What the fuck was that? ...Where were the personals
Unless I was Muslim, Jew or Greek...Then that wud be Personal
Your style is elementary...at best you could grind kids
How the fuck ya gonna diss me...
..By ripping on the images in my sign pic?
Keep actin' hard on RV...Cuz your bigged in the status
Which ya Gurl saw I was...
..Thats why your flop-dick was the pratice.
It's quite known your a hoe...so keep out the daylight
Strap you with stilletoes'n'have you working strips latenight
For Shiest hunts and whores, Call him the Taliban Predator
I'm Taking this author out quicker...Then underpaid Editors.
Jabs and stabs leave puss-holes killed...Know the deal Illa
You could have done aswell...
..But your name shows your one-space from a Real Killa
Look here, Dude I'll never lose to you...so don't try to Play God
Since you lost your battle...To the Drunken Wordz of an AhGod
With quick deliveries that embrace...Sword movements Wielding
And a roundhouse to your face...Truer than Namekian Buildings
You droppin' pre-ejaculated verses...I'm still knocking you off
To bad that style doesn't work..
...Whenever Illa's break his chicks off
If lyrics were hammers...you'd be back in a stretcher
So I'll sensitively write to this homo, obsessing Nick Fletcher...
So you wanna fuck with me?...Dawg I'll Fuck you out
Wit Combos that'll Hook fishes...and Knock Your Trout
Look K, actin' big-headed...so I'll heckle your pride
I'll switch this fag n' alter-egos...
..So don't look surprised when all your Jeckel's are Hydes.
This bi-fag runs more fuckin pipe...then ulitity systems
Bomb you wit tight crosses...
...I'll have Muslims beggin' for Christening...
I

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