Machine? Wanna battle, then he next-to-die, bullets will make his back reject-his-spine
Slugs blast ya chest-in-nine, my punches wreck-your-rhyme, serving you in seconds like you next-in-line

Vertebrae viciously shifted when you ex-breathe ya lippin-neck-piece
this battle? A dumb move like coca ‘a cola heads sniffing ‘pepsi’

Split-eyez, known to punch through hemispheres and leave ‘em spaced out
Your trash, so when I take out the garbage, peeps will know it’s your carcess, you’re waste now

Even if you were the owner of this site, your hip hop will never get any air play
It’s like Rudolph-vs-Comet in a deathmatch, but you’re the one who gets sleighed (slayed)

Came in the battle like a fat man bendin over, and get r.i.p-ped in the end, even if you had a blood disease, you wouldn’t be sick from within
If you say you can beat me son, you lion (lying) , go sitin in the den and being lost in my sin-tences (sentences is the only way you living a sin


I went easy on ya....