Justin Diss

Now I see it's clear as a table with a crystal top,

little boy named Justin found dead from the pistol shots,

every time I spit a rhyme, man, Iraqi missiles drop,

never mind, commit a crime, man, his shit will rot,

make sure that he's dead now, "lyrics wrote it quick",

want deep? Then don't choke, deep-throat THIS DICK!

Clean and full, meaningful, drivin' right past him swervin',

that's the purpose, why battle? His rap is worthless,

little middle class suburban kid, my ass is perfect,

fuckin' up you kids, Catholic church, and after birth,

you're thrown down back to Earth, bitch eat the grass and dirt,

kill yourself for half a verse, spaced out like Captain Kirk,

smash the surface, burn like furnaces, stacked in an urn,

turn on the TV and burst it, re-furnish back in the fern,

man this shit isn't no Super-Bad, there's not much lovin',

we're brothers? Motherfucker, no, I say FUCK JUSTIN!