***RW $100 End of tourney cypher***

I've got more style than Flaubert when I write with the flair of Francois de Voltaire to define modern life like Charles Baudelaire.
You're still reading Byron? That's rare. Are you a Vicodin heir reclined in a chair or a child that's in care by a Chinese au pair?
Or a 19th century pirate with sight that's impaired? Guess that's why you get scared when brothers Wright out of thin air.
And that's a nice try, but I ain't a Marxist, mon frere. Why, do you ask? Cuz I ain't on oxy, moron. That's why I own shares.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by TheShaman

I've got desires and needs only the throbbing member of another man can satisfy

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You're a vegan except for your hunger for guys gravies,
no maybes and no, you cannot bear babies.

Stop asking to be impregnated, your needs are fabricated.
You're going to sass until your derriere is desecrated.

You firmly believe the solution to your problems are throbbers.
You steal semen samples at a clinic and call yourself bank robber.

You dont pick up his calls unless he is offering sex.
You lost your posterior virginity like you lose battles of word, mind, and text.


Post Script Prediction- @TheShaman will reply with something effeminate and pointless, guaranteed.

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Post Script Prediction- @TheShaman will only be able to comfort himself with several nude sailors.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by TheShaman

I've got more style than Flaubert when I write with the flair of Francois de Voltaire to define modern life like Charles Baudelaire.
[…]
And that's a nice try, but I ain't a Marxist, mon frere. Why, do you ask? Cuz I ain't on oxy, moron. That's why I own shares.

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Yo lemme check my pseudo-intellectual battle rapper bingo card…
TheShaman mentioning Voltaire, thinking that shit goes hard
Bingo!

You’re not rich you’re a fucking hobo, you’ve not got shares (/Cher’s) like Sonny Bono when she went fucking solo, and that shit’s a lot…
I’mma cut you up and shove your body in the biggest pot, boiling your bones since you said you’re getting into stocks.

Yo Virb, if you ever killed The Shaman, you'd get the 30 for going against your God like Judas.
Cuz I do this for myself. So if I'm ghost writing it's the Posthumous Memoirs of Bras Cubas.
I don't care what you think is hard. You're all the same like Norman Bates' business cards.
But I'm full of goodwill. So when I pick up chicks in bars, homie's like "My boy's wicked smart!"

This like the ending of the second gospel, we’ll see this mark suffer.
Bro you compared me to Judas? what a daft fucker.
Witness it, I’ll win this shit and profit off it, keep calm brother,
This something I’mma go to the goddamn bank-wit’, like the last supper.

My demons got advocates so sleazy and adament they could make the Christian protagonist Jesus of Nazareth appear in the Vatican and kneel to a Catholic priest in the chapel, receiving the sacrament by kissing his hand and admitting the fact that the leading evangelists Peter and Matthew were secretly faggots, and that his feet had her hair on them cuz him and Iscariot took turns skeeting on Magdalene. Yo, I'm beating a flagellant cuz you're clearly a masochist if you believe in that sack of shit they be feeding the pastorates. The only way you'll be meeting your banker's if you're dealing with scams from a city in Bangladesh. So it ain't the last supper just cuz I'm drinking a Sazerac and eating this Bag of chips.

For a second I thought dude was coming back, and then I realized this dude doesn't know how to rap.

He rhymes wow every third or fourth count, His shots are like two kids playing nerf at your house.

To say the least It's at least comedic. It's the work of a stand-up comic slash paraplegic.

Simply put you're just a random plethora of thought. With so much A.D.D you look like Angelicas doll.

Motion So "dull" they can't even see you in the back row, they're forty feet in the air, yeah you are that small.

having to read this faggot’s lyrics has left me distraught.. i’m weak, b.
rap requires suspension of disbelief.. but to see you as a Main Character or even an MC? requires all thoughts to halt completely
you wanna talk about back rows asshole? well that’s where we load these weapons..
approach bro aggressing, blows connecting you hear his bones compressing… & that’s how i turn wherever you’re seated to the nosebleed section…