Well, you stepped up, Cheins. I’ll at least give you that.

But now you’ve opened my cage, and I’m going to fire right back.

Just like that fabulous person Chawin, your material’s old.

My rhymes are shining like a diamond while you’re busy mining coal.

I’m gonna shine my shoes, ‘til they glisten like the Sun.

So I’ll look extra shnazzy while I’m stomping on your cranium.

Did you honestly think your grade-school prose would hold fast

Against the lyrical maelstrom I’m directing at your punk bum?

You’re a no-good turncoating son of a whore.

And normally I wouldn’t bother ‘cuz your posts are a bore.

But you’re picking on Steve because he’s caught on his rear.

So I’m here to put the fear into your fabulous person ears.

My role in this circus has me leaping around,

‘Cuz I’m a fire-breathing acrobat, and you’re just a clown.

So take all your little cousins that you smuggled here from afar,

And act like the Mexicans you are, and cram back into your little car.