The Thunderman:
I've been waitin for the time you came at us with the rhymes
Now tell me why you're tryin to have a style like mine

Stop cryin mother$#&@er you ain't never done meth
Keep that loose talk of murder up under your breath
Blood pourin? You ain't got the nerve to shank me

Remember that track you made trying to thank me?
What's behind them tats and rags? Nothin
You've never been to Long Beach son, you need to stop frontin

Dead End Signature, It's got you fake gangsters stuck
Your flow's premature like them girls that you $#&@
And you ducked at Walmart, saw me waiting outside

Snuck out the garden center like a real gangsta, right?
Down For The Brown ain't down for my town
Cause from Fayetteville to Bentonville the Scribes hold the crown

You came at the man who taught you how to produce?
Your work's a JOKE son, Cool Edit's got you confused
From Gentry to Hembree has brought you to this?

Throwin up the southside with a flop in your wrist? !@^#gat
One Syllable %#@! rhymes
Mr. Criminal dick riding

Pedophilic pitiful excuse of a sick sider
You wouldn't swing just you and me and bring in no one else
Quit making music chump, this Ese's JOKIN himself


(Chorus-Mobb Deep)


Cestone:
You brought it on yourself, how you're talkin all slick
Eat a dick, you can't spit, you got no one convinced

I wish you would step to us, you little punk tellin lies
You ain't got the balls at all to come and scrabble with the Scribes
Think twice before you speak, or say the word beef

You can't walk up to a fight by yourself you roll deep
Like a (*##$, Why you so scared to take a loss?
Get stomped on concrete for that %#@! that you talked

You ain't never pulled the trigger, I've got your front figured out
You ain't from the west cost little (*##$, shut your mouth
You couldn't last two rounds with a Scribe it's been provin

Why your lips keep movin when your head is full of bruises?
I'm laughin at your crew, they feel they need to be heard
But tell me what they said when your head hit the curb


Victor HD:
Aight, who's the !@$) that wanna step up to the Scribes?

Crossing lines, goin around to people talkin, spreading lies?
It's Sloth from the Goonies sayin "HEY YOU GUYS!"
Gettin beaten to the curb, comin up with crossed eyes

And all that %#@! you talkin will leave your mouth justified
And your friends about to know the truth and know that you a disguise
Talking back after all of this will be your demise

Cause your atom size vocabulary won't be up to size

The Vanilla Killa:

It's Vanilla on the mic and you woke me out of my slumber
How'd you get your $$# kicked When we were simply out numbered?
You claimin DFB but you ain't down for %#@!

I bet my 2 year old daughter could knock your $$# out trick
Remember that night you got your face blistered at taco bell?
But What the hell? You were happy cause the woman told you that you handled it well

It should be a sin to be in my state
Where the Dead End Scribes thrive and the Thunderman dictates
The first place you started banging, was on Myspace

Come over here to Cali and get your cap peeled back
You ain't Longo (*##$, stop saying it on your track
The LB on the back of your head s means Little (*##$, and that's a fact

You said you wanted beef, well I sent you dairy
Give up son, this is the Dead End Scribes something we're bigger than is legendary
I think it's scary how you claim to be a G

But you ran and hid with a bunch of fake $$# tats on your body
Explain that to your kid