Your vocabulary's a joke. You're a fucking bloke. And I really hope you end up having a stroke. My rhymes hooked me up with an exotic dancer, but yours will just end up giving me cancer. I'll maul you like a bull and sell your damned soul. I'm a rap fiend, spitting rhymes faster than your time in bed. And by the time we're done, you'll probably end up dead. Sit down son, for real. You're done, and this battle is such a steal.


Meow. :3