Aight

Your spits are so horrible, I gotta ask you if you are a cop that’s undercover? your rhymes so soft “I cant believe its not butter”
Step up to me and you will get stepped on, you get “no votes” like a battle being slept on.
I throw more no-look passes than Magic, You make dildos and vibrators come out of your hat, like you “Inspector Faggot”
I already beat you. Do I have to scream and shout? You got “no balls”, just flat like a “laser mouse”
I must be the ocean, because I flow so nice, Your rhymes as real as fake ice, my rhymes fry you like Chinese rice.
I been spitting flows way before adam and eve, if raps where hair, nigga you would have to weave.
People be like “Damn” when ever I spit, you must be MC Hammer, because you are in need of a hit
You may think you rhyme fast, but I rhyme faster, I will end your rap career like I did to Mase, so the only job open to you is to become a pastor
I will do you like “John Travolta” and cut your “Face-off”, im battling a dude that can’t even spell Chaos (kayoss)
Im your father, so son you should call me “Daddy”. I killed you and got you rolling in a black cadi (hearse) back to Cincinnati.