Lil D' \\//s. T-cypha
T-CYPHA's Verse in blue
aight
unimited bars..first to 5 wins-3 votes is a knockout
holla...you bout to get ripped quick fag/
with spits that, pack ya down like my nick bags/
I smack you clowns with my dick bad/
im bout ta leave ya skin more red then sinbad's/
this battle for you.... is no fair.... like a stripped cab/
or a model with no hair.... and ha' tits sag/
tha shit~that you talk is what gets a bitch gagged/
in tha broad day light.... or when tha sky's pitch black/
I eat MC's daily.... it's keepin' my shit phat!/
go head an try to serve me.... you'll juss get ya dish cracked/
ya not a fighter your a whiner.... I'll shit on your bit raps/
im comin up the board, ive been climbin tha vine/
you a lyrical McRuff.... you take a bite outta rhymes/
you put tha wack in.... an take tha tyte out of lines/
but tha thing is.... you'll never take tha tyte outta mine/
I got thought's in my brain, that get caught up in pain/
I hopped in tha game, not afraid.... to take shots to tha frame/
you got to be mamed, ima true soldier that'll run ya whole crew over/
battlin me's like puttin tha weight of tha world on ya two shoulders/
that's heavy.... I hope you gotcha gat ready/
cuz you gettin ya raps shredded.... yes my shits that deadly/
i'll even blast caps at a club in a packed setting/
I gotcha pack dredding, cuz you a pussy-u act petty/
im tha type to beat you with naked knuckles/
cuz ya filled with hate you crumble, I see that your fake, and chuckle/
when im done.... you better rhyme son
use ya mind gun, an shoot tha nine once!!............ 'Lil Bitch, you define: PUNK : ....
hold up...im t-cypha-exceptin all challengers'-you couldnt get date-if you was on the front o a calender...
a few more...
im too nice-you spit mcdonald rhymes/you couldnt get a "w" spittin mcdonald signs/
its hot dog-in the kitchen im throwin everything but the kitchen sink/the maord payin ya to "sell out", like nas to murder inc...holla
Lil D's verse in Red
oh my god is this emcee serious?/
t-cypha must be delirious/
to come at me wit whack preschool lines, he gotta elementary mind/
decipher t-cypha and hang his corpse on my clothes line/
warp ya rhymes and spitem back at you/
couldn't run up on me, cuz you couldn't afford shoes/
i seen you bitch, tryin to come hard cuz you cry when you lose/
no man up against me this time/
no man, just a gurl wit no spine/
this is a joke you see/
i'm a pimp this mc hors the streets for me/
his momma, his daddy, go way back in the family tree/
and you'll see red smacks upon all 4 of they cheeks/
fuck the family ova', leave'm in they trailer park wit STDS/
saw me and saw god, made them believe/
keep suckin and fuckin, leave the rap game to me/
poisin this mc/
wit my illness come back and puncture the IV/
i take yo life without a second thought, easily/
split you like microsoft, and like slaves sold you off cheaply/
