I don't claim to be champ I was voted in the position
By a jury of my peers ..I had little competition
I'm gonna handle you now, it's now my mission
You'll soon be wishin
That I'll stop dishin
My lethal dose of rhymes that'll make you think about switchin
From streetracing to becomin a muthafuccin Christian
Now stop bitchin
Stop snitchin
Before I leave your ass twitchin
Next time you're seen it'll be down in a ditch and
You'll realize with whom you've been dealin
Like Toyota, you'll be sayin Oh What a feelin
Tryin to get the fucc away, you're tires straight sqealin
Like the banana in your sig, your cap, I'll be pealin
Your rhymes made about as much sense as the US in Iraq
You cant lose your train of thought cuz it was never on track
I'll wipe you down, you're the window and I'll be the squeegee
Whenever you see me
You get on your knees Gee
Then commence to please me
Now I'm out of here, still representin the West Coast
I'm now the object of my seekin, homie, I'm ghost.

There's my start up reply, lolol. Later, QD.