my claim to the throne is genuine youre my wack carbon copy/
youre rhymes have got to be sloppy you need to cops to stop rocky/
call me the rhyme slayer i open your dome with chrome like closed catacombs/
your posts are jokes i tear you like a virgins labia with shots to your dome/
find me on blocks posted up like your wack verses on this site/
i slice when i type you prewrite and im like knives thrusted at the speed of light/ youre never ready gats at my side since my conception/
i greet you with teks i relax your dome and smite you in milliseconds/
your childish agression is pitiful and your lyrics are second grade/
my rhymes are minute made and hazardous to your health when they are sprayed/
ill always be steps ahead of your flow until youre surrounded by a chalk outline/
youre outrhymed when i design my punchlines like celestial signs/
i demand your resignation you wannabe rap flunkie/
i send you packing like suicide bombers, postal workers and heroine junkies/