Yo MC 808, u tryin to win this battle, while everyone knows your third-rate/
you talk about smokin bomb like its somethin bad, that proves that doin homework is the most fun you've had/
yo ass could barely make a rhyme, some of those rhymes were retarded, matter of fact readin them was a damn waste of time/
u need to take some classes man, fo real tho, cuz you tryin to win a battle is like a black dude gettin a tan
its useless, matter of fact i dont kno why u do this, settin yoself up to get ripped, man u really clueless/
your verse is more annoyin than a repetitive car honk, i'd rather listen to missy elliot sayin "bedonk o donk donk"/
ima finish this shit right here right quick, cuz my punches hit harder than Jet-Li kick/
remember one thing, u dont fuck with the greatest, ill leave yo ass in a ditch, do it like robert de niro sayin "BADA BING"/
im comin straight at your rhymes, as wack as they may be, i could take yo ass in a battle even if i was high off PCP/
u need to get out of this battle before you get laughed at, you couldnt sell a record if ur beat was laced by battlecat/