Ya ass kickin's evident as cheech & chong, advertised ganja/
Only thing you'll do before ya perish, better rap in christ honor/
Braggin-cash? He lacks-to-have exact change for the biscuit/
So he pleads his word door-to-door, like jehovah's witness/
Ya mamacita's lips guided, to deliver my head shots-this-tour/
Madly pissed but silent, this spic with attitudes popped-by-four/
Injured beyond healing, like his pickups, they're not insured/
Meaningless in your life, I figure, why hold this hostage-for/
His debates more petty than greg gumbel-bob costas-wars/
No wesley snipes involved, when these blades shank-you-too/
Mixing religion with mics, stealin more than kirk franklin-do/
Fuckin-disgrace, cock back the hammers to, bust-in-ya-face/
The best surgeons wouldn't get the motherfucker-replaced/
To push-a-T with malice, becomes his idea to own-just-clips/
Just callin him rex-less, cause his flows never cold-blooded/