lez key it up... g'luck

im tha real Lyrikal 'Ace' a 'pest~detective' spit text perfect to leave ya net~infected/
niqqas readin my verse, left tha rest~neglected... im courteous enuf to battle u dog u best~respect~it/
leave ya whole set~in~wreckage be glad if u sign off tonite wit ya neck~connected...

aight...

dog... u wouldnt make tha 'rap cut' if u saw Nas and split his hair in half/
u dont drop battle verses, u be spittin paragraphs, wit a beat in tha background/
u bout to get racked now, ull just be a 'bad memory' like an old 'ghost crack town'/
ya posts lack style, sportin ya capri's and ya old navy tees while ya family is livin decrepit... "Mo gravy please!"/
ull beat me... when penguins fly and newborn babies die hairy/
fake baller no PC, postin his raps at tha library, no hip-hop knowledge life is strictly carnal/
in innerviews he confirmed his favorite 'Mc' was 'Donald', must be 'fatigued' vendetta always 'lies' in rap/
only time he's on tha mic he spittin, 'Would u like fries wit that?'/
im like nah niqqa 'U got beef?' we can take this outside/
this bitch bout cried, talkin bout 'Funny u spit so quick, u left my mouth dry/
Aint that a bitch? by the way... ya bar structure is inadequate too/
i could type static that has higher status than u/
Vendetta's a weird niqqa, sittin silent tryin to hear a forest tree fall/
u bout as useless as an outfield in 'element'ary girls tee-ball/
cause u aint hittin it that hard, ur 'reply' is similar to Shank's... he didnt get that far/

That's it fo me......Spit.........

(shanks = Dirty Shank's)