Lyrics
my fist storms and you under the weather,
punches wit pleasure, hittin the Clutch like its under some pressure,
time to battle and you run it never,
victorious ill e-merge like two internet sites coming together,
no one has done it better, friend or foe,
I pull out all the Stops like an endless road,
claim you got fans, Ak got twice as much,
when Jeff Gordon wouldnt even ride this clutch
and this vendetta will determine whos murkin when I spat it
his verse I dont need clutch my car is automatic,
the fact you in this round gets me much bitter,
I dont play baseball still considered a clutch hitter,
fuck litter get thrown in a can and dumped too,
and cant keep up like imma take it from you,
so run to, your crew if they stick by you,
puberty runs, it dont wanna get hit by you,
I got personals fuck gettin hurt a lil bit,
with metas that are brand new like ya birth certificate,
im significant, you aint shit I wont face
ya voice cuz its so high pitched... imma walk to first base
I mean it, 50 bucks imma take fast, you take last,
cuz when you open ya mouth you break glass,
and you lying on the floor on ya back,
I kick ass and take names but not yours cuz its wack,
if Clutch thinks he got a future in rap,
he needa spit out his girlfriend and stop chewin the fat,
my lines manage to mime half his,
rhymes understand it imma pain in the neck like spine damage,
im ya idol, the one you yearn to touch,
an inexperienced driver, watch as I burn the clutch,
you hurt, stuck, fuck it clutch shook now,
cuz i'll kcik him to ground and wont even put my foot down,
you gotta be the best to battle me,
so get ya priorities straight along with ya sexuality,
fuckin queer, drag you up a ladder and drop ya,
2nd round wit these young'uns. am I battling toddlers?
this aint a daycare, this boys wack,
oh yeah, MC Squared called, he wants his voice back,
let ya voice crack when the heat blaze,
with how many times I put em down youd think its a street race...
