Freestyle Cypher

I'm back (homo)
Yeah, time to adjust...
take your mind n' then crush every line inside of it for some kind of a rush!
Like Limbaugh'... yeah, Simba of the rap game.
So it's for the reason that I just mentioned that I touch pens and...
Start to slash em' in half, and... go back to the Captain
of the boat and ask em' to put the raft back on track, man...
Because I'm ready for beef. Fillet any one on the scene...
coming between my order, yeah, fuck your four words!
Like Cage... A bright stage is the only thing I'll come out to...
It's now proof. I spit out truth to every ground root -
ed underground... hear the thunder sound and clashes of lightning...
It's like the rapture, exciting, smashing through the back of the hydrant
and doing so with such momentum, Zeus would be appalled...
I'd stop, but I don't see a wall... but hell, you can see these balls
hanging through thee' sequins drawers... ! That's how I play...
the 25th hour, K.O'n all of you cowards... weight...
overload... going over the boat, no life saver...
light saber in hand, I'm ready to fight, neighbor.
I'm like the White Ranger... pretty much unique, but wasn't
green before... these jeans hang off of my fucking ass
like a teen and board... (skateboard) ... and if you haven't seen the team before
you will, but they don't like you... so just leave before...
we careen your ford off into a ravine before you can see the floor...
And that's just off of a 16, you whore!
Besides my 16's are for the people who were yelling out that they're needing more!
But not anymore. I gotta be
ready for any attack... you, you, and you,
especially the men in the back...
my pen is the act of adrenaline packed
in epinephrine packages giving to the medicine staff
before I'm ever let in the lab! (Crank shit)
Yeah, this head's been wrapped...
Hijab not for me... Socrates of the hip hop you cease
to play in your office, please...
be forewarned... I don't play nicely...
I'm a stop it now... any top head that's crowned? is getting ripped off the ground...

pull up on the block like TI, heavy old school on mean tires
put a little soda on the bean pie, hustle out the spot since knee highs
I want more kicks.. than every single team on F.I.F.A.
born an entertainer, but they want a see me in a cell
did so many things I pray that they won't ever tell
speed n it up n slow n it down
eat n it up, she blow n me down
my shoes need a Jersey hang n, at the Staples maybe
been through so many blocks you can't relate in
listen to Scooter Gucci n Future
Biggie Smalls 2pac and Luda
my style be twisted, body n lyrics every minute, any minute
life ain't fair, but I won't cry
kill n the streets wit dimes for 5, hold n myself from rob n guys
n strip n em blind, spliff in the sky for all the times I suffered inside
they doubt n the fire, .. its all in my mind, they spread n lies
but its all good, but I promise when I leave they'll say "he all hood"
"broke bread wit the poor" so I ain't ready for them heavenly doors
got more dues to pay n crews to spray with music flame
flip on anybody on the coolest day, you a lame
let em think that I'm a fool, but I won't lose today
cause I could have a role that doofy play, but at the end of the day
I'm in a drop, wit a thot, had a thought I wouldn't lose
you are what you think, I am what I eat, I'm cook n stew
out the window where you seen a flying book of rules

Through the dirt my hand bursts, parting mist on the ground
Putting work in on this earth, I'm starting this in cypher rounds
With my punchlines for days, to free hunched minds and slaves
Plus a side dish of horrorcore, consign you to your grave
So scrape the sleep out your eyes, and prepare to stack riches
The wait's over, stray soldier,
'Cause 6 is back bitches...

I rap quickness... I'm back up in this rap business...
Yeah, attack kids with... fire arms...
fire on a school of children... which is cool, it isn't like dudes
can move a building, n' my vantage point was kind of fucked...
Look inside of my mind, it's stuck.
Yeah catch me, hiding behind a bus...
Waiting for your kids to come out n' then I riddle em', blaow.
Riddler style. Over the edge, I got the Ritalin down...
Spitting, living inside of Middle America's ignorant brow...
Nah. That was just to finish the line.
Diminishing time. Drinking a Guinness, it's fine... in it's sublime.
-Riches. Define sickness. The line quickness.
"Still In the Grave"? Nope. I am out. Look inside if you find some doubt.
Fucking work boots. Gloves on, funeral attire.
Too many hired goons inside of the office, throwing you in the fire.
That's how you burn. Power earned, executive suite.
Record complete n' sent out, got the businesses checking my street.
Hustling learned from rustling words together into a combustion, observe
the functional curve, like a percussion causing destruction of nerves...
Working inside of a body. I don't even look at my lines,
I considering rhyming a hobby, the time it takes me to rhyme this is probably
a fraction of the time it'd take your average rapper to make...
a 16 in the booth, to recoup half of his cake.
That's a mistake. I scream "Mazel Tov", n' then crack through the plate.
of your foundation, only hoping your faction escapes...
Yeah Johnny 6 feet, I spit this shit Sweet.
Like Victor... the "Four Brothers" Movie Villain. Dudes be chilling
in that chinchilla suit like Frank Lucas, out in the cold...
Richie Roberts with the quickness, so now you should fold...
down. The soul sound of my flow...
Surrounding the globe, atmospheric, the ashes tear
through the axis of rapping lyrics...
Uh... cats who hear it are moved back, n' end up in mass hysterics...
But it's food for the soul, nothing but clashing "spirits"...
So don't "wine", "beer" witness to my "bars" in collection...
the margin, checking the "tab" as I "pour out" my heart's in this artist connection...
It's fucking retarded, I "whisk keys" (whiskeys) into verses
A mystery, a ridiculous dissing scheme of interest, seeing the shit ...
you can get ripped between...
Man...I have no qualms, arms of napalms...
So I stay calm, n' spray on site like an aerosol can...
of stray bombs...right?
And this is nothing artificial...
bars are missiles, shooting a hole in one if it's on par to hit you.
In the armoire is a pistol...
loaded like Lux is... trust, this... is nothing but an excuse to fuck up shit...
I get to... moods where I'm a nuisance...
And that's my two cents. Viewed as the new ruler of music...
Nah... that was a joke.
I'm over your "Good Morning, Vietnam" rapper approach...
to sound overly active, you're average at most...
I got raps that can capture a "Ghost", n' trap em' before
the spring trap at the door snaps n' the resonance is sent back to the host...!
On some Poltergeist shit...

My mind lifts off throughout time i shift throuigh
slowing, everything, around me is quick glue,
move, but im stuck, still cooler than an igloo,
with a ruler i rule out any rules you can stick too
break the psyical reality pecetion n step through.
blessesd? who? I move quick, what appears is no motion
steping up waves, i speed over the ocean,
molecules so dences I bubble and split them open.
with a notion that'll rift time in two to leave it broken,
sailing on the stream of time, i peek at the past
while jewels gleam in streams of molecule mass
when tripping, i slip off my eternal ladder,
falling back to reality and ahhhhhhhh

Well Celph, you mustn't have a fuck you gave to your health
Seeing a monster rise, then trying to make a name for yourself
Your verse read dumber than 'Fear and Loathing's' appalling trip was about
Leaving a battle with an ass like a yawning hippo's mouth
So better pack a pair of balls, because this is bat country
While I'm swinging for the fences like a celibate; fuck free
But besides that, I'm puzzled, bamboozled truthfully
About why most of your punches had nothing to do with me
Did I fuck your Girl or something? Taut, I won't ask twice
Or was it some medieval evil done in a past life?
As if I'd give a half a fu-, I'm cold as December, dude
No surprise you've been here for 8 years, but I don't remember you!
In half the lines I make twice the sense, mark me as the bench
The dead end where life is spent, and the darkest intents
You're less guarded than a minimal security prison
After you started this dismissible, born to bleed mission
Your words are not-rap, prepare for the cock-slap
From the frustrated viewers pining for time they got back
My sacred scriptures got you making wishes, but your record's lame
Raping your missus, taking pictures, you pawn in a whore's game

Wow, someone has sand in their vagina... you got easily rattled...
by me, n' a battle would be a disaster considering you would be shattered...
n' that's just a reflection of what would happen...
Didn't read through your shit... but believe me when I say
I knew it was about me, little prick...
Johnny 6 feet, get buried deep, quick.
You geek, suck on this meat stick until your jaw is numb...
Don't bother "son"... I fathered dumb little pricks like you, I mean lots of them...
n' they've all succumb to ass kicking just the same as your loss will come...
The Jack of All Trades, come n' get your fix...
Messages pressed against the very tip of the precipice...
You're in a no flexing zone... but I still flex when this text is on...
Your words suck, n' are not even on the verge of my lexicon...
(Faggot) So pay homage... your gay nonsense... is strayed conscious...
Just in the way, seconds late, with delayed concepts
That you say in a played context... I rearrange objects
concerning your face... changing your horizontal plane into a vertical shape...
Down the winding road of Rapbattles is where your curvature's placed..
Sound like a washed up faggot that hasn't learned his mistakes...
- yet... a great vet? Hold it, dude... you are no one new.
12 years on this site, n' I'm more accomplished n' known than you...
So shut it. When you transcend more than text, gimme a call...
Then minute you all see me in text, you easily leaving compressed...
Crushed... skills got no meaning, unless...
They're seen by me. Easily destroy your little needy themes...
With your Teen Magazine swag. Yeah, hush when the grown ups are talking...
I bust the breaks off your keys the moment's locked in...
Popping your mouth, huh... yeah, I don't give a damn, Johnny...
I got your mommy buns rubbing over my Tommy guns...(chuh)

whoa whoa, hold up guys, i'm not one to be stressing,
but, where is the love, no not the peas song, listen,
youre straight up? well im tearing this earth down
tearing it up as if i was a birth crown,
not so down to earth now, are you?
no substance feather weight, but when i hit I go far through,
skinny twig i could snap ya, relax n fall back like a barstool.
so just know when you cross the street, i'd barely consider you car food.
when i eat your words it feels like im fasting.. but less satisfying.
I can grip the earth pull it like a rug n send cattle flying.
cant think of any more lines, so im done with this battle rhyme.

Well give the medal to Captain Obvious, he spotted the beef rhyme
No shit it's about you Sherlock, I named dropped you like three times
Expecting apologies for my text? That's hard to own
Why would a sculptor need to shout what he carved in stone?
Take that as read I'd break your fingers to make you shut your mouth
One threat, he's having kittens, the dude is pussing out
I'm rolling up your grandma's ashes, I spark and slay folks
Sending them ass-first to Satan's pitchfork for retarded gay jokes
Your top 5 MC's list? What? Mongoloid Chronic-heads?
Massive Concussion? I'm mighty certain this boy I'm stomping dead
Anywho, good luck n all getting the strength to push back
Against 6's nuts crushing you flat like a whaleskin rucksack
But it's a shame this rookie cook is going to spoil the beef
With a goddam reply as long as War and Peace

At the very least, sheesh
Dis nigga think his shit is piff... Ol Steven A Smith with his soliloquies
Saying a bunch of nuthin in an articulate way hoping niggaz are feeling me
(We not)
Stop wasting bandwidth, man shit.. try to fit content within a 16 bar context
Its not too complex unless you not competent.. enough to work well within the conglomerate
You don't want beef with me buddy, you just a condiment
I'll have ketchup leaking out your face, mustard in your drawz
Hold the mayo, I say so cuz you busters need to PAUSE, and follow God's laws
Modern day odd flaws will have your soul eternally burning
And has anyone heard from Vincent lately, his safety is greatly concerning

Lol @ Johnny trying be creative with his themes, but his schemes are ancient...
n' seem archaic, we read n' see you've been depraved of being amazing...
You know, what I see is misplacement... n' it's largely involving you...
turnstiles rap, you're just revolving through...
It's Pokemon, Johnny, n' you're not evolving dude... let's say you're
still in your developing stages... the mental that raises questions about the intelligence matrix...
Especially involving somebody getting the basics
from Rapbattles template perplexes me. Yes, indeed... you can't stand next to C...
On mere terms on complexity, you already lose...
Your bomb is diffused. Faggot. Stay calm, folks! Johnny's is a licensed cocksucker.
Yes, he'll pucker up that fucking lip of his...
So stick a dick in it if you ever wish to catch his interest...
Like a loan officer... n' you can obviously see I could care less
About you talking to me, when you merely rapping is pure mockery to any hip hop MC...
HANNNH?
Yeah, who says "beef" anymore?
Jesus, your core is pretty weak below decent, n' pouring even further down
the periphery of the people keeping the score...
I'm taking this geek through the ringers...
Hear the sneakers beating the floor, the squeaks SCREECH
Like the siren weeps from the car... of the police... bitch...
Now, back to this deep shit...I beat this beat-nick until I leave
feet prints on his face, like the Hollywood walk of fame...
I don't need a shot, I just cock n' aim... pop, even if I'm not in range...
This is a blob facing Doctor Strange...
He'll drop like the stock exchange... when one shot
from my fist fucking PLOPS HIS BRAINS...
all over his hipster t-shirt... go get some research...
I don't need to keep it short, you freaking dork. Go write it into your BEEF report!!!!


Ha.

ahhh yes, flex on the best n get stretched here,
from the start of the calender, round to the next year,
Jan to december, i push through the gap where
you fall into the trap, yeah, snap like bear black,
fear on the tracks here... spread em like a pap smear,
crumble under pressure, all you kids be whack here,
lack steer, while im the no bull, noble to throw you
...under the tracks, dont point... just anoint,
this joint gets split n half, before i pull n pass,
through you with my fists, past the wrists,
up the the elbos growing arms out your back but
charming infact when im harming the track. yo..

Oscar Worthy...

Feelings been compromised with verses that be elongated
Peon, save it... more bandwidth wasted, more talking in the mirror
Probably throws up gang signs while putting on mascara and lip gloss
Judo flip hip toss your verses in the trash, just talking fast when you know your style is played
Not versatile, then had the nerve to talk evolving when at worst
When you talk its balking, automatically I walk to first
Literally I'll chalk you up and have you in dat hearse, rehearse the motions
Distraction by commotion before the locomotion impact explosion
No longer the Dragon, Now I am the Trojan
Bragging about going raw on oxymoronic internet jesters
CYPHA MOLESTER, won't let you fester, yes sir I pester with a Cheshire
Don't care about your age or sex, condoms on the dresser
Applies pressure which denies lesser the ego to enter
I see their gestures :igiveup: now they want me as a mentor/finesser
and/or
and more...

Go be a day dreamer, my flow is from the soul so it goes cleaner,
I woe with misdemeanors, coast to coast, as I overdose in a theater.
Wake up with a thick slut, Dick in her lips, so close to that clit,
break up with the sick cunt, I'm rich but she's broke into my wallet.

I got soul from my figertips to my toes, im saying
based on deep soul. Soul that shakes the deepest vibrations
to collapse perception, with a vast collection
of orbital discs, that when played at night pass reflections.
Scratch the surface, but first we go deeper.
Current events, funny.. now im hungry.
I grab the paper, smoke up that reefer.
Set the left in motion, get on the right n
grip the fader with devotion. Spin deep,
spin deeper n screech patterns out the reciever.