Hip Hop Forum

Peep the way I fight son/like Tyson I bite son
So understand it right the next time you wanna fight son
I fight mean, light green, nice Beem, quite clean/my team get hoes jockin at the night scene
Ice sheen; no it shine like some Soul Glo/fuck a piece of the pie I want the whole hoe
Hey why ya guy such a homo/I think she a dime you took the nine like you Romo
Slo-mo yea I'm movin in slow motion nigga, cuz my weed is potent nigga/regs aint what I'm smokin nigga
Legs you could get broken nigga/if you get to jokin nigga
I dont think its funny dummy casket can't be open nigga
Gotta close, lot of flows, change like a lot of clothes/low class bitch I dont fuck wit dem Prada hoes
Gotta go, gotta run, gotta dip quick bitch/musta caught da flu cuz its true that I am sick bitch
Bisquick whip got ya chick on my shift stick/tried to talk slick so I hit her with my dipstick

I dip my stick in thick chicks and spit sick things
they lick and leave lipstick rings
tell chicken heads to fly south or else get clipped wings.
tick tick *ding*. flip shit,its hot out the microwave
tryin ta take my mic is like rockin lycra at a hells angel biker rave
some type of brave or maybe way past asinine
brass knuckled rap mastermind,
being crass,flashin' mine amidst economic mass decline.

here's some shit to pass the time,
i built a model verse to fashion lines,
dressed it up, with a mustache to rhyme,
like mr. potato head..a new smashed design,
lives drawn against the wall..no big pictures n frames,
these people not important, they're just stick figures with names,
sick in the brain, slightly i got a stitch that remains,
ripped out my mind from the mouth so i can spit it insane,
galactic merges, now i see these vibrant colors cross the scene,
violent others cause a scream, a silent smothered pause between...
a vaccine..one to make me ordinary, three fourth is barely,
abnormal enough.. the other quarter's scary,
my thoughts can hardly afford to spare me,
so my mind tosses me a sword to parry,
short n airy...so light that when i swing its sort of care free,
quick enough to accidently kill the purpose,
n let the blood spill till it fills the surface

I'm bored as hell, got no service on my cordless cell
I'll make a comeback, or at least that's what my fortune tells
fuck a bitch, luck and shit, puffin' spliffs, lovin it
Looking for a great? man you're sittin right in front of it
maybe not, but big names get big by makin themselves hot
by braggin and raggin on everyone else, when they
should the fuck up themselves

Aight, so Verse been gone for a minute
But now I'm right back in it
In it to finish not in it to Win It
Cuz I diminish the vicious, leave and Visit
The Witness, then slip to his Business
Plant the bomb in his Britches
Turn on the gas in the Kitchen
Then skip down the block, sip some tea and listen...

I Rip a page out my notebook these rappers get so shook
When i Walk Hoes Look, Im Best The Best Crook
Wit These I Break Wit These Lines I Make Wit The Dimes I Take
In My Mind I Make, Niggaz Dia-late/die late Like It Wasnt The Time To Take.

I'm iller than ya wanabee killers, spitting comedy fillers, I'll fuck ya mother, ya sister and ya little dog too, matter fact I've probably've already gove through, higher than heaven, I used to rob seven elevens, but then the arabs started blowin' shit up, I don't fuck with crazy, maybe I'm lazy, I'll put you in the dirt like Patrick swazee, it's a freestyle, I never took the time, you wanna rob? you'll be a crook in lime, cause ya writtens look like a page out of Nick Cannons book a rhymes.

Fuck taking the test, I'm fin to be takin your Breath/
Cuz when it comes to the tech I'm steady gettin Respect/
Knew from fuckin wit vests it best to just aim at the Neck/
Click and let loose, send out the chills and bump on the Goose/
Stay dumpin the tools on a quest for cash an a couple of Jewels/
Steady mobbin these faggots who stay up in my News/
They aint no ballas, I'm known for exposin the Ruse/
Cuz they aint got no airtime, like an unused Noose/
Stay runnin through crews aimin and upchuckin the Booze/
But I'm sick of this life, sick of the Strife/
Sick of wondering whats gonna happen Tonight/
When me and the boys start creepin an sneakin on Life/
Its crazy, the hand thats been given and Dealt to Me/
And the only one I can trust other than myself is... Me...

I carry my pen like a cross amongst ravines
dusted knees while the clock punches me
I'm tryna see if time will just come to me
knock on my window, as I sit upon my sill
present the future even tho' it's beyond my will
errythin' goes wrong, concealed is my machete
slashin' deadly, confetti, and ranch dressing
a pyramid on my head hiding my divine-est skills
pick at the eyes, and leave that silent hill
I devore my enemies with the power a' plenty
wonderin' where these midnight hour's will send me

blah....hahahahahahaha

yo i'm that upstart orator, rapstar radical
quick to put tenured emcees on forced sabbatical
some underestimate, act brash and adversarial
they're in unmarked graves after closed-casket burials
you don't frighten me in the least dude
i slaughter wack cats like you, make em into chinese food
i'm something like a phenomenon
a real live one, short-circuiting rap automatons
word is bond, i control the game like a referee
spittin flame, burnin you punks like fuckin effigies
dispensing hot lyrics and beats from here to tennessee
refreshin the streets, i'm like a hit of hip-hop febreze
you cats in jeopardy, rap pathetically
reality opposes your intentions diametrically

Lyrically, these weak MC's don't appear a factor, their whole career is backwards
Canon couldn't make this clearer faster
I reach feats in one day, that it would take them a year to capture
hear the laughter, try to mirror me, it will be a sheer disaster
i dont fear a rapper, who is clearly after the style I nearly mastered
upping the sickness like swine flu
fuck with these bitches, why should I try to?
I'm through, they drop nothing consistent
adjusting my shit list
I have the aCTS to bury discussing these limits
I've got production equipment
with less dust than the gimmicks
they can't touch what I spit, just in a minute
it's cool, its nice, I rule the mic
in the school of life, they are the student type
studious, but act like jackasses, they must read stevo's book
I'd catch them up on a line, but I don't need no hook
people look, its the evil crook, here to steal my rhyme style
I'll give them a five minute time trial to see if they can become my rival
I'm like a live idol even when I'm idle