whatever, my crew has nothin' to do wit this battle so you shut the fuck up and suck dick....

ya open battle call was answered by an mc more deadly than cancer.//
ya empty flow isn't impressin', just depressing like knowin' your about ta be sentenced.//
dirty-shanks, tha head bitch, in the resivoir clic, that whole crew pussy like clit.//
so I'm-a rub 'em like I was an index, finger with a diamond ring ta leave their inner ranks disfigured.// *1
battlin' me is like bein' in tha mix, minglin' with a loaded gun that's got a self pullin' trigger.//
you just try'n ta mimic my figure and become my shaddow, you want to be me, but to achieve that you have to be a good rapper.//
and you got more slack lines than a downed hydro tower, I'm a higher power.//
when I rhyme.. you cowar.. leave you puckered up to kiss my ass like my shit was sour.// *2
skip the crap, spit your best and you still commin' in last like a civic runnin' formula 1.//
I form bars that'll stun MC's like an armed robbery with a gun.//
I do this for fun, it's a fuckin' hobby, you try'n-ta make a living from it no wonder you're starving.//
wasting away like the fame of tanya-harding, or the game of sean connery as james bond, like them, ya day's gone.//
ya sparks faded away and the light's been drowned out by the bri-lli-ance of my eternal flame.//
I'm res-ill-ient an' you to lazy to make it or even have anyone feel-ya-shit.//
the only way you real-in-a-spit is when you suck ya boyfriend off and let the cum drip-past-ya-lips.//
quit rap bitch ya every verse is worthless, your brains so hollow there's no point in searchin'.//
you'll never find an idea up in that wack-cave.//
you lack anything that could be considered having game.//
mane(man) you nuthin' but a rap wannabe l'il priss dick lips fag.//



1= a diamond ring on a finger will cut up the inside of a pussy...
2= sour things make you pucker your lips...

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