motha fucka calls himself a snypa.....holdin a crucifix to scalps only time he's seen cross hairs/
only time QB's lines look focused.....is when he sees thru his glasses....and i just smashed both pairs/
shit outta luck....my rhymes come with extra strength and yours are less than mild
this guys got a face only a mother could love.....and he's an orphan child!/
i sent him a message guaranteed to help his lyrics....but he still didn't IM-prove/
44 hand picked wins against wack cats....musta accepted this battle two lose/(will be his second)
it's like your mind is a prison and vocab just bust it open too....cos like houdini convicts words escape you/
crewless and wack what do i have to do to get the idea through?hit a nail in your brain to see my point of view?/
i'm waitin on the comeback.....my verse will have u searching for an angle of attack but i'll see no debris/
so QB tried to enroll in an evening college.....just to find a degree/
ur punches need to develop a sense of timing.....they just ain't clock wise/
always headed the wrong way.....i'm uppin the anti leavin u blubberin like rejected brides/
says he gonna smack me up like his vid in his signature....that shits lame/
he gets the first punch in....but seconds later in the clip i knock him the fuck out the frame!/


editted for spelling