ike-anrap------what the purpose of even write-n-back
ya white-N-wack Blame-N-blacks
as an excuse of why u-can't-Rap

Fuck even I-Can-Rap/ but eatin my spits is like bite-in-glass
why do i battle wanna be gangsters that were tighned-rags --
I'm licensed to blast but its like i'm always fightin fags
u feed off my verse/is ya curse & thats why u writin-last

i'm like a panic attaack at 1000 feet-to leave you broke-n-snapped
crack every vertabray as u screem- and king you wih your own broke-n-back
i'ma smoke coke-n-grass/so my throat is strapped
with 4-packed-gats
like old jeresy cuz they throw-back-fast

i'll burn rhymes till they light my torck
and ignite my 4-4's till they till u dead and scorched
forced threw ya doors and open ya pores
scored with with the 4th and left ya corps on the porch