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Motherfucking shit son
hope you have your dunce cap on
your rhymes scheme's non-stick
like a well made Calphalon
The Southern hemisphere
got your mindway unclear
forgetting your defeat
in rap battles yesteryear
crawling back home
you took my word skilz to the dome
got zooted, convoluted
by the shine from my verbal chrome
now you self-flagellate
a rap battle ingrate
sit back and col'-chill
while I re-iterate
My word flow's extreme
but like the Aussie monotreme
you lay big fat eggs
when you try to scheme
so take cares of your baby
and through my graces just maybe
I won't inform him on his birthday
that his daddy's ryhmes are lazy
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