DEFENDER'S RAP

• my mean streaks heat seek, this shit that I jot's thermal,
• you rap the shit I deem weak, you corny as crop circles,
• I pop kernels, you all startled with martial law,
• I'm above the generals, majors getting carted off,
• I can't spar with soft, oft lost ass battle cats,
• they be pulling utter, nonsense like a cattle pack,
• I'm just flipping these bars like an acrobat, that's a fact,
• all ya rappin lacks, you be rappin lax,
• I'm on point like steeples, needles, cops with white people,
• I might be slight evil, all my lines lethal,
• like lead ricin and aresenic,
• I'm the greatest, shaking the game like it's Parkinson's,
• I'm an artisan, my pen game is insane,
• every word's fucking crazy, like my pen's Zane's,
• I've switched lanes, the fast track is abstract,
• my brake lights could break Mike, and his trash raps,
• I take time, I'm crushing, never rushing,
• hushing discussion of these punks bustling over nothing,
• either you out ya marbles or you marvel at pounds skill,
• but either way, it's over for you, because my rounds kill,
• thought you had drive, Mike, Park her before you crash,
• battling me is like swerving while mashing on the gas,
• you come last, shouldn't open ya poor mouth,
• because now you looking AT L'S like Morehouse