this nigga tech 9 is bitch made,
if u gotta tech 9 i'll still kill u wit' a switch blade,
tech 9 don't get played and don't get merked,
and don't think yo wack rhymes can beat me cause it aint gone work,
yo name tech 9 but it should be jerk,
this muthafucker not no rapper,
he really a purse snatcher and a little girl attacker,
don't compete wit' me cause i might just clap ya,
MAN don't make me lay u out like ah rug,
u fuck wit' me u bound to catch a slug,
u from detroit i bet u don't rep' it like me,
yo name tech 9 i bet u don't pop it like me,
my bullets spin somethin' like waves,
it put a hole in yo head like in front of a cave,
i clap 3 at yo rib cage,
u fuck with me i'll take yo rhymes out fo' lunch,
and eat that shit like a chocolate nestle crunch,
for u to be gay it must be a curse,
cause u steady wearin' braws, panies, and plus dem skirts,
bitch nigga don't get merked,
and don't message me no mo' talkin' bout " you got somethin' to slurp",