The lyrical rhyme phenom- you can figure eight your life eight times, my styles be-yond OJ's glove on Savion Tap-Dancing your death cobra-clutching ya layrnx snatching ya breath Your style's feminine like Trina's ankle bracelet I spit bionically legs and hip bone replacement your metaphor's complacent they need remixing, re-writing and rearrangement every day it's the same shyt. "I can slaughter Anthol, He should stick to Slams" Danj, ya like cook up- you're only worth it in grams Don't need no papragraphs to pose the threat to ya life 8 bars, Putty-Cat stars, you're falling tonight