<.......u think u "Diesel" u can spit a BOOK OF GAME, & still COULDN'T TRAIN a HOOKER'S BRAIN,
i'll knock this dragon-mouth faggot out like SUGAR SHANE/
<......SHOOK YA FRAME, & left u walkin wit CROOKED SPRAINS,
i'll make this like a face-lift; you'll neva LOOK THE SAME/
<.....i SPIT FLOWS by the SHIPLOAD in 'PIMP-MODE',
RIP HOLES; totally expose ya LYMPH NODES/
<......a mind 5 speeds faster than yours; u can only SHIFT 2 FIRST,
deadlier than 2 much coke, & u wanna SNIFF MY VERSE/
<.......i'm 1 of the sickest niggas on this EARTH 2 HOLD SKILLS,
stoppin ya whole flow, like BIRTH CONTROL PILLS/
<.......even w/out the use of a CURSE, I'M SOOOO ILL,
w/a backslap that'll REVERSE YA WHOLE GRILL/
<......thug business--handle that 1ST, THEN GO CHILL,
i'll have ya picture on t-SHIRTS--I'M NO FRILLS/
<.......verbalized vermin; my VERBIAGE KILLS,
& if u supposed 2 be sick with the words, nigga, i must be TERMINALLY ILL
u crossin a tank, STRAPPED W/CANNONS, "hardware applause"; i "CLAP WITH HAMMERS",
aim @ ya dome & light up ya 'pumpkin' like JACK-O-LANTERNS/
<.....yall niggas know i'm FLY WHEN I ROCK SH*T,
hittin 'x' hard enough 2 eject his brain from his skull quicka than PILOTS FROM COCKPITS/
<.......but fuck it; i'mma let this starvin ARTIST MISBEHAVE,
b4 i spark the darkness of harsh carnage in NARCISSISTIC RAGE/
only thing in STORE 2 WITNESS is my horridly MORBID SICKNESS,
<.........as i demonstrate how slaughterin niggas like u is why i'm employed 2 keep MORGUES IN BUSINESS!/
it's as EASY AS THAT--i'm feasibly breezin on this feeble & MEASILY
CAT,
<.......& i'm not even H.U.N.G.R.Y., so why would ursa wanna FEED ME HIS SCRAPS?/
<.......what a waste! how u meet defeat by the BLOWS FROM MY HANDS & DIE QUICK,
who am i, g.i. joe? i'm battlin COBRA COMMANDER'S SIDEKICK!/
<.......Synickle Aka Str8killa, slicin u with the WORDS OF A SURGEON,
<......drawin blood like i'm SERVIN A VIRGIN; leavin this nerd SUBMERGED IN IT, GURGLIN/
u FAGGOTY-HOE-BITCH! u GAGGIN; IT'S HOPELESS, in FACT, I'M FEROCIOUS,
<......detachin the plaque from the BACK OF YA MOLARS while carefully CRAFTIN MY OPUS/
<......hey metal-man! i bring heat like a blacksmith, leave ya skin SCORCHIN IN FLAMES,
meltin u down 2 HAWK YA REMAINS @ pawnshops as SPARKLIN CHAINS...

holla bacc