checcin in
fucc it here goes
Not a semi-automatic but i put you out on blast
Like the Mets lose at Shea your rhymes leavin you in Last
My arsenal is set to shoot you down inside of 16 lines
Your retaliation just makes shit worse I've told you many times
I'll see you at the shooting range with holes all thru your chest
Your blood pours out, your body torn because you ca'nt digest
The lyrics that i'm feedin you while you sit with a blank stare
My words speak volumes in this game, your words cannot compare
Not here, not now, not anytime could you get what i've obtained
I'll leave you pissin your pants so scared yo draws already shit stained
Verbally dissectin you so i needs no knife to cut you
Yo bitch can see this plain as day & says it as i'm dumpin you
On yo bacc, face the facts, this battle you cannot win
Peep the stats, your shit is wacc, i'll inform your next of kin
Mr. Last, his time has passed, if it was ever his at all
The plot was hatched, he met his match, closed casket cuz he ai'nt come raw