i merk with the pleather jacket stack chips and lay chicks/ hooptie whips hybrids obnoxious molotov bricks/you in jail son you cant fuck with liberation/ when you praying rations fighting anal invasions/ i'm drinking fag drinks like mobb deep and laughing at your situation/ cold hearted like omarion pulling strings like pygmalion/
first thing they teach you don't get caught you failin son/ i blow up loud noises middle east no peace dunn/
is this basicly the thread for who can say he most amount of nothing with the gr8est amount of rhyming words.
NON-IGS
caught between the essence ‘n’ tha fleshes, I shine with iridescence / though a pessimist yo, it’s all gravy yet, only if you go my way / shit’ll get grizzly in 12, 100, 48 or if it’s 16 / I swear my 16s is semis specifically in verbal delivery / hint that you should listen to me / after my sentence all I hear is screams, ‘n’ y’all ninjas bleed indeed / before tha pen squeeze I line up tha trajectory / press eject on tha cassette deck, I throw your tape away / CDs ‘n’ iPods ‘n’ hear a verse from me you swear that I’m God / cock back tha Glock ‘n’ splash vaginal cavities with tenacity / you crabs have audacious the audacity to try to battle me? laughin’, I smack you half-wits with thoughts that’s deep like 30 thousand fathoms under the sea / trade you in for a 30 cent silver piece ‘n’ a pine box casket that’s indistinct…
go to tha nearest black market ‘n’ cop these thoughts free to charge, 16 bars that flip police cars / MCs multi-cultured, youngsters wear tight jeans over their multi-colored leotards / stay a retard with your club shit ‘n’ permanent inked up mug yo, you ain’t even close to thuggin’ / I scuffle with pens in tha Cali pen hustlin’ with Whites, Blacks ‘n Mexicans / suffix tha prefix, I’m tha most pekid apex that’s pinnacle ‘n’ integral / shoot shit with Science off tha hip, my Hip Hop rips knots off tha hinges / Twisted Sheist, empty your pockets God, I heist merchandise with words of lies / immaculate verbal concepts dislodged / the impeccable threats carried past tha theoretical, …I Reginald Denny MCs like ninjas takin’ advantage of sad situations / capitulate tha mic to Science, I of the Caucasion persuasion…
set Excaliber aflame, 50 caliber’s held snug to fuckers’ faces / brushes with outlaws, brushes with Satan / verbal southpaw endowed with tha mouth of God / my physical, sharp as whips ‘n’ pistol gripped sickles, my shit is gutter / dramatic havoc is handed to faggots when fully loaded ratchets is brandished ‘cuz my trigger finger’s active / suckerpunch rappers drastic, up for 5 days from smokin’ a 16th of spegack out a glass dick / Los Angeles is a vast labyrinth ‘n’ I’m a Lost Angel growing from San Fernando Valley’s barrios to New York’s Burroughs / my purist flow is furious, win, lose or draw, I subdue rap in my Hip Hop coup d’état / I came to bring lyrics back into thoughtwaves, bitch, get on your ashy knees ‘n’ find out how my cock tastes / nympho vocalist, I spit at inappropriate times / proliferated verbals procreate Knolege, now say grace…
stab you with an iron dagger that drips swagger / rollin’ more stoned than Mick Jagger / green bowl packer MC toe tagger / smokin’ grass packed in a plastic package, more open than a faggot’s ass is/ 4 hundred carcinogens with 1 psychoactive / tetrahydro type O negative flow / do tha math, you rap crabs get passed in tha weed cipher / my greed, tha CREAM heister, MCs need a diaper / nitroglycereen explosive verses in tha codex / hypoglycemic rap Jesus reads from leaflets to teach tha heathens / breathe in chest heavin’, your sissy-ass is more queen than Latifahs as Khadijahs / I’m Livin’ Single…
point blank, I toy with Fate ‘n’ implement fatal points of hatred that discombobulate ya ninjas’ roter plates / nickel-plated flow invades your domes in throes of passion / I spurt growth with droves of verbal poems that splash you in tha nads kid / classic attraction, to pretty hags with more ass than a Kardashian bitch / captain of attackin’ crab rappers ‘n’ stabbin’ their bladders ‘n’ slashin’ in half their pancreas / snort some nasal aggravants with cans of Goya in tha cabinet / captivate crowds of a hundred thousand / pow-wow peace pipes with tha captives ‘n’ rap faggots get ousted/ vowin’ to spit like I’m from Shaolin with a dual-bladed imitation Wu-Tang sword, you’ve been warned, ignite tha stimulation / tha din’s amazin’, high decibel raisin’ / load tha clip, every 3rd’s a tracer just to keep a eye on what I’m sayin’ / till death will I be Caucasian, maxim Anglo-Saxon / in tha Last Days my brain remains way past average…
Last edited by Twisted Science; 09-20-2012 at 03:37 PM.
Originally Posted by 2PAC HOLOGRAM
I see thru your 2PAC Hologram from Mafia Land rhetoric / Science writes a different font to clean your crab thoughts with disinfectant / shots fired as life lessons, l’chaim shinin’ simonized 9 devices aim hit your head / I’ll arrive disguised to your wake, scrape you sisters ‘n’ kill your brethren / 730’s on my neck so I’ll kill my self, catch you slippin’ in Heaven / or maybe hell, trick Lucifer to buy your soul with tha new car smell / at my funeral they’ll play Wu, yours’ll sport Adele / my perdition, wicked like Wiccans with pentagram pendants / verbally lascivious, I take words ‘n’ slam ‘em up your anal while you positioned like tha bitches in Black Tail
authenticate tha Science I intimidate tha mic with / my lines’ great as leviathans, so much you wanna press rewind again to hear what Milo’s mind invents / as hype as IVs, tha rhyme squeezed makes MCs 3rd eyes bleed / what I think supersedes a chorus ‘n’ opens eyes more than Horus, Twisted ubiquitous, more wicked than 4 sixes / fillin’ Forest Lawn villages with villainous feelins that keep morticians doors gaped ‘n’ I got vicious forms of hatred that escape when I realize that I’m a mental patient tha state’s sent to incarceration / barred for life behind 16, fuck ya’ll haters ‘n’ naysayers / I guzzle Hennessy flavored white lightning…
Science, tha illest rogue renegade whose AK-47 even got a burner / I smack MCs in tha face like Ike Turner, leavin’ marks like Rick James with a heated crack pipe / when I speak I breathe flame ‘n’ scathe fuckers like Zorro with my sword, I’ll trim your cornrows / I’m from L.A. yo, I’ll chase you back to your borough / thought you was thorough but you sip Dom P ‘n’ merlot / I guzzle malt liquor ‘n’ blow bongloads / trapped in tha Belly for 12, R. Kelly’s going to hell for statutory, I use my cell as a laboratory ‘n’ construct laborious verse, you lames claim every single story’s ever been heard / regal lectures invade your sectors ‘n’ do tha legwork ‘n’ make every last hefer’s pussy tingle ‘n’ squirt /Twist, tha rap Caesar, bend fact at leisure, attack rap strapped with twin gats wearin’ a flak jacket ridin’ in a T-bird…
pain I cause, Buddha, Jesus Christ or Allah, attack tactics take flight / assault tha mic, I brought gauze / vises rhyme tight, walk into tha light / this ain’t our land, it’s Gaia’s / all you Slaves, stay United though I’m biased / most is closed-minded so I strike them with fact / 16 is 7, reliance science ‘n’ math / pathways, tha True ‘n’ Living God has ways to open opticals, ‘cuz tha truth, is unstoppable / locked in tha stockade for what I done / praise to Yahweh, listen to Sade, blaze blaze / say hello to sin, as thoughts ovulate / I call my brain fallopian ‘n’ stay inappropriate I copulate…
Last edited by Twisted Science; 10-13-2012 at 05:02 PM.
tha illest, it takes Science to raze a village down to its roots / where I begin at’s beneath tha rubber of my boots / MCs is all viral yet don’t know tha vinyl double helix spiral, tap tha spinal cords of rivals / tha flyest ‘90s revivalist sniffin’ grams outta vials of cryss, actin’ childish/ wildin’ with witty American lit, literal literary Olympian degenerate / I eat cunt like Ellen DeGeneres / I see clear like cinemas of well-developed bitches named Consuela, their melons jigglin’ / long term goal, long term bid, this shit’s ridiculous / kept locked in a cell a felon trife life in triplicate / I live to rhyme ‘n’ rhyme to express existence / a Christian dissident who’s Christ-like when his pen spits / drip drip from tha sniff sniff, drift away / hand me back tha spliff, inhale exhale, 20 bars ‘n’ clips / funky harlot, pussy stank like fish ‘n’ garbage / I’m tha God so go study Darwin, how we all evolved revolves the artist / harvest weed seasonal, trees of Knolege deemed tha tallest / Paul Bunyon on tha mic, bottom dollar bet, I’ll steal your wallet…
Knolege God cockblocks tha cipher with darts of fire / scarved up, MCs get carved up like I’m tha Thought Designer / this is hate beef ‘n’ your time’s expired / fed to tha dogs, I rep tha Gods ‘n’ exotic broads that wear bras with wires / I remain uptight for y’all hermaphrodites that’s inspired by MC Lyte, hand me tha pen, I outspit neophytes / lookin’ like I got skinny pants my gun’s so big, point blank shots ring my ears like a fat coke hit / note this, my flow’s corrosive, nuclear explosion-type slogans from a rap shogun, throwin’ 6-pointed ninja stars at ninjas’ hearts / cut tha tendons in a ninja’s arm, a prisoner of 16 bars, your shit is subpar / I keep tha mug scarved like Islamic hoes, smoke the Optimo then go shadow battle ninjas to keep a sharp dart / dual-edged, battle 2 at a time like Noah’s ark, full-fledged headbanger shit with 2 guitars / ism spliff ‘em, I lead tha rhythm / Christ has risen just to be killed again by tha illest villain Science / baptize tha mic twice, outta sight I lost my mind ‘n’ rewind tha timeline to circa 1999…
heavy iron rap, I attack Science decisive / revise tha riot act ‘cuz when I verbalize tha world gets cut in half / separate church ‘n’ state , invert birth to increase tha murder rate / scurvy dogs get chased to the edge of tha plane to see who tha God is / all these novices get lauded ‘n’ they can’t even spit if they had a saliva problem / Jesus lived after tha cross yo, he was just playin’ opossum/ slayin’ slang language, let tha flame hit miscellaneous / treasure tha glaciers of ice draped, smash tha tirade with tha iratest / came out tha lion den with David / metaphors simulate my statements in how I’m hatred jaded now thanks to 1,000 years in the state pen…
Last edited by Twisted Science; 09-24-2012 at 03:37 PM.
slow your b.p.m.s, you can’t flow when you got pms / go rep Queens, stay tha fuck up out New Orleans / hood hopper like Waka Flocka, you ain’t even from tha States / rap about fraudulent right-wingin’ / dingy broad, stay home ‘n’ make babies / take Lauren, she got preg ‘n’ lost tha hunger, now she says Mother Hubbard rhymes to her youngsters before bed / your rotund booty’s numbered, Young Money gets woozy when Science verbalize thunder…
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