COME CHECK ME IN A CYPHER AND GET BITCH SLAPPED WITH AN OPEN MIC THAT'S HOW BATTLES GET CLOSED, IF YOU CHECK MY PROFILE YOU'LL UNDERSTAND WHAT I MEAN BY THOSE AND IF IT'S STILL ABOVE YOUR HEAD THAN I GUESS IT' SUPPOSED, TO BE, AND I STILL DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT THEY COULD WANT FROM LITTLE OLD ME, YOU SEE IT WAS ONE MC AND AFTER ONE MC, AND WHEN I SPIT THEY ALL GET BURNED IN THE 3RD DEGREE. I CAN'T SAY NO NAMES CAUSE I'M NOT A SNITCH, BUT IF ALL OF THEM DIED IT'S BECAUSE MY MIND COMES LOADED WITH A SIXTEEN CLIP, AND ONE IN THE MOUTH, TO SPIT IN THE AIR AND MAKE ALL YA BUMBACLOT RUN A DIFFERENT ROUTE. THEY DENY TO SUBMIT REPLIES SO I RESET THEIR FORM, MY FREESTYLES MAKE CATS MAD MAKE THEM WANT TO GO HOME AND WRITE A SONG, I TYPE FOR FUN AND A LOT OF RAPS ON HERE ARE MADE FOR SOMEBODY TRYING TO GET ON, FOR REALS, I TYPE TO BUILD MY SLILLS, MANY ARE ON HERE TRYING TO GET DEALS, I PROBABLY POPPED THESE TWO VERSES AFTER I POPPED TWO PILLS. BUT NAH CAUSE I DON'T DRUGS NO MORE, USED TO BE THUG HARDCORE NOW I CAN TYPE A RHYME TO HAVE A BUZZ FOR SURE.