I’m a lyrical assassin, more deadly than cancer
Your rhymes weak like Christmas jingles, you the reindeer Prancer
Dancing around my thread like you carry some real vocal weight
You can spit 7 of your best rhymes, and you’ll still get 8
By the microphone menace, you need some vocab. spinach
I Pop Eyes from my combatants, cause yall don’t got no vision
Sissified gangsta you play fight with candy canes
I spit teflon slugs to infiltrate your brain
That sizzle your cerebellum, homey I blow your mind
You a paper plane, I’m NASA, dummy you too far behind
This battle is for the intelligent, I’m a hip hop sage
No direction, you just a Land Rover, I stay out of your Range
You spare change, left on a nasty seat of an MTA bus
With no skills to pay the bills, homey you couldn’t buy dust
You need a tourniquet to stop the bleedin from when you battle Shakeet
I go overkill with my rhymes, my words slicker than sleet
Concede defeat or keep getting slaughtered it don’t matter to me
I Cross you Over harder than Iverson or EPMD
So what you sayin? You really think you that can spit on my level?
Homey please, I’m 808 bass, you just pre-school treble