The Outbreak

your rhymes are pre written

my rhymes are free spitting

ripping into the mic feel the hype

take the microphone cable put it around your neck and pull it tight

the devils right your soul belongs to me tonight

so what if your high tech i leave 10 inch daggers in your chest

dig a whole for your body and make my dog burry the rest

so if you got some beef to spit then say it don't write it

in this battle you will never win i'll fight it,  i'm in control u can't break the mold

your a basket case make you get plastic surgey you will still lose this race

i'm brining it down to the lower level so u can undertand my lyrics cuz ur

a new fellow in the rap game that shit is lame, the only thing your popular in life

is getting an std from your own wife

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