insert a dagger into ya chest and start splinterin ya team
wit ur rhymes all blurry...got us all squinting at screens
i'll start printin ya spleen after i rip ya organs 'n letters wit the breeze
'n if that guy imported ya style..then that shit better have been free
you the small fish here,and i'm still able to start rippin ya big
'n cripple ya sigs...shit...you got a man puckerin his lips in ya sig.

This Intro sticks to the walls, I write in blood thats thick...
I'll crush his dick and his balls when I get to 65th bricks....
All up in his defense, Im quarterbacking this stint...but..
Sometimes I get Brett Farve the way I'm throwin up Ints....
How do I attract fly's, and get covered in piss did I miss???
In the talent pool, bitch, you get ate up by Guppy fish!!!!
Ohhhh.....damn...I'm twisted take this knife here an twist it...
Right in your back like sticking butter in a biscuit....proficient..
With the mic tools...I break fools like dude...yeah you....
You aint never cool...like Summer school, I cut your class...
Wipe my finger above your lip with shit to make a moustache..'
This dudes as useless as a souvineer shop momento...
Everybody skips over you, who gives a fuck about ya open mics or track Intro..?
cuz everyone see nk dumb like cailforina-bimbo's....

355 post and u ant grows none //
my flows sick homie they grows son//
light weight bitchs lu get suffed cut into to like bricks//
homies like u get fucked up in the streets just like a bitch//
im a king when it comes to punch line jokes//
somthin likecris rock on his lunch time shows//
i eat up emcees im abeast of the gutter//
fesating on blood of cypher cats muost are dead already so lifes amother fuck-a//

you might spot me on the cypher
or spot me in a battle with people i dis-like-ya
but you'll never see me bow... even with a stomuch full of pain
shot go throu ya brain,
N the sounds of the sheels hiting the floor i'll sound like rain
with tommy gun or uzi, which ever i choise see
to let off like a fat-bitch that's part of my groupie
with eyes blood-shot red like cup of red-death
and the way i spit fire is like i master the book of chief
i'll run ya pack, give me ya stacks, then im out hater
mad cuz i drop out of school when i realise trees can make paper
to 1,000 dagrees i might take-ya then turn it up a notch
and have people all around viewing... like a block-watch CHEA!!!!!

Who cares about ya block..no one living there caters-to-your-plots
How you gutter..residin at headquarters for neighborhood-watch
Within the suburbs..stab ya ribcage so deep..your lungs-punctured
Pussies oppose with riddles..this no batman or robin dumb-fucker
Once-covered in body bags...it's no change..you'll praise-the-circle
Or get ya puny brain in a glass case..like krang from ninja turtles
Riddle-me-this..why I belittle-this-snitch..put em in trunks of caravans
Cuz he love spongebob..run laps around em til this square-pants

you wack, i stack, you lack so grab my sack,.. N you insult me?
see i dont have to try to force-flow.... like all ya multy
fuck ya metaphores, shit are all weak N lame
its like u pose as a clown... cuz everyone laugh'es when i speak ya name
ya tracks.... like sleep'in on a train.... when i peep ya fame,
so even high-heels are above the peak of ya game
you'll leak like crack tubs N lines
you dudes is lyin, u'r like scoopy doo... sniff'in 4 lines
im the killah so i'll snip ya crimes
N give you a watch to rob later.... like im bring back-time
smash ya skull... N box it up like cerial
im serious-yo,
so when you go to bit... it'll be from ya-self
you beef like its good for ya health
so after this flame verse, i'll spit N put you out my-self CHEA!!!!

your ryhmes defined by your own name//
fraud get shot on my black trying to dcoded my name /
your flows is simplictly understood ta see , in ant from the streets//
so to you a couple words and a mean mug is some beef//
i run trackes around homies like dued//
this homie got fagget ryhmes dike like crew//
im tight no play write to compet with and i bet shit like anal prob in bitches//
my flow just comes to me as do the hoes to my dick and that isnt in-fitctions//
thats the truth like the holes in my bullit poff mind//
becaace already took to and motha fuck-a im still alive//

why bitch, forget it and continue to spit
cuz even the blind can see how this rap-shit gets me a grip
gets me fames.... plus a bounch of fags to rip
and this is a freestyle... imgane how my pre-written gets
this type of battle style i master-ya
cuz i'll deposit a whoop'in befor the match.... like a pre-paid-mater-card *get it*
CHEA!! lets go....

LOOK MAN,
you want my line streach or short,
im a hustler with coke, the way im strech'in-shorts
but u'll get put in a strech(er) if u short
the way im pulling ya cards, its like im streching ya short's
and i NOSE ya LINE aint CONNECT'IN... like a fin stress'in to snort
its like im in a room full of god the way i get bless'in from all sort
and it aint a GAME when i leave you with just ya ball's on the court....

CHEA LOOK MAN,
im mean when i rap, the fens get attached
the beam on relacks, sheels u can catch
bail befor i crack, u tell then u're snatch'ed
you snail's i'll get lap'ed, then nail'ed with a bat
you faile then u lack, kid-nap-ya then mail ya back
u a rob hustler that cant fill-the-block
ya flow CURRENT... but i dont FEEL A SHOCK
ahh fuck it i need to stop.......
cuz u'll be ducking low like u need a COCK....
CHEA!!! mother fucker who fuck'in with me?

so u admit u rip dueds//
fucking fraud fuckin wit a real emcee froma real crew//
get pop and locked in zip locks last site seen was my gage in your grill//
i pop more white and black people then theses mother fuckin pills //
it only takes me secounds to rekem exept the realm to be lite//
because bitches thats hoe like u are to esy to rip//
6 bars and no brows u dead kid simpley//
after leaveing holes in ur body ooff my shody now ur hole face is dimpleing//

I'll rip u to peices and kill you wit this..label u a deadned herb
cos i thought ur name was unoriginal
......until i read ya verse.......
that shit should be a curse...it's so whack,for real ...I reckon it
but hey...maybe I'll give ya respect when ya tell me what a secound is
ur verse is just plain shit...look at ur rec..u never won cus u can;ts
& u talkin about guns so much when ya missin one in ya pants

CHEA porably MEAN CAnt HANDLE earths artions kid//
i fill your eyes with dark x's not anal just like a inclips//
im a helmsman wit bricks/
tell all yawl mans that i can ship-em clips//
this is isnt a game of chest and if i was i be makein moves//
takin lifes kiiling packs and killing troops

u sound like a kid mad that his mom took away his cards to play
ur tardy today.......and game of chest?...what the fuck!?!..are you gay?
cos u appear so today....I'll unload a whole rhyme on ya shooked team
and u capatalizin some words in ya 1st line to look mean??
that's wat it seems...cos if ur rhymes sposed to be street..then u a bum wit spits
'n read ya shit again....................you still talking about guns and shit? :YAAAWWWN:

At least ya won't try dissin me, turn around & compliment like most-frauds
Still your lines not straight..they got more wrinkles than old-broads
Drown ya sorry ass so deeply, you'll alert the coast guard for assistance
Named natural killa when ya artifically harmless..why ya honestly spittin
I promise incisions like morticians..decimate the heart this trans-plants
If I battled by tradition..I couldn't determine if a bitch or man-stands
Cause he's fragile as glass sets wrapped by UPS..execute-this-pest
If royalty relies on em..it shows 'dollar sign..point seven-two' check

ur mom mad she made u..and even more so at how u wanna live it up
and it's not that i don't know wat ur sayin.............it's just I don't give a fuck
leave u sittin wit no luck...ur a garbage can for me to just fire my junk rhymes in
cuz look at ur record...do you need me to tell u where Front Lines is...?
before...I was rippin newbs..and now u come..so i guess I'm back to herbs
& just look at ur words....it's crystal clear to me......................................that ur nerd