Mentally-Kursed Has Just Been Sent-To-Rehearse
The Only Grip You Got On Rap Is On Ya 50-Cent-Purse
I Disperse Punches Frequent… You’re Already Punch-Drunk
You’ve Lost Your Hunger Like Xzibit Fucked-Up At The Lunch-Truck
In This Punch-Up You’re Dumb-Struck, Coz I’m A Vandal
The Only Strap You Own Is The One On That’s One Your Sandals
Like A Candle I Burn You, From The Top-To-The-Bottom
Drop The Full Weight On Kursed When It’s My Job-To-Spot-Him
Pinkslip You When Night-Falls, And How Could I Fail?
I’ll Prise Out Your Eyeballs, Coz Rap Battles Ain’t Brail
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