Alright, I was drunk last night when I wrote those last 3-4; I still think they’re good, just a little crazy. But I’m gonna’ bring it for real now.

Yo…

Ugh…

Check it…

Underground demon, I’m scheming with feeling

No stealing, it’s the real thing, put your hands to the ceiling

I flame the fire that keeps the coals brighter

Hot like a toaster, CJ you cold turkey, I roast ya

Fail, I don’t mean to boast man, but I’m the host man

You gets blasted like Zorak And I’m Space Ghost man

Fail thinks he can rap — he’s got a distorted view

Those rhymes sound like crap — yo momma shoulda’ aborted you

It’s ok though, cuz I was almost Xylon’s daddy

‘Cept I didn’t want VD — I just paid her $5 for a handy

And it’s apparent from my view that she still dresses you

Your clothes look ridiculous — and that parts the best of you

You spit like Hanibal Lector covered in a face mask protector

You get shut down, drowned out, rejected

Cuz you ain’t hip hop, you flow like a leaky faucet going drip drop

I’m tip top, you a rip off, you’re all soft, step off before I get ****ed off