Wot tha fuk iz dis shit G, i can't believe your spittin this shit at me//
with these wack ass rhymes, your no emcee//
i'll chew you up an bury you deeply, i'm flowin consistantly//
popin flows and punches that would defeat Jay Z//
i could spit some wack shit an' still blow you out like a bitch//
This aint a rap battle nigga you already chokin' bein' silent with your mouth open//
Your fall to tha bottom is drasticly slopein' while yo' bitch is here quietly touchin an gropein'//
Wot type of fukkin weed is that your smokin?//
It ain't tha type that keeps tha vocal cordz croakin''//
i think itz time you took a seat, coz my flowin' rhymes will aim defeat//
you keep spittin' dis shit, like your bitch is spittin on dik, lickin dis prick, i'm flickin' her clit//
an' i be sayin "quikety spit be bangin your bitch, i'm runnin this shit, get back from this"//
Just take a deep breath an sit yo ass down, i've got tha mic i'm shoutin across town//
makin sure everyone hears my voice, you'd like to block yer ears but u have no choice//
this is ultimate presure upon tha brain, its enough to make you go insane//
your membrain just slid away, like Kurt Cobain's on his very last day//

Aight Pz y'all

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