you think you the streets so ima leave ya face on the pavement/
your dick rydin payment was after each bar claiming a parentheses statement/

you're a bitch and you chose Brooklyn to leave you beaten and shot../
the only time you've 'braced steel' is when you accidentally bit your teeth on your crew leader’s cock/

I cut and open shit, braiding your hair was the last time you were holding clips/
you came up short, a verse with less support than all 4 of the Olsen’s tits/

yo might as well leave the board cuz u got lucky and beat me before/
but i’ll even the score, cuz my shit so hot im like a rug on fire ill heat the floor/

I must be a God because i’ll make you drop your knees on the ground/
I’ll drop your “masses” like soil and whip street till he flees to the pound/

spittin slugs from his mouth and croakin in sickness made him think he’s the "illest on mics"/
thinks he can provoke people, but this bitch is fake & no personals cuz his only "skill-is-to-bite"/

*last comments*

i'll leave ya without a cause and feelin blue, like u in desert storm and don’t even have a "Clue"/

ya style is funny, how u gonna rap serious against me, i perpetrate ya mind to help u to think clearly/
ya losin in this dearly, like Freddy Kreuger..ya ass better fear me, im known world wide so just start to revere me/