SkellaTon Official

[jahnyjigler]

hold the racket lethal weapons?couldnt swat a smurf with a ratchet
blue sky black death my turf holy terms souls on the market
sole survivor drivebys n shootouts i skate through hell
burn flames Xgames mcs flip n crash skirts exposed tampons
rip yo death extract yo mind devour answers
eat you slow absorb nutrients leakin bladders multiple cancers
adrenalin stab to yo chest wake up its only freddie
weed the weak light em up puff on em bad boys for a week
formular 1 hi-speed on a track this Hamilton-is a twista
gorrillas in the mist u punching bags caught in the fog hey Mr
Dj spin this back Beatles i think devils on tha song.

[jahnyjigler]

drapped in blood stil i battle oñ cut but barely bruised
ipad the cruiseship through mud titanic this iceberg amused
guard yo chest even the God of War evacuating his nest
i cradle with angles mount olympius baby bottled Zues
punching bags hands are loose fist curve yo brains in medula juice
War Unites-Tactical Anilitical Ninjas Germ spread WuTang killer bees
the world on its knees? No the solar system begging please
not even the wages of sin could pay for yõur fees
i school these kids little fishes in the sea
food for thougt only maids dõ dishes the holy ghost praying for wishes
you need faith miss Evans im worth the wait un- buckled my belt
no air bags i survived yo crash at the core of the sun no heat was felt
my cold cobra clutch melt contendors claiming they pack heat.

[BornPower]

hold the racket lethal weapons?couldnt swat a smurf with a ratchet
blue sky black death my turf holy terms souls on the market
sole survivor drivebys n shootouts i skate through hell
burn flames Xgames mcs flip n crash skirts exposed tampons
rip yo death extract yo mind devour answers
eat you slow absorb nutrients leakin bladders multiple cancers
adrenalin stab to yo chest wake up its only freddie
weed the weak light em up puff on em bad boys for a week
formular 1 hi-speed on a track this Hamilton-is a twista
gorrillas in the mist u punching bags caught in the fog hey Mr
Dj spin this back Beatles i think devils on tha song.

drapped in blood stil i battle oñ cut but barely bruised
ipad the cruiseship through mud titanic this iceberg amused
guard yo chest even the God of War evacuating his nest
i cradle with angles mount olympius baby bottled Zues
punching bags hands are loose fist curve yo brains in medula juice
War Unites-Tactical Anilitical Ninjas Germ spread WuTang killer bees
the world on its knees? No the solar system begging please
not even the wages of sin could pay for yõur fees
i school these kids little fishes in the sea
food for thougt only maids dõ dishes the holy ghost praying for wishes
you need faith miss Evans im worth the wait un- buckled my belt
no air bags i survived yo crash at the core of the sun no heat was felt
my cold cobra clutch melt contendors claiming they pack heat.

no kid gloves can damage me,
I'm Danny cannons against your Gibson seeds and kiddie calamaties
thick scripts trip skater bids on my paved streets,
unknown games get stoned by raging seas and grown man agencies
my programs gain speed by overstanding graded knowns and solutions,
instead of notes and grooves I penned explosions and confusion
sent in smoke to classrooms and students,
the gifted distance themselves from toking on brown bruises and broken substitutes
even if enemies came against me trained, draped and drenched
their shapes are easily cut, measured and stitched by this god, weathered and bent
Death's wages are not easily paid, but spent in angry ignorance
to be awake is a gift while you ache to have your brain twisted....

[jahnyjigler]

my brain is already twisted my hair taking turn u can now call me dredy /who sleeps when babylon weeps im constantly Crystalising a Lot of salt / listen demigod im from the land of the lost aint no demigod's over here /guerilla warfare im blinding you with flair this aint even fair u trapped in my lair /floss and taunt im the ghost who haunts close that vanity fare /exposed don fuck with me i know you just hit menopause /the clock is ticking no its a bomb thats clicking /whose next on my roaster rhymes are heat seeking /wingless fallen demons still teething flightless sins i mock em with real beatings

[BornPower]

my brain is already twisted my hair taking turn u can now call me dredy
who sleeps when babylon weeps im constantly Crystalising a Lot of salt listen demigod im from the land of the lost aint no demigod's over here guerilla warfare im blinding you with flair this aint even fair u trapped in my lair
floss and taunt im the ghost who haunts close that vanity fare
exposed don fuck with me i know you just hit menopause
the clock is ticking no its a bomb thats clicking
whose next on my roaster rhymes are heat seeking
wingless fallen demons still teething flightless sins i mock em with real beatings

You crowd me with moldy teeth and crown me with your atrocious schemes,
how dare you approach the regime and howl when your soul is bereaved?
I am bones and leaves, the stone no one believed in,
there is no poaching in my trees, I dispose of grossly deceived heathens
I am the rotation of seasons, grown impatient at your bleatings
my shadows are cold and embrace your fake teachings,
what awareness is there in mocking an elemental of the air you're breathing?
stare at seething waters and see the message get garbled,
I stitch mountains with bleeding garters,
chips fountain and become weeping seas of uneven marble....

[jahnyjigler]

misintepretation wingless fallen demons i mock them with real beatings
take them to haven shock them with real teachings
purify demoms preachings and sermons
crystalise a LOT of salt turn sour defomities to spirit
evil may devour the body the war rages on
my fort biblical by deceipt cannever be torn
tempted by battle well fought now its time to move on
the body has needs the spirit for eternity fights that greed

[wutangcuz]

dj paul

my mic lines power the CHI skyline
travel my lifetime in an hour
towering over white lines
cowards spit the wildest lies
while the powder's lit by my design
no blueprint
but each line's precise movement
is rooted in script
no crew to defend
I, soldier boot trenches
new recruit suited to penmanship
clansmen with digital cannons gripped
leave panic stricken foes pissin in clothes
kevlar panelin encrypted in the minister's robes
hard handed, one finger cracks bone
tree branch rappers I snap in the cold
then advance trackless in the snow

[BornPower]

I am the right hand of god,
a lighting rod for minds scrawled in shiny scarlet stitches
a blinding artist's depiction of a heartless scribbler,
a print-less picture of Lucifer's strength and Samson's scripture ingrained
pinned against a priest's pride and a pen's pain,
experience gained stiffens my twisted spine straight
my mind races itself,
any rage felt is chained to a page of wealth,
I serve cold dishes, appropriate for a soul's grace in hell
my rotation on this board game is compelled
by a forward-facing formation of armored men and shells
darts spin and cause skin to melt,
there were once a hundred angels, then ten fell
first four, then a fifth were dedicated
to justice, their scriptures drenched in hatred
one was born to carry Lot's load and was buried in Chicago
raised from a tombstone with two faces,
my coded rage fueled my cruel patience,
fools and their pride become my new pile of patients
spools of wire become inside replacements,
human blades twisted into dual vines and wine-grapes,
in a lifetime of hate I've always welcomed the fiery lakes....

[SHEEPISH LORD OF CHAOS]

I am the right hand of god,
a lighting rod for minds scrawled in shiny scarlet stitches
a blinding artist's depiction of a heartless scribbler,
a print-less picture of Lucifer's strength and Samson's scripture ingrained
pinned against a priest's pride and a pen's pain,
experience gained stiffens my twisted spine straight
my mind races itself,
any rage felt is chained to a page of wealth,
I serve cold dishes, appropriate for a soul's grace in hell
my rotation on this board game is compelled
by a forward-facing formation of armored men and shells
darts spin and cause skin to melt,
there were once a hundred angels, then ten fell
first four, then a fifth were dedicated
to justice, their scriptures drenched in hatred
one was born to carry Lot's load and was buried in Chicago
raised from a tombstone with two faces,
my coded rage fueled my cruel patience,
fools and their pride become my new pile of patients
spools of wire become inside replacements,
human blades twisted into dual vines and wine-grapes,
in a lifetime of hate I've always welcomed the fiery lakes....

damn cut u went in homes

[BornPower]

damn cut u went in homes

thanks sheep, just some old shit in my notebook i had to get out there.

[ChristO]

...right, right...

[BornPower]

I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF

unlace crusty stitches
in this reign the mud is relentless,
gunless midgets plugged in with Kobayashi intentions
washed of a god's strength and robbed of all wisdom,
big balls, scripts and bombs are dropped in ponds as prescriptions
pop pills on watching civilians
witness my mobs of killers realizing their LIMITLESS potentials
millions of missiles, digits and tissues
stitched in a series of serious visuals, from my screen to your living rooms
limping rulers spewing rivers of twisted bolts,
truth delivered by grinning ghosts, throttle darts with gripping posts
this walk is ripping robes, dripping gold from distant scrolls
penned by chipping bones,
this flesh is weak and temperature's cold
I blend winters with hidden codes and sip their souls,
build artKIText roads and never rest in my role

[SKAMPOE]

i like this guy^
sick fukin wiriting

[BornPower]

i like this guy^
sick fukin wiriting

Thanks Skam. like i said, i couldn't help myself

Wu-Tang

[BornPower]

I USED THE INF VS SINAPSE INSTRUMENTAL FOR THIS ONE

Invade Norman B.'s beaches with my swords, steel and procedures
watch hardcore streets get bored, sealed and breached
by swarms of inked creatures eager to feast on M.C.'s
we are beasts on any beats,
rapid release, feed on data-links
crafted on pads and leaves, this is my stab at a madman's scream
this life is a bad dream,
this lie of Black Kings I can't awake from
pitching die, my path bleeds beneath designated guns
this native sun, treading safely upon serrated tongues,
I peddle crates drug from elemental pages elevated in blood,
I pen hatred in love
paint destruction and lust as I rain gently on the Earth's crust
stitch murder and trust,
spit these grisly images until I'm twisted and dust,
with no cents sent to us we give your senses a rush
over these instruments my soul repents of no sins,
in this foul Pit, beneath my bent cowl I am the Pendulum
scribbled in rum red, the slug's tread is spread evenly
this one looks done, dead-
I guess this is A Hell of an Evening