My punches hit rockin so hard that it'd be impossible for him not to Have-A-Scare/
Stab-you-far, down the pipes of your veins, this wannabe got Jay-Z for his Av-A-Tar/
Disconnect-ya-bones, now it's obvious this punk realised the Feelin-Hit/
rockin rhymes is standin Next-Ta-Phones, callin emergency cuz he don't know who he's Dealin-Wit/
I'll give this guy pressure-he-can't-handle, you ain't no fuckin Class-For-My-Rating/
See what i am is Fresher-When-I-Battle, to this verse alone he's Mas-Ter-Batin/
With these delicate-words-I-Ruin-ya-voice-box, QB Snyper is what you call "Gleed Weapons"/
Where you're like Elliot-Herbs-when-suckin-boys-cocks, look at your filthy record/
Slice your body in half, one out, the other motherfuckin Half-Smacked-You/
Your rhymes maybe funny, but you're yet to realise that these people Laugh-At-You/
Little stupid bitch, if rockin rhymes is the name that these fucked up peeps Call-Ya/
I've already beaten Three-Newbies, now a Jay-Z-Groupie who's also The CT Brawl-er/(he's from Ct.)