Ok, w/e

Watch me scar your personality and leave you with split decisions,
I'm a 'quack' of a doctor because I gave you expired prescriptions/
I depict depictions of your defeat as if I was playin telephone wit ya life,*
by the time the news gets back to ya ass, you'll have a gay midget as a wife/
articulate a flow that arouses chaotic mass speculation,
make an example out of your ass, this is my RB declaration/
pay attention as I teach you a style that shatters your verse into fragments,
it'll turn you and all your lil homies to a bunch of *Lethal Faggots*/**
smack your syntax back to middle school cuz you lack composition,
you the only 17 yr old I know, losin to kids in spellin competitions/***
this fool can't even count his KO's, five listed an 3 acknowledged,****
I know where you'll graduate from in four years, it's called "Kiddie College"/
Spittin bars too ill to measure, with infinite letters that's makin you qualm, (feel uneasy)
Trip Marxx just got baptized cuz all my verses resemble psalms/

*telephone is that game where you tell someone somethin then they tell some one, an so forth, then the statement becomes rearranged
**his crew is Lethal Tactics
***he's 17
****look at his win/loss record in his sig, then look at the people he beat