Got a mind thats distructive just plane crazy
Nobody on this earth can even try to fade me
Spit with agression spit with fire
Kill rv bitches until they all decide to retire
You've got to be kiddin me thinkin ur winnin me
with your lacking of skills and you cannot rap clevery
my sick minds like weapondey that clowns down an enemy
sick thoughts that will make ur ass old and turn seventy
Ive got the gift my rhymes leave ya dead and split
Don't think your better cuz I know your rhymes are bit
my lyrics up lift theres something about ur spit I don't like
so I might have 2 jump on you stabb you with a spike
Smack ya face up so blood sticks around you
Crack your ribs laugh and tell you I clowned you

o yea word to your mothers.

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