This is a song about "Spitters are quitters"

Blessed to be who they are

She is far bizarre

Are your hands still shaking? are those aids?

I slumped, in my chair and my grades

My raps are good, yours are bad..

Snapple fact: you rather wack

Wif hitters enraged from the quitters

So you finally got the nerve

Fuck wolf gang, fuck what? here let's take a trip

Your rhymes are nuclear but mine are demonic

I'm fried from this ripple

Skills are astronomical,

When you know that you are

'bout to get my other car

And you don't have the clearance to visit where spitters spit vicious

And all we lack is communication like service sucks