He SKIRT around the issues, he SKIRT when I'm around
Cause his worst don't work when I'm around
At worst he a round from a pistol around a missile
A pack of peppers around a pound of pickles
A pound around a soundless nickel around town soft as down
And wouldn't put sound through a whistle
A clown that I would to love see wear a crown of sickles
Who comes out to the sound of crickets
And buys his own tickets to his rounds to diss you
You hear the distant sound of different styles of life you wish you Had but too bad, you had the chance
But now you can't even get an ass to kiss you?
The issue is you fight on the wrong side of the tissue
You supposed to be the shit, not try and shit on THE shit
And sit on the wrong side of da pistol
I'd really like to stick you with the drawing side of a pencil
Or stab chisels right into the side of ya mental
That makes them boring rhymes you into
Some of the homies is gay
Maybe we can all get together and make you a closet
Go to Home Depot this weekend
You know really make it a project
Diz, I would love to get you in da ring and make you a hobbit
But you ain't even religious
So why would I put these crosses on you just make you a profit?