u gotta thing wit death,why did u let me go first?
u'll end up in da back of a corolla,cuz i neva really liked a herst//
i'll spit ur verse ta make it worse,i'll snatch ur perse//
now the world know u a fag.........doesn't it hurt?//
i'm sick wit verbs,imagine if i didn't text my words//
it would be deadly ta u when i voice my cords//
dis battle will leave u in a psyco ward//
after i kill u here,in da cypher section don't talk shit no more//
ur raps they bore,fuck sleep its more like a coma//
don't cha, luv da way i structure my rap fo ya//
oh snap! how bout i give u a lesson in dat//
so da next time u battle u won't get beat so bad//
it's really sad, how ur write'n could be so bad//
u must be slippin,ur 2 bar cypher is better than ur written//
politican,that mean't thinkin on what u could be spittin//
u use'n 2 hands ta shoot a twenty two//
50cal is a desert eagle,a hand gun way to big for u//
i'm times 2,nicca i'll out class u,betta work faster cuz ur way past due//
i'm ol school,i'm da best birthed a month somtime in 82//
when i'm thru, lets see how many rap battles fans remember u//