(Muffin, undazed, returns)

I’m opposed to disclosing
these back-rubbin’ hos
for the phonies they are,
at least, so I’d suppose.
Instead, not resortin’ to low blows,
I’ll make sure my foes are closed for the night,
so:

Mc Ts gotta tiny wee wee,
is making fun of me
gonna change the way you pee?

HELL no.

Urine or your out
of the closet, no doubt,
you came out during your last rap bout.

Screamin’ bout your tiny wiener,
and while I’d like to keep my insults cleaner,
your dong couldn’t feed an african dinner.

That was a bit was meaner than the rest,
not to mention the rhyme scheme was a stretch.

However, if that’s the way we need to play,
that’s the way it’ll stay, we clear, ese?

(Muffin devours the microphone whole, only to return it, stinkier than usual, to Mc T)