you could be 18 and still only 3 as an MC,
your still alittle kid who wakes up in your pee,
cuz you woke from a nightmare that i induced,
holding you on a leash thats really a noose,
pulling and pulling making your throat close on its self,
just cuz you had to go and say some weak shit bad for your health,
you choke on your words as i command you to recite them back,
then stick my my hand into your chest to cause a heart attack,
your ryhms and style are weak atleast compared to me,
you should go back home in the suburbs and pretend to be G,
gang bang and fly colors till you die in a conflict,
i know you will cuz you just did in this lyrical shit,
you wanna see whut i can do on a battle field,
im the one they call death and ill make you a deal,
you stop and get off or my sword will be your next meal,
you lose that rue but thats how it goes,
why don't you come back, that is if ya learn how to flow.