DEFENDER'S RAP

• You came back, well I'll aim glocks with named stocks for you to get knocked
• Got your frame locked when you claimed spots, hands on rounds for you to get clocked/ clock
• I clutch fearless, lunge furious, my hunger's matchless
• You swing reckless, I punch serious/sirius, that's Math hoffa In Summer Madness
• Cryin' sounds when that matic pounds and I'm' catching frightened sights
• find this clown and I'm letting him see Iron Rounds like he's watching Mike Tyson fights
• I can continue to do gun lines, talking about how my arms close like a jabbing stance
• Or I can talk about his style and expose this ass like I'm sagging pants
• see he put lines together that flow well, but he ain't punching shit, if he is, he's hittin' mitts
• He's hoping we can't tell, he's a fraud drug dealer, tryin to sell us lines that don't even hit
• There's nothing in the rhymes he spit, this the second time, joe's battling with hollow shit!
• These attacks piling, He tried smiling with all the events transpiring, i'll start firing
• while he rhyme reciting, he shook and dropped, I'll off his top like he's freestyling
• I'm cleaning battle rap, this trash is just adding up to that, I'll purge locations
• All of you dead when I truly snap, I got y'all stacked/stack in the bag like church rotation
• When I shoot pounds, it'll hit your dome and you'll fall plain, but He got away
• So I shot rounds and he ran for home, I'm a different ball game!