| Originally Posted by Technique Give a dog a bone have the mad D Flown,like hurricane and mutha fuckin trees blown
 I dont like ya music, you sound shit mad man
 when it comes 2 battle, all we here is the sad man
 Think ya smart u dont spit wid heart only ya crawly accent
 it's ashame u were born man surely it was an accident
 i have dreams of slaughtering u even in my sleep
 i remember when u bitched first 2 me, i thought wot a freak,
 How could this peice of shit put our demos...
 with melodys with no flows, cant u see mad ur just a shaddow
 You get emotional with ur spit, cuz mainly i dont give a shit
 u spit wid a lisp 2 ,u couldn't be dope if u had ur wrists slit
 I remember some of ya wack lines those were wack times,
 but least i blow ya 2 bits this time, ur lines get smacked wid rhymes.
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