I see ya blinded badly
sadly
ya semen drunk from sucking ya own pump
ya punk...
don't no one give a fuck
if wrote the sol version of inferno
you flaming homos need to grow some moe!!!
we here to entertain the wet stains up in scorp's place...
trying get a few more flicks of izzy's face(I know...I owe you...)
you write for small tokens of appreciation
I wrote it to keep me from release smoke in fat cat's faces...
understand what separates amazing...
from those left standing n amazement...
I'll leave your solar plexus bruise and your ego emaciated...
smack you , and talk you into lovin it,
I'm the best thing to happen to for mass murder since hitler's ovens...
Red_Munkey aka the battle thread flunky
we got beef like Campbell Soup Chunky
Like Fred Sanford, your flow is just junky
you ain't Marky Mark, yo ass just funky.
YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA BOOOOOOOOOOOOY
*daps McGruber and Owl*
Fuck, and I like you...
but...
Is you gone rhyme or ride,
college dude, this ain't a meet n greet side,
its a bomb or hide...
don't you smell the famaldihide?
where are the spectator smiles
when the thread dies?
I ain't peter jennings,
but I can meet the press if the dead can't sit in...
Red Midget just another spade who can rise and fly...
But I still rise and fly...
did I miss you suburban guys?
I think we nixed spell checks in thread two...
Red lines got you thinking you're an intellectual...
Red flunkies got you thinking you could flex with dude...
Suns follow my every move,
got a bank with karmic spirits well lubed....
Well, You lubed to what da don speak
Like Cleaver, I'm on my fuck the crowd speech...
No beef...
We speak that black thought well...
art in highest spells
never misunderstanding real black men getting shit off they mental shelves...
Twelve plays, fuck R. Kelly, more like astrology
Stars glide in an orbit to appreciate me
Moe betta...
I'm like Denzel..
Ask around...
I'm sure one of my ladies friends will myth dispel....
(Walks around and gives a black man hug to all those who showed up...
Thanx Y'all...
MC G!!! Fuck You at CAT!!!!)
O-W-L, on you I won't dwell,
I came through quick raising lots of hell
last rhyme ended up as an EPIC FAIL,
If it's me and you compared, then nigga you pale
Denzel?? You wanna go to jail or go home?
Before I get hot, nigga get ya ass got, got the sawed off shot, verbally pointed at ya dome,
You KNOW I'm surgical with this bitch, how do you want it, casket closed?
Lying in a coffin with half your face exposed
This ain't checkers, its chess, call me Bobby Fisher with lyric-proof vest
Checkmate as the Black king takes the throne
King Kong ain't got shit on me,
Lyrically, I outshine every last munkey
Now to sum it all up, cause we're close to the end,
Step off akhi, before you end up like Smiley, steady gettin ya shit pushed in
*daps all the homies* *sips Goose*
Now, look at what we got here, bunch of fucking pot heads
jump to stop this motion, got crushed like cockaroaches
under size twenty prada loafers; proper vocals is what I focus on
Squeeze at you, roll up on some pokemon
Let the inf get a peek at you.
Click, *Bleep* *Bleep* It's You!
Now, I don't know what the fuck the problem is.
I was minding my biz, committing my time
to what I thought was positive.
All of a sudden, a squad of lost cousins
tossed a barrage of punches; and I'm pondering,
going, "I di-n't want to be talking this slick..."
So, it took me a minute to get a grip
on the pentip-slick witty quips slipping
from within this venom infested lyric appendage.
Disturbing his rest, is unnerving at best, burdens of stress, with murder intents, urge for revenge, thirtsting for death, thirst will get quenched, when the hurting mentioned, hurls at your chest. Imper-vi-ous to any spur of defense.
Worthless, it's just, every other person requests
a verse to just dead, every nerve in their head.
Regret isn't shared, for his profession's to care
for lesser beings, attempting to get a breath of fresh air.
Sever their necks, if ever they stretch up to get to right here.
Rap with confidence, don't back up off of it.
Do what the fuck you want, just give me back my oxygen.
Whack Non-sense bred, "Can't-drop-a-gem"
Stand Up Guy needs to fall back and stop living.
I'm being followed by a team of, wanna-be Marine thugs
from what I can see, one of them got Diabetes.
Powerful Stealth; you'll get showered and pelted
with the latest in Spy of the Year, stylish-weapons.
Dressing to kill, avoiding mirrors at any fortune's cost.
Corridors corroding from corpses that exploded
Bowels and their organs, dangle from their donors.
Feast is concluded; "Thank you for your offers.
Everything was great, I'm anxious for next harvest."
Bump what you dummies think, you could be a Cannon,
and still couldn't fuck with Mi.
Proving my worth, is it worth to show & prove so much?
"Find our Directory, two flo's up."
I'm matching the average capacity of any rap deliverer.
I Permeate writer's block with a vengeance for precision.
Don't stress for recognition but I press for deadly rhythms.
Exceptionally gifted, at alphabet-letter positioning.
Truth be told, these words are a bit too bold,
for I never hold these symbols in common convo with my people.
How can you live with yourself? By the time you get any wealth,
We'll have video footage of winter in hell.
My presence is so enlightening, a short glimpse of him
can make a blind man squint his eyes a bit.
Get straight to the Jugular, grip around your throat is collar-free.
My idolatry has become what funds a local Dollar-Tree.
The contents of my food for thought ain't to be eaten.
In the Misty Land of neutrality,
16 from his voice could break a Peace Treaty.
A soft exhale ignites the fumes of tension in a room full of heroine businessmen, accompanying them,
is a bunch of machine guns, ending up in a mess of things.
I latch flames to mad Haze.
Dump grey garbage, make you beg for it,
and eat it from the ash tray.
That's about as nasty as he spits with it.
At this point, from you amateur lyricists
I wouldn't even be astounded by your whack rendition of classic literature.
