I'm seeing is you write with no meaning, retreat please,
Ya girl, nothing quite finer than when I-line-her, Mac without PC beef,
Will be no treaty, you duckin' and I've got all you running,
Get brain like Einstein, more head than octomom stomach,
Your talent I damage and savage. Hope all ya fans joking,
Yo' man's choking, read between the lines when my hand opens,
Barely a wise enemy, can't even keep ya name in my memory,
And at your own concert, my CD will be the fine centerpiece,
May hurt, cause a stained shirt when I'm whacking all the haters,
I've got bullets in the chambers, but not the basketball player,
And at the mainframe of mainstream I got a straight aim,
Yeah bro, you getting up there...It's called weight gain, haha
Your lines suck trying to rhyme tough and your flows rough,
No joke you homo, the only coke you affording is the soda,
You try to bite, can't write, well you do seem like the Stan type,
Think I'm scared of you 'cause you a member of a Shady fansite?
Alright hold up, for that to be a rap I'd need you to rhyme,
You can write right after me, but I'll still leave you behind.