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"Ah, FlexasaurusRex, you think you're quick,
But your rhymes are stale, like a week-old trick.
You say I'm slow, like a snail in the game,
But my flow's on fire, leaving you with the shame.
You bail and seek shelter, but can't hide,
My rhymes are a storm, and you're just a slide.
Helter skelter, that's what you get,
When you step to the mic, and your skills are wet." 1 reply
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