Listen fam, Tyrant hot like cajun spices, even your girl gonna say I'm nicest. So when you step up, you better bring a tight diss or my knockout punch-lines gonna leave you lifeless.
I'm bringin game from the floor to the boards. Your game's so weak you couldn't score with a whore. You better recognize and quit explorin for war because I'm rockin more rows than slave-ship niggas with ores.
I'm a class act, you're a jack ass. I'll drop a fast fact. Pussy, You are past wack. I'ma get the last laugh on your staff, black. Try and blast back and the flags at your school gonna be half-mast.
You're NOT hot, son, even if you heard that you are. I don't got guns but I'm murderin stars. so, next time I'll bring 2 four-fours... I'm not talkin stainless, you brainless anus I'm about hardcore metaphores in 32 bars.
11/14/2006 3:26:15 PM
