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Got raps in mills, and guns for ya grills, dental blown with blue steel
Life is too short, i'm too real, my culture power drills
Match the war gear, in war feared, fearless in here
Bandits bagged, after being grabbed and gagged, burn they flags
Pay a fiend off to spray their lab, catch dad with the mag while he urinating
ten i'm out to not be mistaken by pigs in siren blaring transportation
sumtin' like a 12 gauge, what i display on the page
lay flowers on the graves of lames fakin' da flav
what the people crave is that real nowadays
niggaz jus like lil wanye, have bottles chucked at the stage
camp fire writer, yo im close to the flame
trained in war games, sun tzu was my name
veins all itchin', dope music ease my pain
i shoot up cuts, mix tapes is like cocain
come hang wit the resident evil
i make mcs disappear, become myths like da 5th beatle
get cha people, 100 to one, its equal
ill son'em all like i follow mormon teachings
pass out beatings via audio streamings
defeated local yokels to the illest in sweden
the handle lends credence, murks means business
the black joss whedon, pen slayer vengeance
The game is mine, got it locked like Shyne
You dumber than Martin, i'll jump rope on ya spine
Shoot dice when i'm high, bust nuts in a hoes eye
Throwing emcee's off roofs for saying their so fly
Enemies of mine ain't got no time
You got bitches but their no dimes
Beat a bandit to death
Bat to the skull, followed by a close line
Pistol whip my foes, crime
Axe to ya head, to expose ya mind
Smoking more niggas than one-time
niggaz stackin' in B rags ollin in a clean jag
prune juice interior pussy nigga mean that
mind ya mannaz fo i pop hammaz
ransom the gram handlaz
black rag is my bandanna
alotta niggaz claim they bangin' me i just dont
bu the differance is i let off nigga you wont
so in the mean while i freestyle like the fellowship
hello bitch pulled up in a yellow whip
yellow wrist chekk out da yellow chicks
grippin fifths to let off a hella shit
i dont rep no shit C or B
but i thrown a few signz and i know a few B'z
plus i flow wit sum c'z blowin that weed
fuk ya creed my army is me
R is what the hawk is rated
i scream on niggas like monster incorporated
write a few rhymes do a few lines
shawty passed out but the ho still fine
baggin up dimes time to shine
hop out the whipe to commt the crime
4-5 to ya head ruger on his gutta shit
hoe niggas on they mutter shit
my uzi on that stutter shit
i dont give a fuk bout dat other bitch
bricks on the butter shit
kicks is crack ya tracks r wack
they aint lyin when they say my mac is action packed
sittin on kloud 9 high as a kizzite
red like a stop lizzite ht the strip and get rizzite
real hiphop is now scarce, rappers done got too garish
leading those thats esoteric to perish
in irreverence
as good as musics gets that get spent
on the radio its pathetically average
fans is now fanatics, acting out in hysterics
they favorite mc dizzied by enough karats
to feed a husk of hare
i dont care if you on your grizzly unless your riding bare back on a bear
my parents didnt raise me well, they wasnt there
claire huxtable answered my prayers, when life was hell
the tell tale heart, underground thumps
below raps floor boards cause they killing off art
keep'em in the dark, talk that gangsta, gangsta
keep fill'em with that ol' angst and anger
make'em wanna be those strangers that hang tough with thugs
and make music for clubs to entertain us
fuck dat, get on them books and go to cambridge
the box is here, im thinking outside like where the rain is
its big things poppin' and its deeper than pockets
when all that ballaholic non sense leak in to your subconscious
and you find yourself surrounded by ass clowns acting raucous
the artist aint so much at fault its the consumers who cop it
and i can just do me and make crack pot comments
that you preceive as being jealous, just telling you where my head is
niceQuote:
Originally Posted by murkoutz
When anger is felt i beat rivals with my belt
Laughing while lashings give slashing, for not having knowledge of self
For that act of arrogance run your wealth
Rats love that song "It ain't hard to tell"
Rhymes so stale, u better bail, your battling a general
Send your men to fail, aftermath, closed casket funeral
I'll live well and die happy, that I'm not wack like Lil Scrappy
Right, and exact, exactly refined, divine status, and shine
U can't see me in a battle, blind man rhyming blind
salte ya cerebral with these lyrics of evil
Meet you at the crossroads with them Bone Thugs
And shed blood of you and your goon thugs
I'm underground unplugged
slunk low in the tahoe so niggaz dont notice him
hand wrapped around the jammy, eyes red and focusing
"how money gonna play me like ps3? he not knowing
im a v.e.t." that what he thinks
closing in from the east, a white grand marquis
the target but whos that sparking in the passenger seat?
a barbie look like light skin, petite
"fuck it, im gonna have to snuff her off of g.p."
he peeped as they parked and walked to the front door
too early in the evening to do the hit on the front porch
waited ten minutes, hopped out, weapon concealed and
looked around quick before he dipped to da back of the building
the lights was on in the kitchen, he could smell fish
glimpse thru the window, saw old girl working the skillet
kicked in the back door clapping the biscuit
she caught 3 in the titty, fell on the stove and went limp
homey stormed down the stairs "fuck is this shit?"
dub duce spitting out lead and not a bullet hit
"remember me?" our hero blurted out from around the door frame
"you sold me that shitty cocaine"
"i had a name in atl before you fucked my sells. the ol' switch-a-roo,
you knew shit wasnt the real"
Line livin', driven edge seat bewilderin'Quote:
Right, and exact, exactly refined, divine status, and shine
Wildin' style an', mild psycho child
I might flow loud, or soft coughin'
Coffin' cuffed, luck runs a bluff
Tough scuffed, workin' stuff
Lurkin' huffed drunk, stunk blurred and stuff
I thunk heard as much, what?
Fuck, buckin' back-asswards
Clash hard then forget fast, tard
Massed sard-ines, Marine morphine fiends
Card Queens quit, Jack jumped the split
King seems ripped, crack Ace thumped and shit a brick
Hope you don't mind I sorta jumped in on the last word in your line and threw in my own kind of shit. I thought that one line of yours was fucking tight as fuck. Whole verse was pretty nasty. Nice shit dude. Glad I popped back in on this shit.
Ain't nothing crunk about the kid, two step this fist in ya wigs
Intestines gutted out, batters up blow cracking em ribs
Right hook upper cut connection, unbelievable i'm notorious to the pigs
no story is this, gory misfit, misbehaving when i take too may sips
act up close shop, Run ya throne i got the chrome cocked
Telling you, and ya man's fam the wackness don't stop
All ya'll joining Pac, By the way run them keys i'll let you out the headlock
Good looking on the big up Acid peace!
My flows like the electicution used in executions
Im the new solution.. pop u like a fuse, ya ruined!
'n ya out of time just like a truent student
leave ya fluids oozin' when my uzi's spewin
cuz the fued is brewin.. catch a hot one
Im speakin fast as the cats in auctions
blastin gats as often as a marksman
contracted for manufacturin' coffins
i spit disasterous toxins.. cuz King be venemous
and im up in ya grill like the dentist is
my rhyme replenishes.. proper nutrition
ill twist your bones in akward positions
heard them shits pop n ya pissin
all up on yaself cuz son ya got dealt
enuff heat held i could make a rock melt
rocks meltin ya brain, numbin ya pain but u aint see whats goin on
while u smoke your life away these weed puffers is rollin on-
some fuckin blunts or some fuckin chumps that wanna test
see if u still superman when i carve an s on ya chest
aint messed with this stress see this hydro got my mind thoed
fuck a rhyme flow, im bout that cash flow, im gettin mine bro
let tha nine blow on this pimp then u better finish the job bwoy
we aint cool, u gon get burnd up fuckin with this hot bwoy
it dont stop bwoy, rippin u, get split in two from 4 shots bwoy
from the shot riddim u dance, shittin yo pants, layin in ya own slop bwoy
u lil weed fellas gon get choppd bwoy, when these killas roll up
with nuff heat to spark u up, your whole clickll get smoked up
im smokin out with my dick pokin out plus my nuts hangin
im a slut bangin lil playa down to bust my big cannon
7 inches in yo mouth plus yo ass til i blast lil mama
then im out with yo cash, for that i wont ask lil mama
im buckin' yall foo's... til no man in ya crew is left
not even jesus can save you from your gruesome death
im lucifer in the flesh.. wings stretch from my shoulder blades
thus reshapin' my body like moldin' clay...either fold or play
another soldier is slayed... burnin' corpses smolder away
ashes to ashes.. im burryin' ya children alive in the casket
lyin' next to your cold body... they cry as they grasp it
inspired classics... while im diggin my fist through they're entrails
the life your livin's in hell... drinkin' piss from a tin pail
shivers climin.. up the back of ya spine when im rhymin'
i drink blood with a carcass of swine for dinin'
crushin' souls like the force of forty mountains of anvils
sacrificial offerings .. glowin over a thousand candles
fuck with some scented candles bitch im no joke
yall hoes choke, got more than dro smoke in yo throat
my dick so dope, hard white from a real cracka cracka
a rapper slappin pistol packa that known for his big ass sacka
bitch step backa, tricks get battered by this lil gorilla pimp
heads get shattered, brains splatterd to show how ill a killa get
leave a hater wet like i forgot to put that bitch in the dryer
and fuck u french ass faggots when i gotta put ya click in the fryer
monsieur patate, aint gettin nothin but bullet holes thru ya hat
who the rat-atouille, this aint no disney shit bro, rat-a-tat
get busy trick, ho need to get up on some dick or scat
get you a grip, bitches slip and fall and heads get cracked
im causin more accidents than faulty breaks fuckin with these hoes
gotta get green though, puffin on weed yo, thats everyday amigo
cuttin up weak hoes with jail mans thats been Bone-n-Thugs
so bitch run, aint no Harmony, yo lil ass'll catch more than slugs
how cats gonna rap about asscrack stashes and assplugs?
I thunderclap fashion thugs
my havoc has valleys black with blood
muzzle flashes as fast as slugs
bastards lack a mother's love
and you slackers nap, backs plastered with mud