Ishi

Your style's so dull, it could put folks to sleep, Listening to you feels like a long, boring creep. You say you’re a king, but where’s your crown? More like a jester in a hand-me-down gown. Every word’s a stumble, your rhythm's in trouble, Like chewing on gum that's lost all its bubble. You think you’re a player, but you’re barely on the field, In this rap game, you’ve got no shield. So take a seat and learn a thing or two, ‘Cause right now, my friend, you’re through!