-Brixton- makes 'reservations' to death's inn...punches leave you with "bleeding gums" like names of "INDIAN CHIEFS"...

-Brixton- A BASTID...I'll conquer your rap style wit OBTRUSIVE TACTICS...
From the "school" of hard knocks I'll throw punchlines so ill...you wonder how I PRODUCE THESE "CLASS-SICKS (classics)"...

Ya RHYME IS CORKED...stashed away in a FINE RESORT eating you for lunch with a KNIFE AND FORK...
TALON’S QUITE DISTORT...I'll LIGHT THE TORCH and bring "bra's" to ya "casket" n give ya "LIFE SUPPORT"...

I'll SEVER THIS FAG...Ya 'text is trash'...might as well put ya LETTERS IN 'BAGS'...
Like your "record" I'm "losing my patience" with battling you wack cats like low-profit "MEDICAL STAFFS"...

I'm Treatin-Ya-Worst... Decieven~With~Curse, -Brixton- I'd Make U *Eat Ya Own Words* But It's Probaly Not Even-Ur-Verse!!
(He's A Fuckin' Biter... Pathetic!)