Man ima murder you like hannibal, eat your brains, searching for some illness//
But none can be found, in P's hole vocabulary//
i could make it better by ripping out pages of the dictonary//
shovin them through his mouth violently, but he still wouldnt win//
he goes to the father at a church to pray, but he dont have no sin// (Priest - Molester)
now hes a weekly prayer, but this lil P cant respond to me//
your flow couldnt be hot even if it was straped with a lava rock//
Lil young P, i rename you lil young Bitch, cus ure rhyme like a dike that aint eatin pussy in a while and you need a fix//
so ima end this lil bitch, with two bullets go through his gut, burn up your stomach bile//
my lyrical lines, infiltrate through youngs mind, making his body inclined to run away//
even though pre-school is where he is attendance, i still take his shirt, and his rugrats pendant// - badge type thing
so if you deside to respond, just remember mental damage can be prolonged//