Tad Winslow, must I repeat?
You don’t AWAIT defeat?
You’re already obsolete.
And while you walk the street,
no shoes on your feet,
think about why you shouldn’t compete.

You’re just a major tooler.
You need to go to class, Bueller.
The definition of a loser,
You’ve got half as much class
as a bird’s stool, uh.

And my british heritage gives me extra skills, innit?
While you’re doomed to lose, I’m in it to win it.

And the ladies can’t help gimme oogly stares,
as I walk up the old apples ‘n’ pears.

The lou is for you,
no matter what you do,
your rhymes are weak
and your name still is, too.

Eddie Joe, I won’t even touch.
A God among us, he’s the leader of the bunch.
As well as Elshahawk, they’re the elite team in this game,
unlike you, who’s the definition of LAME.

YEAH!
WHAT!
YEAH!
WHAT!
AIGHT!