N litEND I’ll trouble-you, pure-lyrics-flow-like-grease/ cut your fingers with scissors leave less-digits-than-po-leece (911)
You’re far too soft like luncheon-meat, bout to get shaved-punched-and-beat/ you couldn’t run with my crew if I gave-you-my-feet
What crew would want you? You’re alone-you-muss-be/ I aint a Chinese chef but I’ll bone-your-pussy
I’m compared to Snoop Dogg from the UK to Cali/ the only dog you compare to is a bitch named Lassie
You’re no competition on a mission to defeat/you would cry-on-my-street/ you gotta live on your knees or die-on-your-feet
From the slums to the best my puns are on a quest/ I wrote this rhyme in cum so it’s hard to digest (cum doesn’t digest)
N litEND? You’re frightened, stop it, start fighting/ can’t see your reflection I’m expecting you’re biting (vampires have no reflection and they bite)
The sound-of-you makes me do things I’m not allowed-to-do/ I’m only size seven but I cover more ground-than-you/
Only 5 foot 6 but I’ll ALWAYS talk down-to-you/ I hurtle, rap in circles I alone can crowd-your-crew