your rules, you know em'
10-20 lines
I'll spit first....

Aight check...
My words are worse than half an eighth of cain in the streets/
I'll go to church and battle Mase on Easter Sunday where he subject to preach/
I'll stick a decaphiter in ya pants and jam the tube inside ya abs/
through a capilary artery and watch the cum spew out ya ass/
if you aint ready dawg the fee fifths dropin ya/
make ya handicapped like the dude with the chicken wing arm from Three 6 Mafia/
yeah Im a bit off and my words are nasty/
like convolescence work so much my voice is raspy/
you aint even on my level Im bout to blast off/
you on board A-1 Im gettin ready to defeat the last boss/
sick syphillis spit enough to french kiss ya bitch/
send her home and show you how ill this shit can get/
you wouldnt wanna battle, so fuck you and fuck him/
the 9 a spill ya shit, now we can see just how young ya blood is/