I'm a high-flying, super-sliding, hip-throw-guiding force, taking you down with an uppercut straight to the gut. Like Sub-Zero in a fight, if you lag, I'll tag to the right, intentionally freezing as I unleash this inner fighter, channeling Liu Kang's insane combo. Harmful as a torpedo from Sektor, bullet-piercing like a Nightwolf arrow, I thunder crash down, sounding the alarm for a killer, deadlier than Stryker. Entering to knife you down like Kano, then pounding like Jax, I'm maxed out with a finisher, ending it with the famous Babality. In and out, you can't see, as Noob takes hold, upside-down, in and out of the game. A Mortal Kombat expert, I'll Murk you with a badass Baraka, chop-chop-chop, then hop in, replacing him with the amazing Smoke. I'll choke you out, steal your soul with Shang Tsung. No more police, as Kabal enslaves all, caught in a net, or wait, is that Cyrax with a setback? It's no act, it's a fact, lacking skill, I'll peel back skulls, posing for a shot. It's part of Johnny's frame, aiming for a change, "Get over here," as he spears you with both hooks. Scorpion is the man with the fire, I'm lighter than air, higher than a trip to hell, killing all these misfits. Laps, final turn, burning with no change to me, I'm everywhere and everyone, can't you see? Freeze as I murder you with a "Finish Him." I'll be damned if you walk away; I'm a murderer today. Too much to win, I'm on top, showing my skill, pick who you will, but I know I'm the best, so rest your head or land flat on my palm. I'm the bomb, bitch.