You know tha drill, leavin opponents killed, im known as ill, Pound will 'stomp ya skull', got you fallin' "HEAD OVER HEELS"/
*clap toast?*, Lone's got 'butter fingers' resemblin' George winters, he's never "HOLDIN' STEAL"/(still)
Show Some Skill, ya verses have no appeal, i post for thrills, my text alone got you holdin' shields/
poppin' Motrin pills, Plague chose fast food part time so he can brag how he "SOLD A MEAL"/
Pounds tha crazy 'type', only described as amazing, nice...i lost 'intrest' in you a while back, now its time you 'pay tha price'/
my coldness will apear across tha screen, im leavin plague 'scrappin' ice'/
this will fade ya hype, i came to fight, blazin' mics-each phrase i write, got you afraid to type, piercin' ya frame wit spikes/
you Think you 'spit', well thats not very "LADY LIKE!", when i logged on he stained his drawls, went to type his verse and strained his paws/
grabbed his chest in pain and awe, then collapsed after a belated pause.../
i'll beat you to death wit a cell phone, then leave tha police to "TRACE THE CALL"/(chalk outline)
Pounds 'imperial', scipts nuthin' short of a mirical, ramin' spears threw skulls, givin' you 'stiches' as a hint that you need to work on your "material"/
breakin' faces...i'll take ya braces, swing at ya teeth and create deep spaces, abusin plague with abrasive phrases/
got him afraid of basic statments, left slightly disturbed form intemidation, shakened...i fight for the win/
producin' fire from pens, i'll leave you embarrassed just to prove im nicer than him, after this you'll have no choice but to retire My freind...

*George winters is a english theif that allways slipped up*