thats was sposed to be ya best, heres a real win
leme spit u suin from the demin within '

check it
Holy shit, thats sounded worst then a fuckin pre-school violin quire/
It's the end of the line, are you a pathalogical liar?/
Cos' all my lines are hotter then a D.j. on fire/
your not gunna win, its over your through/
I'll chop your words up, and ill feed them back to you/
You Wouldnt know skill if it hit you on the head/
I could verbally murder you and you'd be prolly play dead/
In ya verse you talked about alota cartoons, do you have a life?/
Or just a dream cast, your computer, and an inflatable wife/
if you wanted to win this, a real raper is what you'd have to hire/
Your rymes sounded like they got downloaded from 'Lime Wire'/
It's called rap dawg, something you know nothing about/
I'll have you grasping for air, like a water starved trout/
Im'a regret battling you, yeah ok/
Dont get me started dawg, i wouldnt know what to say/
Backing outa this battle, dude thats the only way/
Your last 6 lines, werent the end, they just sounded worst then the first/
You need to end ya verses in a splur of words that will be remember as ya worst/
So im out with a youve just been verbally asualted and beaten with my words/
And a your rymes couldnt petrifye me if they came to life and taveled in herds/