ight man sorry for bein late but heres my drop

attacks are drastic so pack ya casket, leave ya wit arms, legs n' an ass of plastic/
this rancid bastard bout to get blasted wit acid, till they take ya assets home in baskets/
get bashed with classics when we clash fists, ya gettin beat with chainsaws/
fuck the set up, i'll cut ya head up, fork ya mind n' eat ya brains raw/
mangle and cut, i'll tangle ya guts into angles n' such/
hangin ya ankles and nuts, n' force ya sister to have u fuckin spanked in the butt/
death lurkin, it's smurkin. knowin you's finished, cuz ya punches is workin soft/
shit, if everybody that doubted you fucked themselves... the whole WORLD'd be jerkin off/
This fix bricks ya clique and mix inflicts splits when I spit pedantic hits/
Ya writs are shit.. and punches aren't 'touching' like bad romantic flicks/
Beatin on ya like a band drum, ragin' barbarics make ya glands numb/
And ya drops are like sean paul lyrics.. nobody understand's 'em!/
and i'm back, back to bag this 'snack' and prove he's a 'Dork-ito'/
i should call ya "stuffed Tito" coz ya got more cholesterol than Benzino/

...not much but a lil sumtin for ya