blah


you motherfuckers think your slick,cause you can spit
when so can your girlfriends after she sucks my dick
theres no comparing me to you,its irrelevent
spitting over beats for money,to hell with it
Im raw with the chrome
whethers is mic or loaded,Im spraying to your dome
so watch out
cause on the mic I catch bodies
I exchange styles like armani
fuck around have the trey pound,show you my hobbies
leaking pints of blood like a woman in labour
I just birth your style,you own me a favor
fuck it keep it to yourself like masterbation
you wouldnt be hot unless you were actually satan
get it,I think not,my punchline are confusing
I could write your rhymes,and I still wouldnt be losing
bitch
get a new day job,cause rhyming aint your thing
the only fans you got,speaking the same language as Yao Ming
sold more records than me,its probably true
cause Im in the streets like the white and blue
still ballin,still living with my mom,but shots callin
Id only bump your shyt,if you tape it to spalding
hurt your feelings much,cause Im not far from the truth
sold more hard rock,then the batting average of Babe Ruth
now you motherfuckers recognize the skills I hold
cause Im ahead of my time,and this shyt,is already old