Oh look another little kid sitting in his room
Writing about things he's never gunna do
Your personna is cheap like the paint on your face
You're as soft as Jack McFarland from Will and Grace
You've got no flow, your style is a no show
I'm not gunna dance around it your rhymes ****ing blow
I come from the slums meth lab in my basement
Lyrically I knock your face into the ****ing pavement
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