My grammatical tactical battle stats aren't practical when I battle you
I'm the radical savage you'd look up to if I hadn't taken my sabbatical
I bring a vatical syntax, so you don't have a clue with your bitch ass
You're getting verbally bitch slapped, kid, this match, is a miss match
Lee couldn't flow with those wrists slashed, so get off of my dick, fag
Homie even your chick laughed when you tried to battle with this cat
It's fact, ya followed me around talking shit, just to get clowned, boy
You and your little sister... What's her name again? Got it, Brown Boy
You were bound to get found boys, all goin' in the closet then lock it
Then the way that one of ya's walkin' funny, and everyone mocks it
Quit runnin' your cockpit, before bruises appear on your eye sockets
Act obnoxious and get stomped bitch, & then I empty those pockets
Y'all know I just rocked this, but ride Lee's dick, & remain Lee's bitch
This Lee bitch's emotions are over flowin' now, this kid got sea sick
Stop talkin' bout' me bitch, The Anti-Vidual killed you, left no traces
You really think you're a rapper, but play small role like Warwick Davis