Im Stealing Lunches, the Way Im Feeding Blac A Loss,
My Punches are Rapidly Firing, like Im an Angry Boss/
You aint EVEN on my Level, so A win is Against All Odds,
Got you Prayin to the Devil Cause you're being Dispensed By God/
Tearing Up Copies Of the Source, is the only way your Mics get Ripped,
Your not worthy to be in a THREAD with me, So have a STICH/
Damn, you Try to find inner Illness, but you got Lost in a Blac Haze searching,
Your rhymes should be on unemployment, cause they sure Aint Working/
Ill Steal ya shadow, because a LOSS is Definately Lurking,
Ill go Back In time, and kill your moms to prevent Wackness From Birthing/
All your punches are played, like reruns of Tyson vs. Lewis fights,
The reasons for your wackness?, I guess you're allergic to mics/