's/

my words live flesh wit o.n.e scab right throught your lyrical grab bag, i'ma make you sag down into a lower level, you become a fag and u end up gagin on a o.n.e inch dick/

i am sick of your fake shit, you couldn't take shit, your punchlines are in remission, you be fishin for sum punches,and you soon be wishin for mercy but guess wat,u aint gettin any from me/

i am to good see your shit is free cause you couldn't find sumone
to get yourself a easy win/