[keikiwai]

my rhymes are like cockroaches burning in nuclear fires
you think they're nasty now
but after the blaze they're the only ones alive
forming a master hive
delicious like sour cream potatoes and chives
and that's how i'll eat you up
like a chocolate jesus, won't be nothing left of you
less than miss chriss' a cup
slaughtering fools like t god pwns the drizzle
my supremacy is fo shizzle
and your skill's small as a thimble






uh!