I ‘Run’ With THE OMENS, And I ‘Cripple’ The Rest
Your Lyrics Couldn’t Hurt Me If You ‘Scratched Them In My Chest’
I Suggest You Buy Stock In My Skills, My Force-Is-Notable
You Couldn’t ‘Spit a Good Line’ If You ‘Chewed The Source-Quotable’
Your Thoughts-Are-Inconsolable … Your Girls Like Santa-Speaks (Hoe Hoe Hoe)
You Couldn’t Throw ‘Hot Spits’ If Your Name Was ‘Dantes-Peak’
You Weren’t Asked-To-Speak Coz Over Gangstas I Excel
Yo Ass Is Soft As Yolk That’s Why You Hide Behind ‘Shells’ (bullets/eggs shells)
Coms-Seen More-Spleen Than Camera’s At A Bomb-Scene
And The Only Thing You Ever Really Won Was ‘Prom-Queen’