I got a hot boy on my tail in hot pursuit
A don or shooter? A veg or a herb?
I'll classify him as a fruit
To say I don't spit murderous, inspirational words is a lie
I've spit cold verses on cold corners, the brothers my alibi
Puffin' lye while examining life
Strive for the best,
Don't miss a step, in strife
This King's movin' pawns
Like I was keying a game of chess
I debate with God you deserve a body
So I contest my theory with your chest
Remove the contents & context
You're no wordsmith,
You're wordless & worthless
You'll wish you never messed
You missed the mark of text's 'curve' test
Haven't seen a vagina with a pen since Curssive
uhh wut...