O shit yo a pimp now
I maybe a lady
but i surely will not have ur baby
surely i'll get in the kitchen
quit ur bitchin
ill be servin
u a freshly fried chicken
finger licken
i stay sitten
on top
what you think you was born and raised in hip hop
and my rhyme flopped
It's time yo get stopped
it's not poetry
it's floetry
get it straight
i reeled you in with the right baight
i'll serve you on the fight plate
beet you down like tate
yeah i got a tight pussy
and no you may not go down you to wussy
that's why you stay rappin on 0-0
on no
you to stupid to fly
so why
do you want a rematch
i'll cook up another hot batch
and be quick with the win snatch
what you got a cheerleader
your a bottom feeder
and from what i heard a long bleeder
I planted the seed
Follow my lead
and maybe you'll water it
try to come at with some badder shit

__________________
Let God speak for the underground Psalm 49 16-17
16 Do not be overawed when a man grows rich when the splendor of his house increases
17 For he will take no thing with him when he dies, his splendor will not descend with him
18Though while he lived he counted himself blessed - and men praise you when you prosper-
19 He will join the generation of his fathers, who will never see the light of life

20 A man who has riches without understanding is like the beasts that perish