You can Aim For Perfection but ya Name Blows Protection/
Your Game is Mis-Direction, punches Played like'a Hoes Rejection/

I can't beleive you Wanna AGAIN Feel Low, cuz you can't Beat Me for Real Yo/
I'll "De-Feet" your deal bro, now you only get the W if u do tha heel-toe/(not happenin)

Beleive it wat's delt tha Odds of our battle is Meks-to-Bluffing/
Even w/ help from rap gods Your Skill is Next to Nothing/

If I read your verse is makes me weary and my eyes hate to peep/
You Write with a pillow and sheet, scream in sum1's ear wit ya rap and they still go to sleep/

You Lack Action and Back Trackin you wish there was a such thing as battle re-traction/
Wak Matchin, u should only attack tha slackin, ur raps not redy for a punch happy re-action/

0 - 9 and tryin, you judged whacker than tha 9 yr old brother of mine/
Ur flow is cryin, uz a fudge-packer who whines to his mother wen he rhyme/
******Finisher********
Wish you could Go Home- Cover your spine/
So Rb dunno youz a Homo- Lover in DisGuise/

I'm Eatin your Lyrics like a feast, Your Wrist Rocked out wit Fake Ice/
Take The beatin at least, you get to see yaself get Pissed-knocked out and raped TWICE/15 lines