Yo I look down then look at you with THA MIC IN MY HAND//
You're rhymes were to much over due so I had to call tha RE-PO man//
The fear of battling is what made you LEAVE-THA-SITE //
I'ma 'PELT' you with punches like when trappers and beavers-fight //
I'm a SADISTIC 'CAT' towards ya 'CLICK' (crew) when King-pounds-his-'MOUSE' //
Unreal 'BLOWS' big time, yet his HOT AIR can't BRING-DOWN-THE-HOUSE //
Not even if you had an accident in a shed where you store-leaf-blowers //
You're 'PUSHING' your luck like leprechauns selling four-leaf-clovers //
Nobody wants BEEF with me like vegetarians GETTING SERVED red-meat //
Ya text rhythm is a BASTARD like the father you never knew... a DEAD-'BEAT' //
Your BENT OUTTA SHAPE like a fat man seeing a gymnast and trying to mimic-contortions //
I CUT short ya DELIVERY like last minute-abortions //