He was born September 11, makes sense, a day of disaster...
But no one's mourning your death, they couldn't wish it any faster.
Callin out vets, when ya miserable record shows ya ain't won...
I shouldn't even drop a verse, you showed up here sonned.
Runnin with a no-talent crew, tryin ta act tha Renegade...
Kid, ya rhymes wouldn't blow up, if ya mic was a hand grenade.
So step off, fuck off, and go back ta newbie fantasy land...
The place in ya head where you can actually rap, and actually are a man.
Cuz here ya a bitch, that name soundin like a oral porn ho...
Who can't get enough dick, and gargles semen ta claim hot flow.
Flowz ain't lucious, far from phat, in fact they anorexic...
Cuz ya building on nothin, and like in bed, can't even get erected.
So I'll finish this sweetly, leave him cracked and humble...
Kid, ya nothin but a cookie, and ya done been crumbled.

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Merkings will occur Monday thru Friday, 8 am thru 5 pm, C.S.T.
For my convenience, not yours!