ok, that verse was real cute, but i aint feel a word you spit//
if i stuck ya head up my crack, you still wouldnt touch my shit//
wasnt this battle 10-15? dumb nigga, cant catch a hint//
PUSSY NIGGA, check between ya legs just to make sure you still got a dick//
i aint tryna feed off ya rhymes, cause if i did i might get sick//
i see you got a losing record, similar to that of a new york knick//
i hate a bitch, 512 the typa nigga that think he got skillz//
but me, im the typa dude that keep the crowd on they feet like vince carter wind-mills//
nigga chill, i got no choice but to knock you out wit lyrical blows//
i switch from a hot temper to lyrics so cold they leave you froze//
but i hit hard like debo, quick to disfigure a nigga, break ya nose and make ya head touch ya toes//
he like,"OH NO! kuntryboi leave niggaz scary"//
came in wit a clean shirt, but left mo bloody than mary//