Stuck like an Ant in ma spit wen it fills, i'll shit wat u 'cant' on ya hills//
Giant footsteps dat git you Hit, Punches reliant and good-kept man they'll split ya shit//

Termination be ya logical motivation, to adapt and achieve elevation//
Realation to my tri-logical motive fo hatin, "i'll be back"- so believe my explanation//

I see a crackhed and a -lyricall waste, -no attack or ambition, no -spirit to chase//
No Rappa -just'a serious disgrace, -ya flow lacks transition, theres -fear in ya face//

Blurred, like censorship when ya fuckin voice ain't even herd//
Stirred, expense is shit, it's ya choice ta be wack wit ya verbs//

No lethalness what so ever, u try'ta preach ta this oh so clever//
Recievin this have you wieghtless like a feather, Re-vealing punches so hard, u lose patience all-together//

Out-of-a-Job wen the e.r. released you or whatever, I'm Aressted fo mal-practice cuz i neva sieaze ta operate iL-legally//
U caressed a Foul-Sack thas sick Cuz, you on a opera-date like Lincholn, killed-feebely//

Assisinated in the booth by the fuckin booth//
Hated by the studio ugly is tha truth//

Mc's call me the timberland, Cuz I give bitches like u tha Tha boot//
I.C.(ILL Componenst) like Models for rappaz, dA crew flows sick even at'a picture shoot//

Bruised spirits can only have an effect on you visious, you fainted//
I'll drink picters of liquor quicker than pictures already painted//

So i'm spit prone- call u Alize, and ya clique Vodka//
Youz "ALittle Bone"- like bizzay, it aint shit'a shot ta drop ya//