Sean

Battle agaisnt some kid, i dont have his verse i wrecked em, his names nizzle p....... Ima rip mad heat, so hot its fryin everyone in the streets/ Im the one wit the beats, and the lyrical feat that does more than make ends meet/ I got gold benz sleet, wit crome rimz creep, on ya own ends nizzle p/ That means in ya home limmits, and im shiny like a waxed crome finish/ You act like you a known menace, but you aint even paint ya own fences/ Which says u aint neva placed a mark ya own territory/ Now shut ya mouth before you get thrown off eleven stories/ My metal buries settle homies, and it shredded ya dome peice/ Came out screamin i thawt we arranged home peace/ I said fuck that you cant claim counties/ Unles you were me, which u aint so stop tryin to clone me/ Actin straight phoney talkin bout how u gonna blow me/ Said that so soft makes u sound like a faggot/ Get off the mic and go strut in some bullshit beauty paggent/ Ive really had it, with these fake kids thinkin they split wigs/ And flip bricks and live by havin to sick pigs/ U aint do that shit, u dont run no click/ You dont know what it means to tell them niggas go n get it/ Get it? Shit i doubt yo ass cud even keep up wit it/ I been tugged twenty, blocks if u aint known/ Got off the chain, dropped six and told my dogs to go get the last bone/ And bring his ass home, so i can torture his ass til he has to pass on/ Im more ruthless than Drag-On, Ill bury u all with one frag bomb/ J hood laggin when he says hes doin 85 in the wagon/ Sounds like he saggin behind, im catchin up to the punk so i can clap em with the nine/ Whack em in the spine, cut a chunk outa his leg thats the size of a lime/ Sit down niggaz coz its my time to shine/