ight ill battle you

I'll slash-ur-knees, mutilate ur back-n-spleen, to leave u lookin' like sum1 managed to hack-ur-genes
Ur rhymes couldn't shine, even if u waxed-them-clean, u couldn't hit if i gave u a bat and let u whack-extreme
Call me raps cairopracter, when i make ur back-look-lean, crossdressing earned u the right 2 where a sash-4-queen
U couldn't be ill, even if u had aids then bashed-ur-meat, if u rapped visuals ur rhymes wud luk like plaque attacking-teeth
I'll silence ur words, like sum1 cracked-ur-speech, so even competing with helen keller wud be a master-feat
Ur verse is so wack, that it's requested-slaps, the only way u'd ever @#%$ me up is if u molested-rap
U couldn't bring illness, if ur rhyme had infected-rats, lets see how u hold a mic with ur arms-twisted-back.

peace