check it . . .

this faggot has no idea what he’s in for, like gays on blind dates//
you’re pitiful, you’re mental is only municipal while mines a mind state//
even though I’m goin’ second you’re still effortlessly ‘ gettin’ blasted first//
no doubt, after this you’re records gonna be 8-4 like the year after your birth//
in 83’ you were lifeless in your mother’s womb, even then you couldn’t kick it//
but you were still born, and stepped to me insistin’ on getting’ your wig split//
“sick like South Africa”?, shit you’re only playin’ a role and you do it so poorly your part died//
although you’re faggot ass is rampant wit’ AIDS, damn this shit is unfair like apartheid//
you only act ill like Tom Hanks in “Philadelphia” so there’s no need to medicate your wack lines//
you only come semi-raw like when you poke holes in your condoms, hopin’ to impregnate your dad’s wife//
maybe she’ll give birth to a son that can spit cause that’s the only way you’ll ever relate to a real lyricist//
let me make sure I’m clear in this, you have no chance similar to a married queer havin’ an affair with an Algerian bitch//
like an anorexic versus a woman of god you’re chances of winnin’ this are slim to nun//
you just don’t look hungry enough, you’re gluttonous and I can see you prayin’, your done!//
my mom had an MC section, shit ever since I was born I’ve been murkin’ wit’ fatal cranial lyrics//
I’ll rip you up and leave you torn worse than your faggot ass durin’ your first gay anal experience//
I come with clever metaphors which severe every competitor thinkin’ he’s gettin’ a head//
and when I’m done wit’ you you’ll be missin’ a cranium, you should’ve learned you’re lesson instead//
c’mon, you run wit’ I-WIZZY, Kerdezzy, pcrook and vendetta//
you’re wack by association, the only thing you really post is a letter//

. . . alright, poll vote . . .