yo snypa if thats your real name
betcha couldnt load a 44 clip with a 180 grain
im the one lookin through the cross hairs of this scope
you can run, you can rhyme, im leavin you no hope
these rhymes are dope, but ya got no game
ill pop you while you're leakin in pain
the bullets i use are the size of twix
youll be hittin the ground before my magnum clicks
im closin this rhyme up, you got no chance at all
these rhymes i leave you with, leave you at a lyrical stall