nigga, you couldn't carry a gat if it was strapped to ya hand. ya rhymes are like an invisible plane, they hard to see where they land
ya punches are comin up short like midgets boxin
runnin for ya life when the clip locks in da gun.
bitch dis battle was done, 'fore it even begun.
i'll stomp out ya life wit one sole (soul) LOL
ya askin fa a recount like someone fucked wit da polls(the 2001 election...gore vs bush)

the sixth line is garbage, but fuck it. i couldn't think of anything to rhyme wit gun.