R.B., send me someone with double his skill who's double as ill/
Someone who can fulfill the words they spill who's realer than a $3 bill//
This bitch just checked in to the merk hotel so bid him farewell/
His verse coulda been wrote by a demon and still wouldn't be hot as hell//
I'm equivalent to a radar gun but my lyrical speed can't be clocked/
You can't enter this staged because I have this level locked//
His style's wack, like an egg it'll crack, his rhyme's couldn't hold up if pinned with a tack/
Don't ever forget who brought this attack who snatched you from the front and put you in back//
Your flow is simplistic but mine is mystic and my mind is sadistic/
Don't fuck with someone who idealistic that's how you become just another statistic//