the day ur style develops u would of matured to a fetus-
u the m.c. with no lyrical sight so you'll never see us.
everything comes at a fee-thats what that fact is-
even these frees here cost u career wages like back taxes.
and i dare yall to say something dissing the kid-
when ur hardest rapper wont breath my name in his adlibs
for the mic fiends im give them there fix-
kill u before in a metaphor then murder u on the remix.
i dont care and never have-son u like ur dad-
no better yet the m.c. hotter then baghded
will blaze u next time u rhyme ull be in my shadow taking a sun bath.
and i master the craft u about as cheesy as kraft-
i present a comical delivery back slap with raps im shaft-
so presently im no joke but ur future is making the crowd laugh-
loud gasps- im the rapper u cant handle with tiatnium clasps.
as soon as the bell rings i bring verbs and words to sum up everything-
im about to CRAMP R STYLE PERIOD-u Can tell by my mood swings.
and i amass the lyrical mass and brain waves so vast when i spit this fast-
colliding with me- is like a car crash going mach speeds-
im the only m.c. with ideas serging so quick i catch nose bleeds.
the only thoughts u leak out is smoking wet to the mouth-
wrap a dollar to my dick since u ride on the money route.
and most of u think ur cute with ur 3 peace suite-
ill hit u with a 3 peace and break ur back obtuse-
these vaginal m.c. ill rip u pussies loose -
and like recycled ovaries ur garbage with everything u u produce-
wonder why i didnt diss before heres my excuse
if i cant say nothing nice then i stay quiet so play my cd on mute.
unvail the truth?ur girls a skank-on crank-
for the doe she'll let even ur pops spank.
thats not it,.... here's some shit.......
all of ur groupies are pranks-girls that use to be guys named frank.
im just trying to be phrank-i appeal to bros with what i got in the think tank-
even got hoes taking samples of the way i bust flows to the sperm bank.
u got no game a netcee but has no aim and its a shame that these lames-
diss so i take a poloroid so they can picture a loss before i rip u out the frame.
and u aint got a prayer at being a player-rhyme sayers-
think the funk is something u drown in cologmne and life savors.
uttering stuttering blunders get subjected to my hunger...
but with ur rapheal sadeeq physique-
looking like the cast for dawson creek-
its no wonder ur days are numbered to expose ur week.
when i reach the peak of my life im gonna takes my close off-
pullout and piss the world off.
and the basis is ur as ghetto as gpc and basics-
these tastless wanaa bs' dont see my rhymes confuse minds like a self loathing racist.
http://www.rapbattles.com/forum/showthread.php?t=147595
http://www.rapbattles.com/forum/showthread.php?t=147605
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