You say you're the ShowStoppa, because that's what always happen,
The crowd gotta evacuate when you start rappin'.
You couldn't stop the heat during a solar eclipse,
You wouldn't even be a dominator with ten-thousand whips.
You bite lines like a pickpocket, hiding them deep underneath,
You couldn't bite well if you were a huge pair of teeth.
Not even in your dreams could you imagine spitting like me,
You rap so bad, you were censored by the F.C.C..
Your style is so old, it gets Social Security,
The Pope couldn't even come in and cleanse your impurity.
So here's my closer, and it's your turn to rhyme,
But to elevate to me, It's Mt. Everest you'll need to climb.