Preparing to drop bombs upon this lyrical incompetent
Involve lament…RB turns away, I’m slamming you on cement
You must repent…take it back…admit my skills are more
A 'soft-more' so I can't be wrecked I’m 'Hard' ill to the 'Core'
Elevate? you're going nowhere, you're room wit a knobless door
Suicidal…danger to myself…the way I’m ‘heading’ into ‘wrecks’
You’re a flapping salmon…caught up in my death rhyme nets
If words paint pictures I’m gonna hit you with a ‘ton’ of a ‘hues*’
Bringing distortion to your views, tactical Kevorkian hews
Your punches can’t hit me like George boxing Roy Jones*
You will never be high as me you’re stagnant like lawn gnomes
It’s ironic how Lyrical Soldiers always fall to me in Front Lines
None of them can stand a chance like turtles flipped on their hinds
Thoughtless minds, bring it, all your skills combined can’t compare
That’s a dare, my skills are rare, I’ll shit on yall like old underwear
Yung buck a dumb fuck, ego is diminishing with every single word
Head is damaged caused by my evil lyrics…a double-edged sword
Wrecka you are useless to RB, like a guitar with broken down chords
Ama end this punishment knowing I left you fully incapacitated
Your potency is now a weakened reflection…like jeans worn out & faded


*ton of hues = houston
*george foreman and Roy jones jr