**ayyo...get Xplicit's dick out ya ass right quick and listen up**
<<<mic check 1-2**

First of all your style is more outdated than mc hammer’s baggy pants/
The only way u can flow something is if u start doing the belly dance/
I’d send u to war but U suck so much u would “blow” the whole Mission/
Fruity private u a cast away like Tom hanks on his Road to perdition/
U no competition like a kitchen with no fire your style is insufficient/
And it’s not to fix, I bring the opposite to all your shitty politics/
U swallow dicks like porno chicks desperate for dough to get smaller tits/
Your heart is missed cuz u wanted to be part of this lyrical apocalypse*/
Lotta jibberish cuz ur rhymes are more useless than a busted rubber/
Battles u just lost another so u feel fucked, like when u got raped by ur foster father/
Trust me brother, my flow is priceless so u feelin the cost of water/
U behind enemy lines but it doesn’t matter; I’mma hit u across the border/
My Rhymes bust your cheap prostitute act in “half” that u now a “Semi-ho”/
U talk outta ya “ass”, I plugged in an antenna so u’ll get ur “shit” on the radio/
Hate me though but I push the mic so deep down your throat it sounds stereo/
Fact is that u can get “how high” u want but u still in yo mama's basement/
Mad at me cuz I’m in a crew that wouldn’t even use you as replacement/
It’s amazing how u base your whole act on one battle statement
U couldn’t “flow right” even if u was the “west” part of the Hudson Bay/
U lost today, it’s hard to say but stop tryin to convince urself u wasn’t gay/

(*The Elements*)