you hardcore(hard-cor) to being a fruit i can tell by your drops/
u couldn't be hot.... living in hell trying to get props/
your record sells flop u dont get enough to make bail from cops/
u got technique for bending over in jail and grabing your socks/
your raps are not mad they more sad than sibilings crying over dead relatives/
your not even worth a diss cause what i read from u is irrelevant/
yeah u better get over your anger and stay scared of me kid/
cause with the clip i'll have u dip and get flipped when its your chest i rip/
u from pregneat city the home of all the bitchs and queens/
i'll steal your riches and become supreme/
leave u in a ditch wrapped like a mummy/
your style i clap and its funny try to rhyme back you'll get beat/
u rhyme wack and u from the streets u must be the block geek/
so u jump on a computer the only time u can be thugged out/
till i bust u out with the drops i bring rough like a gun show down/
u better slow down think for a minute u wasting time in this land/
u can try to get up the mountain go a head climb but u wont stand/