Bg smoke who the fuk are you stepping to me with thiz bullshytt?/
You're pubez infested and infected with wack spitz... like your lipz connected with your own dick/
I'll force your vertabraez to collide...till the point where your fistz contact your facial side/
Slapping your self silly for stepping to my kind/
Sure we both homo'z, but your sexual and I'm sapien/
You're the dildo, strappin your self to the waistlinez of retarded lesbianz/
Dick inhaler,your fukin life needz abbreviating... what'z it to me? I’m so ill...I’m nauseating/
I’ll flirt with you, cause you'z a gangzta bytch in disguised/
Look into your eyez...slip my hand between you thighz... there aint no compromize/
So stand back...my amped rapz are like Amtrak explosion with loadz of anthrax/
I took you from the apex of life...now you have to ask the hourglazz for your grain of sand back/
Now get the fuk outta my way before I give you a smak...or rap a fukin iron bat around your back/
I'll give your bytch ass worze whiplash... than if you whip crashed into a ditch at a hundred clickz flat...dicksmack/
Your pre-pubescent, themz be gay that your firein... and don’t talk to me about action, I peep the diaper that your wearin/
You aint even got hair round your pussy you fuckin virgin/ (awwwww!)
Your like Brittany Spearz and you come about az hard...I’ll lay you down like syndrome, you fuckin retard/
Honestly thiz shytt is boring...I'd tell you to put your money where your mouth is but all I'd get is rich foreskin/
My fist to headz is like brickz to porcelain...your skull split when mixed with the
force of it/
Grip your misproportioned lipz and rip the source of spitz...so you drip...torsionlezz/
If I bring the hordez in thiz...your whole gangster click... get kicked till your organz stick to your distorted ribz/
Thiz war is based upon unequality...we aint the same, I'm real and your a fake MC/
You couldnt "outvoice" me textually...cause I'm a "decade" above your delivery/
Cause never in a millenium could your fistz be cylinder blockz striking thiz concrete/
Even if you came with "ten mics" and an 'amplifier" gripped in teeth/
I've risen amongst the fourteen hornz...from the deepest rootz of the revelationz
I was born/
Demonic weltingz and battle sworn...you couldn't be more divine even if your dome rocked a crown of thornz/
Son, thiz game is over... cause your herb ass haz juz been "killed"
Synoptik!!!
