[Verse 1: Termanology]
I got bars for days, bars for weeks
That's why these rap dudes never wanna spar with me
I step in the ring and break them down like Mayweather
Never lose money on a bet so I save cheddar
When it come to bars I left a hundred scars
On these rappers' careers, I'm laughing in tears
I'm on my 50 shit, starting beef when I'm spitting shit
You funny cats dancing around on some Missy shit
Your boy fresh, cleaner than a hospital
Cooler than a popsicle, hustling them crops of dro'
Corny rappers only do it for the bread
So my rhymes leave them baked, I'll turn them to cornbread
Leave them cooked, deep fried, you [?]
What I spit, you sweeter than a beehive
Since knee high all up in these streets I
Been earning my stripes, the block wanna see me shine

[Verse 2: Ea$y Money]
Listen, I hate to say this, but damn I'm back, Term
Got bars like a franchise tavern
All my joints is crack like got damn
Got a Earl Boykins gat, will not jam
Hit the booth and I rip
Always spit truth when I spit so get used to this shit
Move with the fifth, y'all anorexic
Little on the waist, doose doose on the hip
''I'm shooting them clips'' what your man'll say
When it's beef he stole the scale, ran away
My hammer spray, left kids missing
Only time your hammer spray is when your pet pig pissin', listen
My life like a movie
I swear for arthritis he get all the writers
It's ST, all my troops go hard
Don't play the two-position, but we shooting, God
[Verse 3: Nitty Scott, MC]
The B girl specimen, hustle harder than a Mexican
I got the regimen for anyone I'm better than
Little men, jiggle these gentlemen like they gelatin
Genuine, knowing I be getting under their melanin
Toss my flow up and the crime rate go up; criminal
Lyrically killing them by the syllable
And I don't mean to belittle you when I say it's pitiful
That you could ever claim ovof a chick with better literal
These rappers so incredibly edible
Strip 'em of that pedestal and down to their skeletal
Unethical, does my menu offend you?
Man, I be selling out, but just the venue
With these butters on my feet
Word to my boombox, gun is in the street
Yo, this is Ziplock fresh, catch you whiffington
This is Emily Dickons on that piffington
Uh, and that's just how it's gone be
The kid so free oxygen breathe me
Terminating the talent, this type of talk is tactically
Witty Nitty up in your city with Termanology, what?