I droped this...
I was born on the seventh day with seven mics on my right hand/
And seven colour coded cables and seven elastic mic stands/
Then I knew by age seven I would be on my way to be called a rhyme legend/
With rhyme patterns/ and dope add'ins/
The only f-emcee to be known as a rhyme tyrant/
Strangle whack Mc's with their own digs for battling/
I got seven ways to slaughter and eleven styles of riddlings/
Forget E's cos like E, I do with ease/
Easily break you down, I’m the mic disease/
I’m so ill I should be named Miss Deceased/
Not that 7-Sense doesn't fit me, its cool/
But my lunch time is gone now I gotta go back to school//
And he spat this...
seven mics don’t make you have seven lives/
killing you literally is idea on my seven minds/
why are you here are you done with your shit/
we all know you give out to guys just only for a lift/
being a bicth pays i can see it in your eyes/
they say you even cal yourself " the sex spice"/
too bad your embryo expired so no children/
heard your choice of rounds is seven/
your mom comlained about your bitchness since you became eleven/
stupid bitch i pop you till your pussy is into pieces/
you damaged you even feard by a horse/
Now, tell me who's dope?...
