Ya Lyrics are whack, it's why ya Insane ta come at me...
Set my laptop on my boombox cuz I DO 'stereotype' ya a newbie!
With the season begun, lemme put my foot ta ya balls...
But can't seem ta find any, ya pants like empty pool halls.
So drop ya sack, son and 'finally grow into a man'
But you just hear queer, and wanna follow the plan.
Ya must grow lines in dirt the way ya 'soil' ya rhymes...
Overwatering with idiocy, ya couldn't be dope if you's High Times.
It's like ya pay for cornfields cuz ya buyin the farm...
Like iron fortune cookies ya fates sealed and eatin em's causin harm.
Like canine euthanasia, I'm puttin this dog's rhyme ta sleep...
Spit like gas till ya life pass and ya owner's start ta weep.
So Lyrical...this beatings just a lesson, don't get too sad...
Cuz I cold drove ya Insane like I'm wearin a chauffeur's hat.

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Merkings will occur Monday thru Friday, 8 am thru 5 pm, C.S.T.
For my convenience, not yours!