ok, u 'n ur lyrics made a plain-show, while mine strain-those
cuz it's got so much color people think i murdered rainbows
bitch sniffin markers, sayin absurd shit, i think she's high
my rhymes be colorin more shit than hippies wit a supply of dye
u only supplyin me wit ammunition, crush u 'n tha competition
wit all tha blah blah, false statements, u sound like a politician
before u start dyin take wut u learn, start applyin to wut u replyin
cuz my level of rhymin iz like a legendary rappin super saiyan
punchlines hittin so hard till u see tha whites on the knuckles
rip thro ya muscles, ya brain waves ripple more than Ruffles
u knoe wut's bad for ur diet? tha fact u use fillers
to make it seem like u got punchlines, but u ain't iller
fuck, u can bring ur gun, but my pencils still pack more lead
decapitate ur head, keep it as a trophy juss so i can stay ahead
u ain't got skillz let alone tha balls to go toe-to-toe-wit-me
blow-for-blow-hit-me if u can stay focused, keep ur eye on this
o please miss, i dunno how u call dem punchlines or even a diss
i remain-unfazed, ur body frame-left-dazed, no wonder u amazed
git a clue, i eat thro u, u couldn't stay sick even if u had tha flu
cuz essence spits more bars than animals seen at a zoo
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es·sence (n.) -
1. The intrinsic or indispensable properties that serve to characterize or identify something.
2. The most important ingredient; the crucial element.

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