yo you'll die a very painful death and of that i ma make sure//
your rhymes and style are those of an amature//
then he wonders why he got no wins//
ok now tha ass woopens will cominse//
kid you aint got no chance//
its easier for a 600 pound bitch 2 fit on some extra small pance//
yo ima kill this bastered close down the hole sector//
lyrical domination only think your dominating is the losess on your battle record//
ima cut your throat you wouldnt even be save with a tytenium neck protector//
u wak your hole verse is ridicules//
cut your tung out 2 have u speaking less//
why u dissin tha god now u about to get aducated//
wait maybe we got of on the wrong foot well ima amputated//
and replace it with 6 pounds of buckshots till ur hole body's shakin//
stik ten pound polls in the holes to keep tha bleedin internal//
drastik merked me go head put it down on your dayli jurnal//
but its not your folt kid its paternal//