I just got back from my trip...not a lot of time to do this, but...
I'm poundin these bitches like Pacers games when the bench clears/
The ends-near for Murk and its curtains for Intense Fear/
Murk's-using-dashes-like-hes-Fatal's-replacement
Either bitin or ghostwritin, got him tied up in the basement/
Get on your knees and pray that you're prayin the right prayer
If your name was "Wes Craven" you couldn't be the "New
Nyghtmare"/
I fight-pairs of partners/ and split 'em up like divorces/
Man, the skills that I possess are straight up sweeter than the Force is/
Your torched, bitch - You dont have the tools to fight it with the pros/
The "bars" i spit are "gold" like I got "Midas" in my bones/
I'm fuckin Titus with the prose, the fuckin tighest with the flows/
The only title that you got is "the fucking whitest one who blows"
The author-itis (arthiritis) makes you moan, and shuts you up like its the mafia/
Just standing on my "level" will give you cases of "apoxia"/ (<-- Altitude Siccness
)
Get off the "nuts", you got a "Planter's addicition"/
I can't even stand to listen to these amateurs spittin/
Its like a man in the kitchen: you're confusin your role/
Thinkin you're the #1 Seed, but I got you losin in my poll/
Intense - please dont post until you're pipin-hot-and-able/
Or at least take a tip from your partner and start bitin-off-of-Fatal...
(I gotta go to work, I'll have the one against my partner when I get back...)