I’m really sorry that I’m shatterin-ya-dreams
Everybody on the site knows I’m badder-than-i-seem
So Don’t try and push-me
Cause I know you’re named after the clitoral hood, you big pussy
And how you gonna win whenever you around-me
To tell you the truth I’ve started writing for round-three
Don’t get upset
When they start calling you E-hood, cause we know you’re only gangsta on the net
I mean seriously who could ever think of dumber-rhymes
We got no need for a Hood-E, I mean.. It’s The summer-time
I’ll take this beyond a battle and come smack-you-down
It won’t take much for me to come and Track-you-down
So Don’t try and run when I start whooping your ass
Cause I’m gonna be all on E like I ran out of gas
And you’re not built for battles.. so you won’t last
And you said you got guns but you won’t blast
You not close to me lyrically
And You got no flow or delivery... come on man.. your vocals are killin me
And I’m literally killing this kid quickly
And if he even gets one vote you gotta be kiddin’ me
And I’m not trying to sound cocky
But I don’t think you’ll be the one to drop me, come on... try and stop me
You getting charged-on
You’re gonna be dead before long like a 90 year old man trying to get a hard-on
And I think it’s cute how you said you’d beat-me
But at least when you lose, you can say it was too Leezy
And Good luck getting the loot
You a silent killer cause I died laughing until I put your tracks on mute
Cause I’d never sit through your half ass mumbling
When you try to read you verse and you keep on stumbling
And there is no way that your record would go gold
Cause they only putting hood on, when their ears are cold
