Im from The Coli, where posters goin postal over bullshyt/
First they dap for your postin then throw you out the pulpit/
I won't lie don't know Steezy and findin em ain't so easy but he the chosen opponent, so on with the roastin, I told em/
Rappers give me any baby I will battle twenty/
why be afraid when he kill it every time like Kenny/
I'm ridin with a semi, so fukk these coli rappers/
Matter fact my inbox still filled with all these rappers/
Kush you gimme a beat?, I'm like shyt what you need? I like this but wonderin is there a fee,?/
naw I stayed here hitting these key's mixing this beat, sitting for three hours so you could get it for free/
Thass why I never talk to coli rappers never holla hello/
Purple got my eyes low, I am Donatello/
I park the yellow 911 on Rodeo, while Im stuntin with ya bytch she think she getting on my payroll/
Why u reppin ATL tho? homo thug capital/
They'd put a dikk in you for they put a clip in you, pause,/
The whole battle, homo no mi hablo, Liotta U2,(fukk Truality) no I aint talking bout Bono/
Ya moms drive through late night she wanna talk O's(drive through/late-night/tacos)/
yes Im lean in from the punch hi my name is Boppo/
In the game for the loot like Diablo/
So I aim and I shoot with the crossbow/
I could blaze ya crew, I box em all 360 so yea you can get halo too (box/360/Halo 2)
Why he braggin? send this fakkit home, he on his bed crying/
Got tore/tour so bad you'd think Rihanna headlining/
In the sauna in Hawaii marijuana temp risen, green steamin broccoli on us, pocahontas skin dryin/
Broken promises I try em, the models we could fly in, hair from mocha chocolate to cyan, they talk then Im sighing, I drop dead I'm lyin/
Im the mayne around here, no lyin'/lion (mane/round/hair/lion)/
If you see the gang round here don't try em,they flyin'/
Off the handle I tell to handle the beef that you fryin, I'm the man in these streets and an animal so not don't be wilin/
I'll win every battle through the finals, try to beat you get scratched then cut like the vinyl, give a fukk what you rhyme to/
Everything you saying is ass you ace ventura comin out of the rhino, run out if we find u/
I smoke a pound a that purple, yea I'm smelling like pinesol, this verse it could hurt you , til you I thinking that I'm through/
And them razors could burn you, leave a buck 50 on you,and them angels eternal, you say hi to God too, cause these rappers could die baby....
so I guess I gotta stunt on em 
.....