you're style is generic,
mine's authentic made.
i roll like a renegade,
you need clinic aid.
my technique is bazzare and ill,
i scar and k**,
you were a star until i served you like a bar and grille.
'cause i proceed to grill ya,
thats all it took to k** ya,
you better recognize me like i look familiar.
you wanna battle?
you'll beat around the bush,
like you're scared to lick p**y so you eat around the tush.
i need someone to push, someone i can bully,
wait a minute, i don't think you understand fully.
ya see, me without a style is like mustard without the heinz,
i lead the new school, you're a Busta without the Rhymes,
i'll bust the sh** out your lines.