you say yer the one when you're really number 2,
I'm bustin rhymes that're the shit, and you don't know what to do/
when your with the chicks you tryin to put on the charm,
but your footsteps ecko in the street, you belong in a fat farm/
instead of packin heat, you try to bring out your logic,
my lyics are your fix, like you was a alcoholic/
straight out of spain right? take it back son,
you're watchin more kiddie porn that Michael Jackson/
I drop you in a tombstone, and land you in a hurst/
in the pyramids in Egypt, my rhymes are the locusts in your curse/
your mind is stolen, like Vice City car theft,
you're just like Snagglepus shoutin EXIT STAGE LEFT!/

your turn

__________________
Life isn't a bitch...
she's just sick of being personified -Sage Francis