Stop coming at us Rage, you couldn’t win in your wildest dreams
Attacking a General is suicide, ammunition at this childish scene
Call me Zack de la Rocha, ‘cause you’ll witness Rage against a machine
Wolverine style, I slice you up ‘cause I’m dope like crack rocks
And I’ll crack CrackRockz, put his back in a backpack, locked
Leave him shocked, back to back with bags filled with mad tox
‘cause J couldn’t be a dope writer on the internet if he teamed up with Maddox
You be home putting on your female wig like a stale pig
Running around the block talking ‘bout touching green on some Shego shit
Bitch alter ego, guess that scene describes why you’re on an ego trip
Feeble bitch, you couldn’t spit the bare truth on a streaker fest
I’m not God on Sunday, but I’ll end it and give you weak some rest