aite mayne im bored so ill drop firstim already lit

SAw my callout an clicked fast to battle me cuz i was 0-0//
thinkin im a newb,but u the one 1-2.didnt no who he was fukin wit, a hik reppin o high o//
ya rhymes aint fly tho,dats da truth as u recieve my fatal blowz to ya chest//
leavin this so called textee to rest,cuz he forgot to strapp on da lyrical vest//
YA status compaired to me now is trimed,but u soon to be mediocore//
ya chances of beatin me is slim like a a fag in a game of strate poker//
U mite witstand a few of my blows if u sit there till u die typin//
explaining to these folks that ya nursery rhymes aint never winnig when im writing//
When i drop boms i dont call husane cuz i alreay pak ones that blow -up//
SUdam cud ghost write for u but u still sayin to ya self i just wont show-up//
U fukin wit a ill textee .spttin flames at ya domain cuz ya death is near//
only time u gettin heated is when ya pops yells out i got da strap on son let me put it up ya rear////////