rules
unlimited bars
no crew/hate votes



let's make this Fast~And~Painless, im Matched~With~Greatness, verbal Assassinaton/

told you ya wasnt Half~As~Flagrant, but you're 'hard headed' lets see if Stratagies skull will Crack~The~Pavement!/

who Gassed~This~Lame~Bitch? Wack~And~Brainless, RaY-B Packs~Insane~Clips to Attack~Your~Maintenance/

make this Faggot~Famous, RaY-Bs Back~To~Wreck~House, and I only shoot 16's cause after I spit em my Gat~Feels~Left~Out!/

Strategy Slap~The~Deck~Now cause when I Clap~The~Tech~BLAOW!/

fuck Fighting~With~honor, I'd rather Slice~You~And~Conquer, hand you your ass, thats all this Titan~Can~Offer/

you seen me Gunnin~Down~The~Best, fuccin 'twist your body', so now your spines Runnin~Down~Your~Chest!/

fuck it Son~I'll~Pound~The~Ref! Loading~The~Clips RaY-B's simply Colder~With~Spits/

dont Strategizes about Molding~A~Diss, when your still a newbie and been spittin last since October~You~Bitch!/

Tighten~Up cause I'll Slice~And~Cut through your Nicest~Stuff when the mic Device~Is~Clutched/

Bitch.....the Heist~Is~Up, even if i Didnt~Spark~Shit I'd still Win~Regardless/

RaY-Bs Spittin~The~Hardest, keep this strategy's 'dead body', now it's no 'secret' RaY-Bs got 'Skeletons In~The~Closet!'/

face it people, im Better~Than~This~Foe, bring anybody with you kid i'll Sever~them~Bro/

Lead~In~Your~Throat Wherever~You~Go, battling wack cats, you aint proving shit with that 40~TkoZ/

RaY-Bs Ready~To~Blow, type to make your Deadliest~Flow look like Confetti~To~Throw/

im Tired~Of~This, clappin-rounds, who gassed-this-clown, have his jaw Wired~And~Split/

Supplying~The~Spits, and Strategically take your 'asshole off the market', nobodies Buying~Your~Shit!/

Gills can't breathe he's~fuckin~chokin, must~be~jokin sideswipe your brain and leave your head split~open/

Check IN Your rap got weak at the end....


Ray-B always happy that he always go second/
so he can figure out what i said and how it messin'/
his chance for victory relies on retaliation/
that falls as desperate lies, my rhymes are his fixation/
tryin' be fancy, did you think that hurt/
i-ran-that-story-shit since i went hyper verse-for-verse/
and-for-the-glory-hit i'ma analyze-a-while/
and how you butcher words, bitch, vandalize-ya-style/
picture Ray B sittin' with the thread at page seven/
why this nigga so eager for me to drop him into heaven/
palms sweaty on the keyboard, eyes screen-a-whim/
thread count 2000 plus, bet half was seen-by-him/
not my fault his first-re-sponse didn't mean-a-thing/
lil' verse-de-haunts, it fade like mini-etch-a-sketch key-rings/
his lines were shook-ones, a nice diss he had-none/
since "anyone wanna battle" it's like i had him in block-stun/
and let me predict how his last and final goes/
he'll pick apart my verse and think that's original/
the fact is he couldn't come at me any different/
each scheme is busted chest, pavement, what's the difference/
rookies i'd expect it, but Ray-B, what's with you/
its like ya style ain't graduate, always fails grade two/
and don't tell me more lies like how don't fix it if it's broken/
that complacent shit could have ya emcee card revoken/
penalties while you type, lack-face with hinder-in/
but i know ya have trouble, back-space on ya fingerprints/ 1

Young g.

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