When you stepped to this KrAcKa that was your first mistake, fuck steak, Ill chow you down like chocolate cake //
You don't have no style so don't be a fake, because im gonna beat your ass so bad your toes will ache //
My style is versatile, and im gonna put you on file as just another wannabe watchin too much 8 mile //
Im mutha fuckin hostile, I will bust open your smile and leave you to lay in a pile, And ask, "Was it worthwhile?" //
Your face will be red, It will cover your head, maggots will eat you, oh darn, your dead //
Your like 3-month-old bread, Your all moldy and your stinking up this thread //
It will be like 'Murder She Wrote', ill cut you off at the thoat, and tie you to a cinder so you wont fuckin float //
So bitch make note, ill lyrically defined and my style is like no other, youll get so many chills youll get a coat //
This is one of the quickest rhymes ive ever spilled, and compared to you it'll still be skilled //
Like a black fly on the front of a harley, bitch you've been grilled, and like all of my opponents, youve just been killed //