I punch-wit-precision verbally-slur-you wit words that impare-your-vision/
'Slice your temple in half' so your only chance of winning is 'split-decision'/

Only time you ever win a battle is when you freestyle alone/
I 'crush' emcee's like you so often they gotta pack 'xtra bones'/

Jumpin in RB wit your slick talk wanten to battle me, fuck I aint scared/
Cause ya rhymes are like an 'EXCERSISE BIKE', shit aint 'GOIN no-where'/

Like the fear of a man scared of chickens you dead cause of a cock/
Permanet virgin havin a 'flinstone doll' on ya matress is only time ur 'bed-rocks'/

Drain ya spinal fluid, put it in ya pen, so ya can back up ya lines/
kid, I’m firen more ghost-writers than lay-off’s at the New York Times/

Ya sittin there lookin stupid, "ZONED-OUT" readin these bars/
Girls got ya hot-n-bothered but since ya can't get none ya start fuckin the "tail-end" of cars/