Yo bitch you need to chill out, I work from 9-7 Thursday and Friday, Im Checkin in now.

~Startin~

Yo I hope you ready for the war, cause I can't believe your ready for what I got in store.

Your nothin but a phony bitch, drivin around in the bmw, bumpin Nelly and other whack shit.

You got nothin, soft rhymes stuffin, like your boyfriend puttin his bun in your oven.

You bent over screamin, like "damn this is one hell of an ass reamin"

"I think I'll stay home while you work and I do the cleanin"

You fucked up callin me out, your not just weak your gettin your shit punched out

Twelve rounds of domination, A blood drought in the inner sanctum of that cesspool you call an organ station.

Im takin you out kid, but not to the park, it's a school night and you cant be up after dark

It's to late you know your mistake, but your huddled in fear screamin "Enemy at the gates!". (movie <)

Now remember you had nothing to gain, by calling me out, you walkin cumstain.

Your generic, your rhymes wreak of bad DNA, like they were cloned from the brains of your inbred parents.

~The End~

You aint here to battle, Your not here to win, dont ever show up in my zone wearin a diaper again.