Pine-cone's rhymes consists of a diss he thought he could insist/
the_real_MC’s flow persists of a reminisce with hit's that neva miss//
Me sayin you're ill and you have skill is a complete contradictory/
After this battle I'll feed u my medal so u can say u tasted victory//
It's like this bitch is raping lyrics the way his verse was forced/
He could add glue and tacks to his verse but it wouldn't be reinforced//
I'm quick to make your thoughts of winnin vanish like a magic trick/
This pussy couldn't put pep in his step if he used the devil's walkin stick//
You should join the army the way you showed everything u could be/
Which compared to me is nothing more than a wannabe...whack emcee//
You couldn't put a spin on your shit if I handed you a rolling tire/
This faggot could swallow a pack of lighters and still couldn't spit fire//
Optimus could attached a pic of Mike Tyson and still couldn't show punches/
His odds of winning are less than Etheopians recievin good lunches//
It's as though I'm battlin a kindergarden child the way his style's played/
You're out-weighed as you displayed, wouldn't attract viewers if u entered a parade//
You wouldn't be dropping bombs if you were comin with an air attack/
You lack, it's now a fact, couldn't hit me with energy if u were a power pack//