ahahaha, Nice man
ahahaha, Nice man
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Synapse fired, life expired, emcees permanently retired
Antagonistic with the teeth showin, cats is back n' forth like wind blowin
Mesmorized by televised brain path that outlast the gunblast
You grandkids will still be watchin seasame street
while crack glass is STILL crushed on concrete
Chasin in circles like a dog after his own tale
You gonna need soulpower to free you, mufucaka
Post Bail
Last edited by Visionz; 01-17-2008 at 04:49 AM.
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lookin forward to crossin paths with some of the sharper blades here...
weep for lost babylon,
the bleeding god, the forgotten sheep slaughtered in a forest of evil fog
bordered by a sea of faults,
fleeing mobs turn to see the holocaust and become kings and queens of salt
screaming shots, police and chalk,
wingless fallen demons walking among us as people...
-.5Kut
You got those flows that ain’t even cipherific
My lyrics are more horrific than any horror flick/
Break ya back physically is mentality I bring in the ring
Ya got bats, I got bee stings ready strike when I cease/
Don’t get cha mind frayed like multi-colored wires
I spray brains wit more chemicals than polyurethane/
Come and bring the pain I got more methane for ya man
I’m ethical obligated to take on anything less technical/
Any emcee coming against the hyper kinetic emcee
That is me proven traditionally I can hack it wit Hercules/
Yall net emcees ain’t shit too me, my dog talks more than you see
So if you don’t have anything too say don’t type it or write it/
Don’t gimme ya best Nelly “Contry Grammer” interpretation
Don’t gimme ya best recap of everything Kool G Rap ever did/
Niggaz can’t Wikipedia that mess, ya raps at they best are just words
That haven’t been heard off the page or on a stage in front of heads/
This ain’t the same dog that ain’t been fed, this is one of the sharpest
You haven’t even seen between my lines once unsheathed my sword I unleash/
yo These Cats Fronten Acts Get Slapped Backwards
hazadous Dart Proven To Stick Fus Whats The Issue Dismis You
off The Habitat Of Rap On Contact Mics Ripped Off
vynls Spins the Title Sheek Sword Act
accord Visualise bloody Swords
many Men Wish dreams Dont Come True
4 Trumpets Throw Axe At U
WE ARE DISCUSSING THE END OF THE WORLD-OR HOW TO DELAY IT.
two weak lines will keep my cards close by
you will find out nothing till the real daggers fly...
ChatNoir.
when the real daggers fly, you'll see a faggot die, slain croakin'/
...your frame broken with the agonizing pain, chokin'/
...gaspin' for breath but death is just a minor factor/
the spine retractor, grimey rapper, fat vagina smacker/
untimely chapters in the life of a true thug/
my crew's bug, aim these two slugs at ya boo's mug/
so who, what, when and where?, I'm there in a split sec/
...fuck 9/11, y'all ain't seen no terrorist shit yet!!!
Battle raps not aimed at anyone
Fuck my enemies, enter the dragon, now enter me/
Im a heavenly entity come to cut centuries off your longevity/
didnt want the KO rule cos i attack with the force of four horsemen/
you couldnt “knock out the J.T.S.” if you were George Foreman/
i’ll rhyme a rings around you till your outlined on the pavement/
and I dont give fuck if your caucasian or half black, half asian/
fear my wrath when you hear me rap I expose the fact that/
cats wants me dead for the impact of verbal attacks, make em collapse/
too scared to battle me on the real so your still not worthy/
even when you were working at burger king you couldnt serve me/
got this feline fetish tiger suit faggot head locked in a rap/
I drove through Road Work, what makes you think I’ll stop for a cat?/
J.T.S. such a verbal athlete that my own clones can match me/
and even cancers scared to catch me, just look what the facts be/
my name says im a bit heavier but so’s 65 percent of America/
but whats more scarier is i can drop enough rhymes to bury ya/
I got this sick kitten addicted to my writens cos the flows are dope/
so i can torch the bastard and snort his ashes after he over dose/
im sick of it, this bitch should be quittin it hittin up a bit of nicorette/
i get more lovin’ than tigga get cos hes a motherfuckin hypocrite/
the shit im flippin got the the periodic table re-writen for your demise/
end ya pathetic life, strike with knives made of the element of surprise/
you just spit the same shit disses the last 50 rappers i beat did/
so prove you can do something new or take a seat kid/
Last edited by Mantra; 01-18-2008 at 11:50 AM.
My evidence, my own testament, written on wood
Twelve tribes layin at the head of corners in hoods
Hell razah
my addictive rhythms been feedin mcs since the very beginin
the dawn of all ages never exsisted until I first started spittin
my lifelife is a timeline of infinate wisdom laced in lyricism
my attitude is heated thats why the entire western hemisphere is sizzlin
Yo leave a lot cats wit mixed feelings/
whteher you love me or hate me/
I still look down you like fixed ceilings/
I distribute lyrics like its drug dealing/
Im like Wolverine...
after a battle I use quick healing
all hail the king..
I'll have yo bitch ass on the ground knealing
My evidence, my own testament, written on wood
Twelve tribes layin at the head of corners in hoods
Hell razah
everybody revealing their tactics before the game
a swordless man will always be slain.....
ChatNoir.
Not when you have different methods to your style.
My evidence, my own testament, written on wood
Twelve tribes layin at the head of corners in hoods
Hell razah
truth be told cha both right
i'll expose "visions", cause i see through the tactics
they call me mola rom (temple of doom), cause i'm known for "heart jackin"
heavy chest seepage, bring order to the chaos, leavin a "lord sheepish"
get blown like brass with " four .44s" mags nothing but 1/2 "skeleton" inside the bodybag
its sad, these garbage mcs is like brenda's "bambino"
get thrown on your head like you cheated the casino.
oooooooo yall ain't ready.
ya know, i'm like the scorpion,i hide my identity. i fight till i have no choice but to reveal my technique.Originally Posted by J.T.S.
Last edited by STYLE; 01-19-2008 at 12:33 AM.
The flows is monsterous, stoppin it? perposterous, not even in your prime like optimus, You have better luck drowin a hippotamus, The outer crust can't touch the center of the earth, I spit lava to give land birth, what's it worth? plantation of cess crops, fuck the yacht, got 40 deep and a family that gotta eat, we roll on you like wolves amongst sheep. Peeps try to master the style get smashed like imprisoned pedofiles, murder ya lawyer when he files for mistrial. He lived in denial of protectin what's evil, I bust shots have 'em jumpin like Kinevil.
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StyleMaster Who?
yo son, you mention names but won't rebuttle to this/
so fuck around git found drowned inside a puddle of piss/
wit ya brain all bludgeoned from a pipe to the crane/
you hear the chainsaw buzzin' chewing right through the veins/
the foul bastard, the automatic rapid forty-cal blaster/
...this loud cracker better have his corny 'style mastered'/
I'll dick ya shorty down and giz in her horny mouth after/
son I'm a legend in the game...got Gordie Howe stature!!!
typed this in a minute....even less, git at me if you mentioning names son!!!
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