After this there'll be one less thing on my to-do list/
And you'll be left like Fab without his DJ..."CLUE-LESS/
True dis, I see you get ya rhyme scheme and tried to expand it/
But fact is son no one can understand it/
These punches landin, and you gon down in history/
As the first lyrically "murdered" cat on UNSOLVED MYSTERIES/
I'll put you in the "New York Times"/
Headlines.../
"Fake rapper missin for spittin wack nursery rhymes"/
My lines hit you hard, leave you with sick death marks/
I read ya shit and fat bitches got better LINES...STRETCH MARKS/
If you spit punches then you'll be left with swollen lips/
God gave you a gift, problem is, you never OPENED IT
the end you little bitch..........