Severe got as much confidence as slaughter bound cattle.
Last night he dreamed of facing me, and still lost the battle.
Cuz I'm a spit lyrics that are way more severe than his.
Even though he studied me he gonna fail this like a pop quiz.
Ya brain has dead cells cuz it really needs a jump start.
Ya ply ya craft in rafts round castles tryin ta flow like Mozart.*
Sobriety and elevation are ya pet peeves, ya a drunken lowlife.
Spittin & sippin in the kitchen cuz ya more like a tipsy housewife.
So ya continue to drop and give migraines like anvils on heads.
Never gettin ya point to cum across like sex in seperate beds.
So I'll end this verse with a short but serious reminder.
Racehorses have better vision than you, and they always wear blinders.


*Mozart (moat's art, moats are around castles)