man trill can't you come up with your own shit/
the stuff you do make, you repeat and then you think you're slick/
but seriously man you sound like a broken record broken record/
a godd damn vinyl that everyones already herd/
you probably screrd now and lyin under you sheets/
goin back to what you do best, countin those damn sheep/
now this spit is on you but i don't know if you can hear it/
if i ever see you you'll be losin your spirit/
cause you be lyin in the ground under the dirt 5 or 6 feet/i don't know about you man but that shit is pretty deep/
you'll weep at the sight of my gigantic fists/
then you're little wee-wee will go pee-pee /
shit so tiny probably come out in a mist/
but i'll stop this shit right here man, i'll give you a little break/
you probably sittin there in you computer chair cryin your eyes out for fuck sake!