Bitch steppin' hard to me, gettin' all pumped up and ready to die/
So Imma bout to spit at you, take a shyt on you, and jerk off on you eye/
They might as well call you nicholas cage cuz Imma bout to tear yo face off/
You couldn't be an ill MC if you had aids, a sore thoat, and a bad cough/
Imma bout to crack and hack at ya mind, like it's a fuckin' computer/
Imma bout to rape you like a catholic priest and cut off ya dick, oops, i meant ya pea shooter/
When I come to the mic, I come cravin' to kill souls like I'm fuckin' demonic//
My spit will cut away at ya heart like a plague, my shyt is straight up laconic/
if my creww is so wack than y tha fuck would ya tryout/
tha only reason u still on my roster is cuz when u c yo name unda philly'z phinest it makes u feel proud/
but u left us ta go ta lyrikal warroiors that wack ass crew/
if u guys r so ill how cum tha only membaz r yo boyfriend and u?/You got weak 'ASS'umptions, punches release each punction, your style is too 'casual' could be a 'teacher' cuz Im handling conjunctions/
I'll eat thru ya bars, chew em' up and spit em' til your bleedin and scarred/
then stomp ya 'keys' with my converse, so you can reach for the 'stars'/
im beyond dope, and theres no alarm code when I blow, you'll croak in the bomb smoke/
your birth was a mistake, your ass belongs in tha bacc of ya moms throat!/
your rhyme are crushed when I wrote some, now your faggot ass is huggin my scrotum/
bitch I can end your rap career, by simply unpluggin your modem!/
You terrible, remaining practical..like your birth, you 'occurred by chance' you 'accidental' thats factual/
You a board fanatical, 'simplified', your thougths like 'radicals,' you 'too gangsta for radio' only because your raps aren't 'actual'/
Im'a leave this cat thrashed, 'itchin' for a loss witta bad rash from 'antrax'/
your weak ass style is like chinese bitches, always seems to be 'half assed'/
somebody boo this man,/
bitch you can run over plants with'a radiator, still cant get 'roots from fans'/
try to bust some complex punches, they're fuckin nonsense/
in the end, it'll be your own skeleton, thats comin out your closet/
This is ya death, yo destrutions, ya end, this is your decease/
The next time niggas think of you they gonna be sayin' rest in peace/