yo this gonna be a walk-over, like a stoll over a fukin foot bridge//
J.dubya you gonna fuked on this battle, like how you got made by ya momma and dadda// (hard)
ima murder you lyricaly and throw your body in the nearest river or creek//
these punches come so hard they make you eat your meals through a straw for a week//
my verbal attack comes like a dictonary equip with a semi-auto mack//
this dude rhymes like a dog tryin to walk with one leg//
your first loss and another victory to me//
cus the only type of flow this bitch gets it at a cetain time of the month//
what you gonna do when young buck come for you?//
i leave you on the cement bleeding, the cops asking witnesses who shot ya?//
my gun leaves your skin with gashing holes and tears and rips//
burn your bdy bring ashes back to ya momma get a comission//
at ure funeral i run out shoot the witnesses in the intermission//