Here's my shit...
@ Sam Savage...
Yo rhymes ain't savage, leave ya body rancid from my sicc lyrical tactics //
And yo mind frame damaged, I'm one of the siccest emcees on this planet //
You'll learn first hand kid, challengin' me to a battle //
I'm quicc to smash you, leave you and ya whole crew thrashed too //
Street Souljas will jacc fools, snatch they reputation and they pride //
I've seen you try, you couldn't spit nothin' tight to save your pathetic life //
So kicc roccs when a Street Soulja pop up, this verse will hitcha chest so hard it'll be lungs and blood you cough up //
Keep the wacc shit locced up, that means you won't be able to respond son //
I'm on one, You're negative two, when I spit you're quakin' like I put a tech to you //
Wrecc a dude named Sam, then destroy the reamining bitches in this Point Blank crew //
I have the power to employ you, then devour you and yo homeboys too //
Leavin' no exceptions, won't stop goin' off til all Point Blank members are left decrepid //
Their whole crew gettin' wreced in less than 10 seconds, but I took time on this verse to destroy Sam with pefection //
@ WcMalice...
Verse 2...leave Malice in a hearse too //
I thought Sam was wacc, then I peeped Malic's shit, damn man you worse dude //
Keep battlin' and you'll leave this earth soon, courtesy of Sicc Wit It //
Yo rhymes are in-sufficient, I'm a lyrical villain and you ain't nothin' but a juvenile delinquent //
Ya need to quit shit, my heat'll singe the hairs on the top of ya dome //
I ain't neva scared so I'ma crush yo bones, take as much time as you want and only respond when ya full-grown //
My first objective was takin' the Siccness throne, next up, riddin' the board of gays like you //
Biggs set shit up, so now it's time to make my move, stain you dudes //
Can you believe this fool? Think he's sicc just cuz he got luccy against Tragic //
Blast shit when I'm rappin', leave this nigga Malice in a blue casket //
Spit smoke to leave Malice choked, rip his body to pieces and leave his insides exposed //
And like an oxy-moron, I'll spit flames to leave Malice and the whole Point Blake cold //
@ X-Kalibur...
I shouldnt even spit any more verses, this dude X is worthless //
Wastin' my breathe on this cat, a verse from me he ain't deserved it //
Make sure a victory for SS is a sure thing, with the wicced rhymes I deplore //
Rippin' wacc crews galore, only thing left of Point Blank will be a pile of blood and gore //
Your wacc styles I abhor, X-Kalibur is livin' nothin' but a fantasy //
His very existence is a travesty, spit enough heat to make this dude a rap casualty //
No remorse for this tragedy, I'm a blessing in disguise //
Sent to wipe out you wacc guys, I'll admit, X is jsut aight //
But tight lyric-wise, success is way far from yo sight //
That goes for ya whole crew, Point Blank is stucc in the mud, Siccness Street Souljas is on the rise //
I'ma get rough with crews, tough with dudes to give us our first official W //
After we done with you, next crew step up will be experiencing trouble too //
You need to bow down to me, I'm the next step in lyrical evolution //
Point Blank defeatin' us would be a bigger upset than the U.S. winnin the Revolution //
Here's the final solution, embarass you so bad you're crew will be no more //
You can forget about X respondin', cuz this verse left his spirit so sore //
4 quicc bars at all y'all...
With ease combined with siccness, erase ya whole crew's existence //
I'm THE siccest lyricst, y'all just witnesses to my supremacy //
Infect y'all with lyrical leprocy, got y'all nervoulsy shakin' like you had epilepsy //
Now I'ma step aside and let my teammates engrave your tombstone with "rest in peace" //