Hot keystyle Yeah, this goes out to a swagger jacker, he know who he is..And quit sayin that you´re not bitin my style, every other word I use or say,you try to run with.You´re clippin my expressions and everythang. You ain´t got shit to write about,so you´re bitin my ideas n´ concepts too. And then you try to put it together in a littlewack ass, style stealin , lame ass, carbon copy cat medley!And you´re even trying hard too. But since you ain´t up on the languageyer drops be all lame and goofy!You garb. Gectha OWN skills up. And quit jackin my style.I tell you what it is dawg.I HAD to vent that. Dope skills? Naah! YOU don´t represent that!I DO, N´ I DID! You CAN´T do what I did!You ain´t spittin yet, you droolin, sumbody give ´im a bib!!Talkin out yer pockets,This dude got tha WRONG approach!Ayo! Real quick, let me flick this here roach!Between you and me, this herbs´s BEEN smoked!I done toked, he done choked,n´ tried to get me provoked.Tried to pull some cowboy shit.But kid, this ain´t "Gun smoke"!Like I said, I don´t even go for that oki-doke!You ain´t "wheezy" nigu! You got slammed!-And now yer phuccin lungs broke!I blaze that prestine,that´s moe crispy than cream!N´dip ya set in chlorine,cuz my lean SO clean!My brocc green.Kinda like the mystery machine!N´shit I´ll put you on ya lean.Deeper tha a bear coma!Prescription diction,I get you faded, with, or without glaucoma!I´m Undeground like a gopher,got beef like Stofers!I got them, next level kicks.But ya´ll still wearin loafers!(Switch up. Gettin my second wind..)See I´m the type that, spark up the conversation with a tazer!I convince,when "mince my words", carvin the alphabet witta razor!I see ya stuntin,but it ain´t on sum treal shit.You gettin me?Dollars is REAL!N´ you ain´t speakin realistically!And stay the,fukk out my guestbook, bitch!Quit sweatin me!Maan, I got too much invested.Ain´t no doubt you gettin bested.For tryina,go against tha kid,that got spits nastyer than Fear-factor-CONTESTANTS!And you wanna battle me?? You´re a phuccen Stan!You shoulda stayed in ya mom´s basement!You shoulda stayed a fan!Now you´re all pumped up, hyped up, by yer little clan.I got them NUMBER COMBOS!And you THINK that you can play me fam??!See, you done fukked up now punk!N´ ya li´l homies can´t protect ya!Try to front on mine, n´ get exposed to, a punchline-lecture!(closer)My weaponry is ILL, like an Underworld upgrade!And you wanna go AGAINST ME??!With batons n´ DUCT TAPE???! (Naaah! BITCH! You gotta come harder than that.) LMAO!! HOLLA