MR. MARLEY SPIT:


asking me to battle is like asking to be piledriven into gravel
you just a lyrical pretenda b4 you start it be smart to surrender
my lyrical rhymes go threw ya skin, like now when im intoxicated with gin/
its gonna go threw as if it were a pin, as sharp as it gets/
as soon as it fills your whole body imma stuff you like a taxadermest/
you rhymen cuz you think you blacker then the rest, you far from the best/
i could sink to lines to ya chest, and you be done in this battle/
no get down from your hi horse sattle, you gonna be the next victom i put over my fire mantle/
no you just think for a minute, now you realize this nbattle, you could never win it/


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Black child