Empty threats and cheap talk are all this clown has
I go bare hands at a writer and shut down that Jazz
How's this bitch got a win, been a joke at Netcees forever
Something smells fishy here, quick Wanderer clamp your knees together
My verses are immaculate, I could only lose with cheap rigging
Yours are flawless too, whenever I think you've hit rock bottom you keep digging
Pussy bitch, my verses get praise yours belong in the fucking bin
Only time anyone's said "sharp verse Wanderer" you were in the middle of ducking him
I start funerals for boring writers once I've fired the glocks
At least now you'll have an excuse for always thinking inside the box
My writing compels voters to give props even when I've keyed shit
Your writing compels <--- voters to give you one every time they read it
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