its pretty short just i wanna do more open mics...some stuff has come in battles that ive read worded n shiiiiiit

I show my shaven head, so keep ya throwback hats,
only type of cap I like to bust-is ya skullcaps.
My rhymes are going to court-the way they rape ya,
Beat me down-I clip back, that’s why they call me tha stapler.
So hot its like ive been torched-in-flames, enough force-in-my-name,
Before me rap wasn’t really born, undeveloped, so ive come to abort-the-game.
So hot pyro-aint-even-a-factor, crush you like pyramids on the sand of cairo-when-kass-crack ya,
Fake lyricists get ripped by Ka$$ coz their biros-an-actor, give ya back a break like ima chiropractor.
They also call me a dickhead psychologist, like I put a dick in ya head to fuck with ya mind,
They call me the horny gynaecologist, the way I make pussies eat my 9(incher/or as in pussy emcee with my 9mm).
Like an earthquake near Atlanta arena, I have the ability to rock microphones,
Im not ya dogg muthafucker, but I chase the pussy and I like to bone.
I go around rippin out skeletons, cause I got so many bones to pick,
Callin Kass wack don’t work, just like Edward scissor hands trying to click.
See I be merkin all these bitches, never break a sweat-do it with ease,
My rhymes be bringing you down, as if pee wee herman had size 32 E Titties.
Even if I spat in ya dreams, making em wet-ide bring da realness,
I must have ripped out ya nerval system-if ya cant feel this.