what bitch, suck dick like a slut trick/
better yet like your gyrl when I had ha over and had my nuts licked/
trust this, yous a jockin mothafucka, tryin to be me/
bitch you couldn’t byte my style if I put it thru yo teeth/
my skills high, too high for you to reach/
watch niggaz laugh at you when you and I compete/
better come complete or completely get yo ass beat/
you only fantasized about beating me, as if you thought it in yo sleep/
niggaz know I keep the heat snugged tight, fuck this thug whyte,
your not gonna need poll votes, your gonna need donations of your blood type/
I’ll abandon you bloody and you’ll be chillin with my victims/
I’ll kick yo ass out a here and leave you with nuthin like ghetto evictions/
this nigga think he nice but can’t do shit-to-me/
leave his his face WHYTE, shocked from my lyrical ability/
this nigga thinks he can be a platinum plus boss/
the only way he can do that is if he buys a platinum plaque and puts a plus across/
I rap instantly, your raps interest me/
cuz I wanna know what not to do when I battle a real MC/
I’ll come up from behind and jack you from your hat to yo shoes/
cut off your dick, feed it to you, and have you pissin thru tubes/

AFTER YOUR BITING!!!!!!!!

yo, if you ‘subtract’ your homies flows, then your lyrics are ‘minimal’/
you couldn’t be a bout ‘rappin’ if your parents named you ‘lyrical’/
don’t think you can out flow me cuz I’m only nineteeen/
I know you’ve been fucked by other niggaz, cuz my dick fits in clean/
you finally choked from the quilt you felt within/
how’s he a real MC, he’s got other niggaz helpin him/
If I’m winnin a “Fake Rapper contest”, then you must-be-the-judge/
you cheated on this battle, and you’re the one holdin-the-grudge/