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Read my diss to Eastside 313 Boy. Its nice.

I been the best, long before you knew of sess
Try to understand, nothings ever gonna be less
Nothings gonna be better, its the presentation of the letter
the leather face killer, the one thats nothing but iller
you can't touch death, it reaches out and touches you
us 3, clown you, its true when the bunches do
what they do, like bad luck in its true essence
you better get a pin and pad and take some lessens
cause you ain't at the penicle, kid you ain't at the bottom
you have to dig your way out the grave
thinking s**t a** rhymes like Soulja Boi will top-em
no one feels you, like kids not ******** up at a rave
That road you walked, I already re-paved
beat the ones you wish you knew, thats the way
the only way, the best to say, its how I play
I don't need to beat lil kids like you into a bloody paste
I already done it in a haste, easy, you don't even place
not even a thanks for attending, the directions card of the deck
thrown in the trash, thinking you can then out lash
you've been wrecked, and yet you continue to come back and check
Your s**t can't even be remade into some sort of Hash
blood trickling down your face from the gash
My tongue yielding to no one, the lyrical sword that I cast
its a passion that I have, you think you can get cashed
more like I ashed you out and said you tasted like gas
you a poor individual, mental and body, fat ******** of a Lass
Wanna be God Of War the way You think you have a Heavenly Sword
when I just choke you out with your freshly cut umbilcle cord
I wield Blades of Chaos, thats the way my words paint pictures
and how I'm able to bring out different styles and mixtures
I suggest you just praise, hope we help you
cause you're worse than a tool, you don't even have a hue
Sitting up on your self made pew, I take you out like Lincoln
You just got to see the tip, I'm a ice berg, titanics? I sink-um
you can't even knock down a tower of Jenga
hell, you can't even kick Lincoln Logs, how you a Ringa?
I'm the speed of a feather weight, the hit of Tyson in his prime
you're just writing shitty a** metaphors thinking your flow can rhyme.

boredom 4laugh