You sitting in the café, sipping on your latte (Drink)
Dropped the shit an burnt your self,
My shit got sold out, your still on the shelves,
I’m sure these people bound to agree, you ain’t no emcee,
Metaphorically speakin, you’re low key like a rat squeakin,
Your what we call status-seeking, get your ass popped, your flow is leakin,
Its typical you in frontlines with three wins beside your name,
But I’ll send you back to bitch slapped, docmeth here to “PRO”claim,
Demolishing fame, it just ain’t the same, with out the fiend to bring upon shame,
Acting as a crew brings hope to your surname, your like president bush,
Looking for a butch to bring padding to your push,
Getting hit by all these guys so hard you tried to push back but only got hemorrhoids,
Lyrically destroyed, thinking this a sport you tried to use steroids,
Trying to psychoanalyze emcees like you Sigmund froid,
Doc the chemist mixing up lyrics to give you a original high,
Feeding you rhymes outta my own supply,
You couldn’t go off with a bang if it were the forth-of July,
Trying to be the illest, asked to get put down as if it were a request,
This ain’t readers digest, new york time dissed on you, you got “DE”pressed

you lack flow...

some lines didnt even ryhme....

you definately need to elevate

Flow was off, try adding multi's / unternals/externalk rhyming, get more imagery and wordplay in the verse. .