workin on punch lines, critics?

My rhymes will drop you to your knees
like a fat bitch with weak cankles,
while you catchin your breath,
is when i bring lyrical death.
my rap bringin disease,
thatll spread faster than SARS in china,
talkin bout how u gunna fuck me up,
bitch you got a vagina!
with ur basketball jersey boy u think ur a balla,
only way ull get a shot is to pay a docta a dolla,
ill have u eatin my words like a fat man at a buffet,
pimp slappin you bar for bar without delay,
now ur startin to choke im puttin strain on your windpipe,
playas round here would think ur deep throatin mike,
(mike who? MIKE DICK)
i know that the only stickey you smokin is in a meat cigar,
your raps filled with more drama than an opera star!