This Kid clamin he a con but he only a Wack-Delinqwent,
Attack-Sequent, he like pressured thugs only pull the Mac-Frequent!
Clamin you comin hard like spys on a mission,
Like Drunks aimin guns kid gon die While-He-Missin!
Mental is timin errors and im Clockin-Your-Flaws,
Mockin-Your-Raw, im sendin armed trojans heavy equipped with Dicks-Knockin-Your-Jaw!
Mental tossin bombs like playin with Hand-Grenades,
Ill flame up ya iris while sprayin u up with Cans-Of-Raid!
Ghosts taunting-your-spine while spirits haunting-ya-mind,
Brooklyn is addicted to Crack cuz this kid really wanting The-Lines! (he did 21 lines - max is 20)
You aint pressin the keys like blind men disabling-explosives,
Mental the presidental congress the way im relabling-notives!
brooklyn loves it HardCore he already been Beaten four times,
Ya throat-greetin-knifes, I dont go down south but ive eaten-wives!

Spits will leave you Top-less puttin your Brain-In-The-Cold,
Im Breakin Your Heart kid like Grimreepers when Staining-Your-Soul!
Mental like a giving salesman im always Getting-my-Portion,
Im known for Killing Kidz and Murkin Suns like I was splitting-an-orphan!
I cause death when I write amored spits that cant be Grazed-with-Infections,
When Mental Stamina start to Spill Heat I leave ya Journal Pages Blazed-In-Sections!!!