yo chek it//...

actin seedy but ur game aint worth-it-underground//
voices travelling but ur words are laggin striclty streamin speed of lackin Noun's//
Noun...dont get it...a hyperbole' for u ta intake within ya own immense intelect//
Like Gore...the words u spit only vote u in as a political dik-elect//
Ya Shits sweet like a fece on a sprinkled cone spreaded neatly//
can't take it in but from a-far ur verse seen as summin spat elitly//
course it aint...like paint on a sign full of polymathane coating//
Look ta-stick but it slides rite down, along a side ur tantefull gloating//
scrotum up in a mesh takin ass rapin's from emcees wit no record stance//
Mathematicly up ur ass creatin a visectimy...ya never stood a chance//
Grammer 101 got ur game tightly wrapped in a lyrical sum of nun//
try ta butter up get-on -a-roll...but nigga u forgot da bun//
wikidly ill...scream an screaches of mutiny reign like a reeper waitin to kill//
contemplatin every move on u....like a ravin cravin atteinion perchin a window sill//
call me da bird-man if it so compell's ur will//
Fucked wit CJ.....dat ryhme u poured jus spilled//
even tho u missed jus like ur game...ur spill will neva stain so no need ta call throw in a towel//
hurry up wit yo actin...da inevatable is creepin an ya sent is gettin foul//
C witta motha fukin J destroyed u like a in-soluble piece of liquiadted glass//
saw through my tint but in the end i roll my benz, u'll never kreep on past//

next//...