Ya lackin-to-hit-me as I'm attackin-ya-swiftly so this win, I been packin-it-with-me Leavin ya lifeless, start fuckin wit me.. and find a 'new-crisis' like we're back in the fifties!
I kid ya not just quit n stop, or I ain't talkin 'parted hair' but I'll split-ya-top And ya know-ya-fucked-dude, cuz I'll swing 'n 'SODA-struck-you', cuz my punches hittin-POP! (so destruct / hit 'n pop)
Takin ya out-fast, on the mic ya like an outcast cuz we ain't feelin-ya-presence Tryin to act-rough, but only time he 'wraps-stuff' is dealin-with-presents! (raps tough)
Talk like ya use-a-gat but like 'clothes on women I date' I'll make ya lose-your-strap And it's kinda funny ya from Queens.. cuz I always NEW-YORK-RAP! (knew you're crap)
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