I'm skeetin hard in your whip, my peter parked in your bitch
My teeth are sharpened to rip, flesh apart when I spit
Slashing targets to bits, last samurai in this bitch
Please try to convince, these people that I am the shit
Your style's shit, so bull I could grab it by the horns
Don't keep rapping, commit suicide, don't try to conform
Evil children thrive in the corn, with knives and their swords
Reaping lives for their lord, look at the grime and the gore