my fault - didn't see this shit till right now, let's go little bitch . . .

you're just a defendant, i'm the judge about to render your sentence, //
it's XECUTION by a wordsmith, so remain silent as I inject anesthetic//
i got lyricism in my bloodline, verbally i'm in my own pedigree//
the only ism in your blood is that jizzim you swallowed to get your weed//
my metaphors are too complex for juvenile delinquents//
either i recruit you or ridicule you, i'm the lyricist your weak ass need to link wit'//
you a heavy weight? honestly you need to elevate//
i wouldn't even use your demonstration tape as a paper weight//
i'm leapin' your weak shit like sand buggees to sand dunes//
I'm ridiculin' you so bad after this you're gonna have to retreat to Cancun//
when i spit it's like every word is laced with cyanide//
leavin' piles of lyri-miss' behind, so just try 'n' survive?//
son, (pause) your ryhmes are PLAYed like KID's fade//
so before you spit your shit graduate a couple grades//
better yet, have your mom fill out this permission slip//
and asked her for a few bucks so you can afford admission bitch//
cause you're in the presence of ecclectic over-achiever//
and any response you spit'll be pathetic, you best take a breather//
i've just ended your rap dream, do you wanna live with mom the rest of your life?//
no?, then go finish your homework and get off this web site//

20 . . . spit . . .