I heard ya style & I read the text figure
you ain't TOS you a POS nigga
I possess a beat unleashin til each done
ya beats get repossessed...you can't keep one
you can't compete son ya weak no one here gets ya
stylis gay like Hollywood hairdressers
you can't compare you impaired it's all envy
couldn't keep a track on beat if you were John Henry
it's all ending stop it ya lost there'll be no porfit at all
how you T.O.? Every spin you make you droppin the ball
ya site is dead....I don't mean no one's on it
I mean the shits gone...you can't afford it?
this nigga is broke i can't hope to help dog
couldn't manage a buck at a fuckin Elk Lodge
are you that bad wit money? you must be moochin
couldn't keep a dime wit handcuffs & Gucci
the joke of New York they all cackle at tracks heard
even them two towers collapsed in laughter
perhaps you lack skill, plus you lack dough advice? You should stop
ain't had a lacker this strong since high school woodshop
u borin & wack I'll leave this kid on the floor on a track
I won't just put the TOS down I'll end the war in Iraq
I shatter cats dreams so it seems this man is wack
he couldn't get his visions to bump wit cattaracts
another no-show? God dammit! I'd hoped to whore you
how we supposed to war? This mic battle lack TOS like Ultra-Oral
