what the fuck, do i gottta kill myself*drinks "cool-aidz" and croaks*
what the fuck, do i gottta kill myself*drinks "cool-aidz" and croaks*
"BACK TO FUKIN WERK 1 OF YOUR THREADZ JUST GOT DUSTED"
ayo I sip a forty, pickin Jordi up by his feet
lit the lye, the la la, lookin for Sicka to beat
he smelled the weed, ayo the perfect bait
seein my fuckin Jordi, he saw his certain fate
started runnin but I swung Jordi and threw em
his feet hit Sicka in the head, hahah, screw em
Jordi started cryin, I start applyin the beat down
swimmin in Jordi's blood, Sicka shit a brick and he drowned
weapon - sawed-off shotgun, HAND ON THE PUMP!
bout time...
aidz picked up the sawed off,..."is there a reason to live?".../
"yo, dat cat skale's frontin,.. U gotta do him in kid"../
so i took my shotgun an threw it on my shoulder.../
jammed out to the voices in my head till we got to Skale's "Corner".../
we said, "how much bitch?"
she said 5 so we let her in the car.../
make a long story short,...we offed the bitch right than an there par.../
pulled that trigger...skale looked kinda like a "scared Frodo" only bigger.../
opened the door goin seventy an kicked her bitchass out knowing the fall would finish her.../
yo, nice jordi rap
aflac duck
"BACK TO FUKIN WERK 1 OF YOUR THREADZ JUST GOT DUSTED"
i dont ahve a cluw wot dat is so i'll jus say anytin
deliever punchlines and metaphors to the dum muvafuka
i'll cum on ya mothers face n laff like chris tuker
with no rubber i busted up er 9 months later ur a big bruva
but dnt worry grab a pillow hold it tite and start to smuva
ur heads under the cover loosin site of reality
i'll have ur face lookin like undeveloped pregnancies
comin at u every angle with articulate weaponary
the outcome will b bloody if u fukin mess with me
magic eight ball
Bless,1
my style and flow is dark like afghanistan dungeons//
im about to blow up like seven parts of central london - Khrome Khaliba
You beatin me is physically and psychological impossible// like paraplegic patients dreamin of walkin horizontal - Khrome Khaliba
fuk a pregnant bitch my dicks so quik it makes sparks//
dipped my dik in acid and left the baby with a birthmark - Khrome Khaliba
throw the ball in a couples socks an knock the livin shit outta you nonstop...
n/w cactus
"BACK TO FUKIN WERK 1 OF YOUR THREADZ JUST GOT DUSTED"
Yo imma smack u with a cactus
Thats it im out cant find anything that rhyme wit cactus peace
ima belt u with a cactus..
.you aint a rapper bitch, your just a low budget acctress
and the fact is...ima make u swallow that plant so fuck what ya heard, u cant kill terminaidz..
fuck it.....im startin to fade...
bedtime,...adios fag
balloon
"BACK TO FUKIN WERK 1 OF YOUR THREADZ JUST GOT DUSTED"
leave u in at the deep end like a lyrical typhoon//
target u easily light from the new moon//
shine upon ur body so u never know who//
kill ya family with a katana then have ur bitch blow me like a balloon//
so soon//
u come against me askin for revenge//
i'll come at you with two fists clenched//
orange (The Fruit Not The Colour)
Bless, 1
my style and flow is dark like afghanistan dungeons//
im about to blow up like seven parts of central london - Khrome Khaliba
You beatin me is physically and psychological impossible// like paraplegic patients dreamin of walkin horizontal - Khrome Khaliba
fuk a pregnant bitch my dicks so quik it makes sparks//
dipped my dik in acid and left the baby with a birthmark - Khrome Khaliba
orange is stupid, someone kill with a Bulldozer
bulldozer
"BACK TO FUKIN WERK 1 OF YOUR THREADZ JUST GOT DUSTED"
now that the truth is out me and ur mum gettin closer
unleash my 9 inch weapon while she sukin i'll hose her
cos my lyrical content is explicit, im raw, ur a poser
a faggot ass rhymer i'll run u down with a bulldozer
then bak at ya mommas crib, she tellin me to uncloth her
little did i know the bitch is in a alcohol induced state, bitch is never sober
after i busted one on her face, i tell her, dont call me, BITCH its over
mic
my style and flow is dark like afghanistan dungeons//
im about to blow up like seven parts of central london - Khrome Khaliba
You beatin me is physically and psychological impossible// like paraplegic patients dreamin of walkin horizontal - Khrome Khaliba
fuk a pregnant bitch my dicks so quik it makes sparks//
dipped my dik in acid and left the baby with a birthmark - Khrome Khaliba
watch ya mouth boy i spit weapons// its a battle to test skill i rippa flow to kill u ant stepping// pass u the mic but then i take it back fast befor u could touch it//
ur skill is shit a lyrical twista fit im above it// bust my first and final verse with spliminal hints telling u to go the fuck home//here its ur turn....sike ur chance is blown// watch ur tone as i hit u with a deadly meta trusting the mic thru ur face till it splits the back of ur dome//
n/w mantis fist
I'll punch holes thru ya face with my mantis fist plotting holes larger than a sattellite dish 100 proof gets shook like a fish on a hook this mantis fist has ya bishop rooked
A Garden Rake
sneak up on tha ben from an unpercieved angle and spark your face wid garden rakes faces dismantled
Bits of flesh flap from tha jagged tips of death
plucked this flower bird and left a krimson mess....
TOOTHPICK
ORPHANS OF CUSH
OUT SOON
yo i stick Blak wit a toothpick, jugular collapses cuz son im too sick
grab a pack of fourty and merc twenty-two cliques
Six is ruthless, fuck around leave droolin' son you toothless
furyan be coughin toothpicks, who spits? you dissed? homie you clueless
and you be lookin like The Hellraiser, resistance is useless
throw the toothpicks faster than lazers shock you like tazers
your body in a trunk slumpin', like the Trailblazers
next weapon: Guitar String
Like a Gibson specialized wood from a les paul, hit you once with the guitars bridge like pink floyd's brick wall. "Cause we dont need no" fake white blues kings, grab the B.B.'s and cut you deep like guitar strings. Get'n beat like it's treazon cause his rhymes are buck wild, 'where the wind cries marry' cause the punishers a fuck'n voodoo child.
next weapon: The Wu Tang Manual
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