damn i jus wanted to battle ya coz i needed target-practice/
fuck looks like u cant offer shit against against my hard-earned-tactics/
illprophecy , da moment i started on this ryme i prophecized-yo-death/
damn my lines will leave ya lyrically castrasized-with-no-breath/
shit da rest of Melanin murderin some devious-motherfuckers/
i jus took time off to kill ya with some lines that are serious-rippers/
damn i'm spittin shit equivalent to gza on duel-of-the-iron-mic/
each of my words jus blazing as i begin to fuel-this-fire-strike
DS wishes his opponent learns something outta this battle so he decides to switch to a different style
fuck they say stay-humble, but look at ya i dont need to pray-to-see-ya-stumble/
your own lines you try-to-unjumble, "this is gonna be easy" I sigh-n-mumble
i'll take ya back-to-the-basics, coz i see you still attack-with-hay sticks/
you're tryin to unleash a bag-of-tricks, i spit shit hard that'll be like i gag-ya-with-bricks/
I relieved ya of all this ryming-stress, so i killed ya and your blood started diffusin-to-DS/
no one left to clean up yo decomposed-mess, others stand in awe at my lines i composed-with-finesse/