" gay"....... i'll see guys later........
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" gay"....... i'll see guys later........
ya namez unreadable..lame..defeatable..u spit 2 when itz a 1 speakable..Quote:
Originally Posted by rsymyn
Team is Elite ya Know.. so don't Beef or get Freezer Cold
(freezer burn)? hehe fuck it
Im set to Pop.. cuz acher rep da vest n' da glock.. Connect the dots...them shots'll make a Mess a da Spot
Pee on her Sweater... bitch, whateva... Slap her up wit straps of Leather.. then my Ox'll be-head her.. off wit her cheddarQuote:
Originally Posted by SpOk3N
I've burned in da depts of hell and when I came back MC'S spits evaporate like butter in Arizona on a metal bell
No other M.C. sword can penetrate da armored shell that is my mind can't ever fluster me,
You can call me a gravedigga by strikin your brain at a 90 degree angle I let it be free,
Just look at my rhymes, you gotta scratch beneath da surface don't be blind,
It will take da ignorant long like da idiots try and decipher da davinci code,
Its gonna take more than water to make my rocks erode
Not Her ... Her .. That Mami... Damn Im Sorry... Is She Dark... Is... Sorry That Body Type... Too Much... Too Much 4 Me.. I Have To Take Her Take Her For You ,... From You... Its Like Me In .. 2004... In Two Thousand Five... I I Was Too Young... Right Now A Jolly Rancher .. Stuck Not In My Gums... In Between My Tooth.. In Between My Teeth... On It.. A Green One.. . A Donut... I Haven't Not I Haven't Drank.. I Havent Had A Drink Of Protein.. Something Like .. The Way.. A Girl My Girl.. Would Show.. Me Her .. ... Moving Her Underwear To The Side... Giving Me A Look.. Im The Camera... Talking About The Same Things... To Survive.. Survive... A Striped... Phat Farm Shirt Polo.. Thrown On The Couch...
like cats that crouch to pounce on a mouse, the eight-legged devil resides in my mouth, I spit venom in your pupils, multi-colored visuals white-out, the heavyweight pugilist champions diversity, as clock hands and nine planets rotate 360
to reduce serious injury, always study what it takes to be an emcee, careful microphone techniques slowly like Tai-Chi
By channelin chakra through da arms an into da sword I strike once and end all shapes and forms of war,
The metaphors practice yoga kundalini, I'm thinkin outside of the box just like whodini
Makin da heavy weight trash talkerz disappear cuz they just talk and don't know any thing of how to handle da God given sword so they always live in fear
Never near the divine state of mind, far from Salomen's mine, confused munching on pork rinds
in a state of new york mind, pop my eye towards the wine bottle and left the cork blind.