This ain't what you want!

How can you be Rap Fame's top battle rapper and also be trash? Give me your face and watch me drag it through broken, jagged pieces of glass. It was your prerogative to battle me or not. You refused, which rattled me a lot, which tells me you're afraid to be desaddled from your spot. You were mortified when I mentioned posting our battle at the same time. What are you age nine? There's nothing dangerous about your mundane rhymes? Where your brains should be is a spot hollow. Even now you cannot follow because I'm more nastier than snot swallowed. My alter ego wont battle me either, so I totally get it. Don't sweat it. My second alter ego said it: You're both totally pathetic. No need for a medic. Hell is where you're headed, where even inside your bones, full blown flames will be embedded. That's prophecy - don't forget it. Your personal oddessy. Dread it. I'm just your ordinary oddity, who came to you in modesty. If you were hot at me, why fret it, instead you're overrated? No features have I celebrated, while you're wack getting elevated. You say you dont care about whoever you offend homie? Well, may all the bad things that happen in life, happen to you only. I still don't curse, but I can be perverse. Note to yourself in your red purse: Get quality kneepads since you go in head first. Maybe I should call you head nurse or to be more specific, you're a limp biscuit - the prolific wife of Fred Durst. I have much more to say, but why waste it on a punk? You're just garbage to be chunked. Aedaes, I mean idiot, this aint what you want.