(13th Disciple casts out Pestilence).....

makin' your rhymes ghost stunnin ya wit my lyrical plasma pack
verbal lasers surroundin' your flows wacko jacko wants his
lyrics back/what kinda crap is that/brutalizin' ya verbally have
you starrin' in an episode of 'when lyrical animals attack'

like a lottery ya was simultaneously hand picked/categorizin'
ya in two different subjects one a faggot two just anotha punk bitch


this is an interview with a spiratical irrational vampire/but you
the one suckin' necks labelin' you a dick ryder

which isn't allowed on the polls/jockin' my flows/stealin' mo'
rhymes than a florida seminole/tryin' to smoke on a lyrical
bowl/switched it when your back was turned but still
enjoyin' that asshole

anotha battle finished without the chance of a start/didn't see
it commin' i crept up silently like a deadly fart/ripped ya apart/
took out your heart/grand slammin your rhymes like this
was wrigley field park...............freestyle baby.....u got 15 minutes

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Blessed wit Skillz