Young Buck, your outta luck, I just don't give a fuck about you
I got you saying "Oh shucks, I suck" when I hit you with line two
So tell me how Im gunna lose, I was born to win
Battle me? Fuck it, its like coming to Christ with your sins
You hit me with punches? Imma make sure your bruises are worse
Even though I cant touch ya physically, mentally its gunna hurt
And I'm not concieted, I just know you'll be the one defeated
The rap game, you should leave it - what i got, you cant beat it
From now on, Im gunna crush those who oppose
Call me the saviour of rap - Jesus who? - God chose me
Cuz when I start to spit, you cant stop me, I'll stick to my form
Your rhymes are strictly average, Im way better than the norm
N I'll stay ahead of the storm, I just can not be touched
Your rhymes are fucking shit, that deserves to be flushed
I'm hurting you? Good - I gotta syllable slap ya
make you look even more foolish, and create so laughta
So what you bring to me, don't mean a thing to me - its less than worthless
I've seen little kids rap better than u - u make me laugh cuz you belong in the circus
that’s where a clown really belongs, anywhere but rapbattles.com
N’ I know the truth hurts but it gets worse, so go n cry to your mom
Cuz I hit you up, shit you up, ate you up and spat ya
I bust the .45 and its like applause when I clap ya
Bullets cutting through you making you run n’ scream “Oh FUCK!”
The next person to leave this site cuz of embarrassment - YOUNG BUCK!