Face full of stitches...
Assassin artifacts? Whut? come visit the temple of doom bitch
Temting my moves snitch, blizz be veting sentences sick
Mention my name in a rhyme? Son you must be speaking stupid
Cuz the only love you’ll get will be from the feces of cupid
Reaching my movement? Speaking bout dimensions n shit
I’ll grant you pension you dick, sensless spit fencing my hits
Your utter knowledge will get abolished and torn to peices
Cuz the only language you possess is formed from thesis
Greetings bitch, slut or fucking clone of the past days
Rambling about Wu and shit while I’m destroying like masta ace
But you just had to get defaced, spitted against and destroyed
Face it bitch you’re not great, you’re simple n weak decoy
Toy’s like you get fucked up like grown up play things
Whoa seems to be my zone and you’re hating with some fake bling
be aware cuz around these parts I’m is the only one gem dropping
writing rhyme’s way over your head until my pen’s stopping...
"I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones."
---Albert Einstein
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