pick your passage of death,blinding stress delivered by crippling text, shortage of breath// 1
after i stomp on your neck//2
give you 5 seconds or less, to ask yourselfe what you have left//3
the only way you'll win, is with peace of mind and just accept defeat//4
you cant even run cause i severed your feet//5
i guess you cant resist retreat..that got you shot on the street ,like a slave guiding a beat//6

My lines are designed with XL tip "fins"//7
so each time sylabillz claims victory it'll result in“hollow-wins”..wouldnt it be a relief, if i granted you option to breathe//8
let you choke on a weed leif,before i turn your molecular structure into a gram of kief//9
trust me your burial will be brief, once were packing your remains in a piece..//10
I pack Punches in mid-evil guantllets,my responces spawn-quiek//once bogglins verses is done with//11

word to the wise, proceed with extreme causion//12
sylabillz add this to your sig, another lost win//13
DE$SKILL$ encorporate each line with unmatchable fire//14
like your chic on my bed, burning like every females hidden desire//15
I dicypher bogglins cyphers with a cracked lighter//16
bury you next to B.I.G's grave, your just another one of Puffy's “Ghost”-Writers..//17

i actually went under the limit or BARS not LINES