Or is it?...
Illiterate fuck, can't even spell my name right,
You and I are on different pedistals, but don't blame height,
From a sperm cell, until your faggot ass burns in hell,
I'm sure of one thing, you aint ever learn to spell,
All the quotes in your stupid drops, its hard to decern it well,
I'll torch you, like a dollar on fire, and burn you to crisp,
Punch your front teeth out, then try to discern yer lisp,
I thought you were mad at cocaine, cause of your weak punchlines,
I took the words out your mouth, food for thought, your lunch's mine,
Your like the core of an apple, like pussy, eat you out,
Your throne is mine, your like my waitor, you'll seat me now,
Your only Godlike when you clean my toes, wash my feet now,
Push you down, so you aint able to crawl,
Have one foot on your chest, yet I'm too stable to fall,
Push your self destruct button on your bell,
Let me give your naval a call,
Your weak punches, for a while, have been going downhill,
Your Jack, came tumblin after, and you just found Jill,
You want a ring, but this is the first round still,
You'll get beat, being confident thinkin your sounds ill,