i can kick ya ass with a practice swing, you couldnt be fly on an airplane wing /

I bet ya sit at home thinking ya the king, but ya aint at home this the battle ring /

This is just the warm up beat, but I can already smell ya defeat/

You and your crew think ya know the street, but ya cant even flow over a beat /

my sickness is for real, the only bite ima do is when i make ya my meal/

I dont think ya can get the feal, ya dont spit the real-deal only the thug appeal/

in this first battle i'll be the illest victor, i'll smack ya wit a mic and gas you like adolf hitler/

your down for the count cause nigga im a constrictor, fat ass hits the floor hard and measures on the richtor/

my virus strikes your minute heart with fear, as it eats into your guts giving you verbal diarreah/

while your runny mouth is talkin queer, you'll soon realize under my wrath you cant persevere/

10 lines