Verse 1:
My rhymes are outta the park like Mcguire on ephedra
I know you wanna rap but there ain't no way in hell I'm gonna let ya
because the chrisis is, I hold the mic inside the tightest fist
now you're cryin my name all the way to your psychiatrist
even he thinks you're the nicest bitch to try and hold your own
your rap career was over before you touched a microphone
and ever since you started, i just stop listening
cause you sound more retarded than a deaf mute whistling
just cause your music aint good enough for me
doesnt mean you cant fuck dailey on mtv
or get shutdown by mp3 dot com
the only reason i like you is cause you got a hot mom
i still think you suck, knowing that she does to
good versus bad is like me versus you
Still I ask a few witness to explain what they saw
an ill as fuck cat that likes to spit raw

Chorus:
Ahead of my time, gotta flow, even though I'll be dead in my prime
Last in line, but i'll be the first to blast a rhyme
Optimus prime, out of his mind, one of a kind
but ain't nobody's rap's outlastin mine

Verse 2:
I blast hard with a verse that's stronger than teflon
say you wanna rap but better watch who's toes you step on
cause i wreck on emcees like a demolition derby
while you're battlin clouds in a dreamland like curby
but dont be upset, i know that I'm a threat
hazard to your health but aint even touched a mic yet
i'll film your death and direct like kubrick
while your girlfriend complains about your toothpick
she needs a new dick but shes a tale from the crypt
and milli vanilli luaghed when your fuckin tape skipped
i could listen to you rap but i write to change the subject
friends you're tight but never do that shit in public
cant even talk straight without gettin confused
bitch i'm the one who gave the red and white they blues
I call it wack cause it aint rap or hip hop
you couldnt even rock the house at a denny's pit stop

Verse 3:
mini thugs wanna rap but you know i dont condone it
this aint baskin robbins and you aint the flavor of the moment
just keep laughin and you'll see what'll happen
dyslexia's a problem and not a style of rappin
i'll spit nastier shit than Kodiak bear
call a bitch out at a show like I knowhe back there
and i throw out the insults but get no answer
he's already on stage as a fuckin back up dancer
I'll battle anyone who dare call themselves a pacifist
laugh and diss this passionless half-a-bitch
cock back and watch me as I crack his lip
until he's mad as this, slash his wrist and him practice it
and fuck anybody who raps just for a check to bank
like cats filled with more shit than a septic tank
when it starts to overflow, your rhymes will hit the fans
cause your parents will be the only ones sittin in the stands