TRU-IN-DEED:

When I flex my pen
poets pray to Jesus

or catch a verbal blast ...
'cuz like Ivan Rodriquez
I got a gun for an arm
that'll blow you to pieces

see ...

a lot of you cats lately are lackluster
and lyrically lame
what you've written to date dictates
fuck riding the bench ...
you don't belong in the game

Your writing is indeed garbage
flow needs polish

TECHNICAL-ly speakin' your style is more FOUL
than Rasheed Wallace

Don't be mad at me playa ..
It doesn't make sense

Hatin' cuz I'm an all star starter
And you're third string off the bench

Mad 'cuz ya girl says your stroke is shaky
Like Shaq at the free throw line
You dimwits get no shine
You're washed up fam
Time to hang your pen up to dry on the CLOTHESLINE

Dawg we scribin' poetic piledrivers
While you're wrestling with who you are
I'm SLAMMIN' anyone to dares to oppose mine

Are you buggin'?
Even Jim Duggan couldn't hack the flow

Imma tag fam in
and let Styles get at you yo ...

  STYLES C.:

....Jim Dugan... Hacksaw... Shaq's free throws? Tru lemme hold your pen for a second... See if some of that rub off on me...

My Pen does a full pike in a fight
Enter with no splash
Clear the Diving board with enough Room
to flip some more and show my ass

On forth and 10
Put the Fullback in
Play fakes are just that
We don't play pretend
On the snap... The give is to him

We playin to win
Yall stuck in a prevent defense

Then I switch sports

You in a neutral corner
Mimicking an imaginary cross
playboy ... that can't save your
Zab ass style and a fragile glass jaw

Picking pieces up off the floor
Asking stupid shit
Like: What'd you stop the fight for?

Because dickhead
You wasn't swinging really
Instead
you were getting pelted... rocked... and looking silly

Ok... Ok... ok...

Batters UP!

If you're swinging at air
You're striking a pose

Ok...

... I'm done...

I'm done

Nah one more thought

like eight ball
they shoot for it all
petty pocket thieves
trying to hit what they call

Tru take em back up top
Harlem!
Classic photo op
for Topps

Ballers
use to rock Eight balls
neighborhood blockstars
Go to the Rucker
bet the game on Weed and Cars

Meet me on 116th and 8th
we can have a healthy Sporty debate
in a historical Place

Harlem World...

Then it's back over the Broooklyn Bridge for the Kid...

  TRU-IN-DEED:

I spit that ether
verbally bare arms like wife beaters

with a line of scrimmage
shatter your image
and stop you short like Derek Jeter

Ya'll are the equivalent to
tryin' to buy a house with bad credit

you don't get it ...

lyrical type of sniper rifle
your run ... stifled
pick you off like Andy Pettitte

wait ....wait ....wait
time out ...
let's keep it gully in a rhyme bout
you'll be callin' for the ref
before you get a line out

my spit got sting
though I never claim to be the greatest
I'm top notch and what I pen is the proof

my lines PIERCE your defense
my pen is the truth

I pen prose with pin point precision
and automatic aimin'

in a contest of verse
we're first
while you take second like Johnny Damon

what I spit is the spittin' image of Hank Aron
we nail the griity grammar with a HAMMER
.....so proper

opponents get ate
see I'm swift behind the plate like Po-sada
you think you know ...but you know nada
Styles C and TID ....

who you know flow hotter?