Say my bars are short, but I'm cypherin shit...
Top of my head, so I jus give you a lil bit...
I'm fit to throw punches, in every direction...
But to me it seems that all ya bars lack direction...
Research all you want cos flows, I got thousands...
Call me small all you want cos I stand out in rooms that are crowded...
Your bars are shrouded, with nothin but dilusion...
Like Phil Collins, your from a land of confusion...
My bars, I mis-use em, I got enough to blow on cyphers...
Your flows need improvement, best hurry up an grow out ya dipers...
Cos nobody likes ya, chattin shit like waste emcees...
compared to me,you jus a goldfish, consumed by the sea...
Overwhelmed by a tonne of rappers better than you...
I take pride in flickin pieces of shit like you off the tips of my shoes...