In battles, I dismember wack emcees like Jack the Ripper/
I spit multi's just to see which bar will smack you quicker/
I got hidden value . . . like a diamond in the rough/
You couldn't touch me if I threw myself at you like a slut/
I leave emcees feeling like they're in the twilight zone/
Cause I was raised as a child to never fear "The Unknown"/
The bars I spit are cold, like December the 5th/
I'll engrave my rhymes in your brain so you remember my spit/
Unknown? Yeh right. I know you like the palm of my hand/
You think you're hot like FLorida weather,
with the palms in the sand/
but you're more like desert tempertures at night,
alarming fall/
When punchlines swing like "swords",
you're better hide in your car with "Armor-All/
Your mouth goes dry everytime your tastin my lines/
It's like you're throwin away my watch,
the way you're wastin my time/
The only way you'd get me is bombing me from the back,/
even then I'd take your power like the "Disarmament of Iraq"////



. . . whew . . .

. . . aight you up Unknown . . .

. . . uppin . . .