OK SON


KILLA MC HUGH!!!

Killa Mc dont got a trailor, he lives in a heap//
He's mutated from incest, SIX TOES on his feat.
Theres nothing wrong with a little country grammer//
But you've gone to far cuz your sister's your mama.

PICKING IT UP!!!!!

Im a cleverly, steadily, betterly eraze your memory//
Shouldnt take too long cuz theres nothing there to test me

Your a bar mat and when I spill you soaking it up//
And with two sips of my skill your already drunk

You've killed yourself steppin in this quicksand, your a joke//
Up to your neck in this battle and now your gonna choak.

I'll push your head into stone the opposite of excalibur//
Send you back to the dark ages so King Aurther can battle ya!
Even against his skeleton, you would loose//
Chilled to your bones you got no guts to use.

FINISH HIM!!!

No one cares who you are or what your name is//
I chose you for my victim cuz you wont be missed.

You aint ever killed no one in your whole life//
Your rhymes coudnt cut it if they were written with knifes.

Im gonna bruise you up, what hope have you got?//
If your face were a map then X marks the spot.

THERE YOU GO DOG!!!

YOUR TURN!!!