Fuck Saint, I'm bout ta' paint a picture...
Envision me flat out plain fuckin ya sista...
hey mista, why don't u think of suckin ya fingah'...
It's obvious you need some babysittah's ta' sit ya...
I'll rip ya...
Leave ya lookin like a mugged down Salvation Army bell ringah,
or country singah'...
I'll tackle you like Milloy mixed wit Sapp...
Nail you like Bledsoe as tha quarterback in tha forth quarter if that...
I make you dissapear quickah than a David Blain trick goin strong...
Click...click...Poof, bitch be gone...
Ya rhymes are fake faggot I'll be wishin you had some true hope in those...
But for now all tha real rappah's will call u Pinoccio...