I’m Runnin Through Emcee’s Like Laxatives/
Yull Only Win This Battle If I Write One For You And Send You Home To Practice It/
Copyin My Battle Word For Word Will Be The Only Way Your Matchin This/
Apparently, Loosin Is Hereditary So Your Complaining Will Be Drastic/
Slicin Through Your Genes So When Wearing This Misery Yull Have A Relaxed-Fit/
My Rhymes Blanket The Screen While He Leaves Nuthin But Empty Patches/
The Only Way This Cat Would Blaze Tha Mike Is If He Had A Pack Of Matches/
The Microphone I’ll Snatch It, Pussy, Smackin You So Hard Yull Bear A Vertical Smile/
Disappearance Of Your Appearance After Killin Your Lyrics Cause I Murdered Your Style/
Like A Limbless Mother On Christmas This Faggot Can’t Rap/
Tyrin To Inhabit This Habitat But Unfortunately You Can’t Adapt/
Mouthin-Off Child Like Punch-Lines So You Just Get Slapped/
You Got Into This League By Slippin In The Door To Get Passed The Draft/
Blaze The Mike? Come On,Your Lyrics Babble Non-Stop Like A Crazed Wife/
You Have No Elevation In Your Lyrics Left, Its Obvious You Weren’t Raised Right/
“Turn Out The Lights, Lets Watch The Microphone Ignite”/
This Cat Needs Some Advice And To Place His Paper In A Vice To Rhyme Tight/
You Had The Most Competition In Your Shit-List When You Typed It/
The End Of This Battle Scene Will Be Out-Lined In Tape And Yull Try to Rewind It/
But Im Sorry, Whats Done Is Done And Your Done, No Dinner Utensils to Prove It/
Just Add Another One to Your Shit-list And Move It/