I’ll charcoal your bones n put R.I.P on your gravestone/
Wit my name above it n cuz I ripped you limb from limb,
Leave you castrated n words serrated that’s exert-in,
The battle statistics of me winning out on top is certa-in,
Bub your shook jus like as if Jesus were committing sins/
I figure your figure is jus like your raps…small in size,
N your not hung so I’ll hang you and slit your throat wide/
Slittin it wit my big dick cuz your used to suckin em,
N I’m radio-active n you get poisoned from this plutonium/
I’m schooling you n this here’s your final ‘exam’
n I’m de-feating you so you can’t ‘stand’/
(exp: exam as in getting judged by audience…schooling)

there it is uppin 4 yours.