Stop writin random bullshit an put some thought into yo shit/
stop frontin like you kickin it u know your in a shit fit/
stop actin like you dont buy proactive cuz your face is one huge zit/
Ive heard it day in an day out yall aint gangsta playas or pimps/
you talk smack like your hardcore an you think you fly walkin wit a limp/
Imma be honest C-Master your rhymes look like 'This is 50' after 'P.I.M.P.'/
imma be real wit you here take a time out an go write you some new shit because right now your goin out lookin like a kid whos pussy-whipped/
imma be real wit you an show you mah lil black book cuz I can give you some hook ups if you stop actin on DeathBlow like you aint ever seen a ***/
Look at these bars I aint frontin im prolly not da greatest but I dont go out like 50 givin da fans a half-assed record bout some random garbage an after yo fake ass high die down maybe you can get da school nurse to get you some first-aid/
You an 50 should hook up you both rhyme like shit funny thing is though an da difference between you two he gets paid an you prolly never even been laid
I gave it another shot :/ sorry C-Master
__________________ Feel free to shop at any T.J.Maxx other than mine.
Last edited by JToTheP on Sep 6th, 2005 at 05:32 PM
man where are you getting these lyrics
are you getting them from the toilet
their all shit, I hate to spoil it
hey kid do you want to hear something dramatic
your rhymes are as old as hitlers chapstick
my lyrics will dissolve you like sulfuric acid
your rhymes are like pamela's boobs, eighty percent plastic
in other word their fake, you made a mistake
after everybodys lyrics own you your not going to have any faith
Dr Octagon can defeat you with a headache
his first line puts your whole rap to shame
you need to pack your bags and take a step out of this game
just like fitty, your rhymes are lame
Im done for today, time to let Inspecta deck finish you off
your dick is so small you need a magnifying glass and a pair of tweezers to whack off
its over man, dont even spit any rhymes, your a fool
you drop ryhmes like soap
seeing whos the next to bone you
this battle is over, the war is won and you lost
you looked shocked, frozen in fear like jack frost
you got shook so bad your going to need a cross
your going to need a miracle to save you from this lost
in this game your an amature and Im the boss
clean your rhymes up, you might need to floss
your lyrics are stuck between your teeth
time for you to bow down to the KMC fleet
Im done now fool your already hiding under them sheets
your so destroyed, like an earthquake just met the streets
Welcome to the battle, and you didn't get drafted/
glad you picked a fight glad you asked for your ass whipped/
I punch you in the face and teach you how to do backflips/
you stay jockin a dude I'ma call you asslips/
Asslips you need to stop kissing butt for real/
in slaughtermore that will get you beat up for real/
We all know that your a jail sl^t for real/
thats why you worried about my nuts what the f**k is the deal/
you get bitches, well I mack hoes/
I 'm sticking and getting licked, while you're kissing on the phone/
don't need her number in a book, cause your mom is alway home/
while youre outside playing boss, we in the house playin bones/
I only have to be twenty percent real to get on you/
you 80% porcelain, I shit on you/
with an ass on your face, you suck down doo-doo/
thats why a bowl of cocoa puffs makes you go cuckoo/
talk about fake, you ask for that name, did he let you have it?/
you were owned by david cop-a-feel and he showed you his magic/
each word is like a nail driven into your casket/
you'll die with dental dam in youre throat, hows that for plastic?/
You're all washed up but ain't have a chance to get dirty/
a 90210 actor playing a teen in your thirties/
asslips smackin on butts, i bet you get thirsty/
you need to use that chapstick, your chapped lips might hurt me/
you're a yes-sir type of yes-man,booty scratching suck-up/
you should continue being a bitc*,sucking dick and shutting the fuc* up/
Last edited by FREAKY CAL on Sep 8th, 2005 at 04:37 AM
Welcome to hell imma be yo satan for the day/
you spit random garbage which nobody would find hot except cash money records who could put out 9 cds without any pay/
tell me if you think i spit venom when i get behind the mic an spit tonight while you in the airport in coach toilet screamin get the f*ck outta ma way/
I'm known in the East for my dick shit is like a whip i snatch 'em back an forth like it aint nuttin stop frontin wit yo pencil dick you b*tch/
yeah your madd cuz I gave yo girl the wicked twitch she ridin up an down like a criminal wit a switch blade who got yo momma to switch dicks from a 6 to a 16 inch/
im crazy when I spit you wouldnt wanna answer this be honest your style is abolished your f*ckin wit the wrong one here wit how I write it so well I make it look like its a cinch/
but it aint easy you gotta have skills no not like your sister wit the ladies oh you didnt know she was a big dyke well thats yo fault she turned dyke when she saw you ridin yo big wheel bike while i slam dunk her in the mouth like it aint 'Nuttin but a G thang' an act almost as wild an crazy as 'Stephen Lynch' is/
yo house aint safe in ma realm step up chump lets see who throw the last bar who gets the hottest car an who can survive this lyrical war/
this aint a game what im spittin check yoself an yo surroundings while you in ma hell before i cut yo ass so badd when you drop your face gon be dark blue oh an by the way it aint yo mama thats the wh*re/
oh an by the way C-Master its yo whole family that think your skills make me wanna f*ckin snore/
i could pawn yo garbage lyrics to fiddy an get enough money to put me an inspectah deck an deathblow on the muthaf*ckin anger management tour 4 while you still in yo diapers cuz yo pathetic ass is still dirt poor/
__________________ Feel free to shop at any T.J.Maxx other than mine.
Last edited by JToTheP on Sep 8th, 2005 at 04:59 AM
I flay skin, like a poisonous fang to your flesh/
I spray sin, toy with this and 'Bang' like 'ladesh'/
I strip physical frames with the pain like 'Cabin Fever'/
Wrench out your lungs hurl em at ya, try to 'catch a breather'/
Violate torment and annihilate your mind state/
Devastate with hate, truth slaughter like Watergate/
In this battle my screename equals your fate, torture/
I'll split you in half cos I give 'no quarter'/
Y'all just nerd rap, like George Lucas with a mic/
With verbal swords, I pack razor mucus in my strike/
Spike ya eye-whites and attack merciless like Third Reich/
I spin ya heads like decks from Mixmaster Mike/
My spit blasts your plight, I fight like C. Clay/
Duck left and swing right I could smite you all day/
Bite you all day, like I'm a shark with rabies/
Forcing your every female relative to abort their first babies/
I thirst for Hades, hell and death, spreading fear like you do scabies/
Stab you like an ice pick with sick shit I flip/
You stick thin, just some more hicks to rip in a crowd of 'Slimmer' Shady's/
This like a game of chess, and I'm the knight to catch your bait/
I've 'knocked you off' lil pawns, and there's no need to 'check mate'/
Cos Freaky Cal's a gal and JP's a she/
And you can get it all from I. Deck for free/
The only thing 'Rob Owns' is Doc Octagon's ass/
You all been taking notes from C-Mast’s 'how 2 be wack' class.
come on, you bite spit your sin on the flesh/
you and Deck in a gay gang bang like 'ladesh/
your a fat kid rappin, who you, Kanye Breast?/
Miss you gotta problem, that why you pokin your chest?/
I'll leave you lookin like the gulf, a tragic mess/
I guess decker knows best, you Blow pecker to Death/
Cal's a gal, well DB's a hoe/
get me off your brain, you'll earn a dollar for sure/
If I helped kill anything, I was the mastermind don't you forget it/
you just keep deathblowin your heart, swallow it, I'll smack you if you spit it/
I don't care of any loser you talk about,/
but when you mention daddy, respect better come out your mouth/
now you can randomise these bombs/
but be careful, cause you might end up with a face full of napalm/
when you talk about ugly while pregnant it affects your baby/
those weren't abortions, your face traumatized fetis', then they went crazy/
they jumped out early hoping death would be better/
hide from the guy that spins ya head for pieces of cheddar/
just three dollars, so you can own Doc Oct's ass/
but make it quick cause you might be late to your "How 2 Wack" class/
there is no "B" except for you, Biotch/
you can duck and swing and still land your ass in triage/
so be a good girl, I'm hot, go get me some water,/
for I tie fire to that ass, like my insubordinate daughter
Caught ya, made a mistake cos I know you have no daughter, you in denial/
Cos your infertile organs create sperm a lesbian wouldn't deem worthwhile/
And that's cool, cos I 'love the smell of napalm in the morning'/
What I don't like is reading so-called punchlines that leave me yawning/
Cal needs a patch, cos I'll have you 'seen' with only one 'I'/
You pose and lie, moan and sigh/
Your chances are less than rolling a seven on one die/
I read your verse and fell asleep by the first two/
Do you have sisters? Or are you the only b!tch your mother gave birth to? /
I'll slaughter and torture while you gulp and falter/
Halt ya croons salt ya wounds and 'rock' you like Gibraltar/
I wasn't planning on this at all, but your mouth had to 'run'/
You shoulda took your legs with it cos this battle is won/
Forget mic checks, battle me you'll get bomb threats/
Cos buying housing blocks is the only way you’ll get 'complex'/
Like jelly in donuts, this boy's just 'filler'/
Catching AIDS is the only way you'll ever be 'iller'/
Saying that people ride my nuts, your act is slapstick/
You just jealous cos I got a pair that ain't made out of plastic/
Cal got 'Freaked' when I leaked to the press-pack/
That he can only squeak and even mice are less wack/
I'd say get off your 'high-horse', but I'll let you ride cos you below me/
I'm astride a stallion, you trotting on a Shetland pony.
im a lyrical maniac,
ure lyrics are crap,
wen ure on the mic ure like try n beat that,
well i just did get over it u just got merked,
or shall i tell ure friends tht ure real names bert,
hi im bert and im an alchoholic,
i new this was my name but i sed i forgot it,
............. tbc
Aaaaaaaaaaaaall you sucka Mc's
aint got nuttin on me
with my grades and my rhymes
cant touch kevin G.
Im a mathlete, so nerd is inferred
i dont care wat u heard im like
james bond the third
Shashashashaken not stirred
im kevin gnapoor
the g's silent wen i sneek in ur door
make out with ur woman on the bathroom floor
i dont play it like shaggy,
u'll no it was me, cuz the next time you see her
she be like ooooooh kevin g.
Your doom is near/
as you hear/these words in your mind/you find/that fear/
is buildin up,/you see flash/backs/of the past/
of dreams you had/when i slashed/
you up until u spilled yo guts/
think about it,you've been doomed since the beginnin/
sittin/there wit you head spinnin/
cuz your mind is racin/
click on the lights and you find you facin/
me/you run out the door bare feet/
into the street/and as a car passes you see/
me again/and just as a benz/it ends
you run down the street to try to escape this/
you runnin around screamin as if i was a reapist/
you turn into a dark ally thinkin you safe/
you try to act brave/
and take out a firearm/
and right as you point it in front of you I am gone/
what an actress/fall and try to play dead on the mattress/
tryin to look/as if she took/some serious ass whips/
the gats just plastics/its a cap gun/
a black one/thats looks real enough to smack one/
wit it/it was concealed and hidden/within/her thin and/
light vest/it was obvious/that she's not the best/
she can't miraculously/attack this beat/
like i can, cause im the fastest beast/
nobody can catch me with ease/
cause im so fast with these beats/
without backin up with repeats/
I keep/smackin up mcs/
cause they lackin what the desease/
hip-hop syndrome/I dont understand why its not in em/
just makes em more vulnerable to my venom/
they dont know whats commin they way/
when they enter the cage/imma humiliate them and then spit in they face/they cant do sh** in this race/they quite and in place/
comes a bigger discrace /my fingers in place/
right in front of the trigger a waste/
of bullets cause i should've hurt em worse with full hits/
but then i wouldn't have heard the burst of bullspit/
that came out of his mouth/
well now that hes out/
it dont matter cause hes not bound to be found/
might as well crown me now/cause you haven't found/
an mc/with sounds so heavenly/that can seek rhymes so fluently/
while he speeks/streaks of blood on the tiles/so get towels and sheets/
blood stains on the floor cuz i slaughter mcs/
they screamin bring me some water please/
i oughta cease/fire cause i brought em these/to/
rappers are unlucky cause i thought of these for you/
i brought up these topics/so i can cock it and shoot/
forget that,imma bring a rocket/so you cant stop it/lock it/and boom!/
see imma lyrical/criminal/
an imperial/willin to spit till you subliminal/
i make danger levels hit criticle/
so get out of my face you've never been bitterful/
infact you've been pitiful/
your life/
and im sick of all/
these amatuere/rappers/like you graspin the mic/
there just askin to fight/
until i bring out a mac 10/
and start laughin/
cause they actually think there tight/
they haven't/seen me in action/
untill i start blastin/lyrics so fastin/
your seatbelts cause this gone be one hell of a ride/
just because your ass went/
to a fashion/show/and your dressed well/
deosn't mean you mastered the flow/
see they underestimate me/
cause imma paki mc/
but what they dont see/
is exactly/how much black is in me/
they thinkin/im sitten/at home with a napkin and tea/
then pray to god fast and then eat/
but not even they can think up rhymes faster then me/
and when it comes to rappin in the street/
there all lackin the heat/
see what seperates me/from these cats is that i rap with a sheet/
and thats what gives me/the lyrical edge to think fast on my feet/
so i never have to worry about mcs passin me/
cause they haven't done enough laps/around the track/to be askin to beef/
and if they do i'll have there face in the dirt gaspin to breath/
and when i let em up imma stick em and fatten they cheek/
now that you actually see/you cannot lyrcally exceed/
bow down before me before you ask to speak/
see this is my masterpiece/
over fifteen clips runnen/sun in/
then sun out,still plenty of miles left/
and after i spit my clips/for these chicks/
imma keep runnin till my last breath/
or until they fill my last check/
which wont happen cause i kill mcs fast best/
which proves/that i can use/this niche to pass the test/
i cant give these f*gs a rest/
cause these haters'll still be livin after six stabs in the chest/
theres no convincin'em/cause these creatures got no sence in'em/
they don't send someone/
cause they come at you with the ends of a gun/
and when they hold it/
try to load it/
then blow it/
they cant do it/and when that moment comes in on time there like man screw it/they blew it/who knew it/would come to this/
back to where we started where there confronted with fists/
there now gettin hunted with this/
a semi-automatic m16 wit clips/
and these fa***ots cant even tell if the magazine even fits/
so they try to fire shots but instead get seened in bits/
these same cats are surprised im killin 15 minutes/
but for me its a sinch/and thats why you never seen me bleed from hits/
cause im immune to it/and i aint new to this sh**/
cause i've been flippin verses eversince i was a little kid/
the countless hours i spit/has now got you powerless/
and i dont shower bliss/over mcs that are cowerdice/
now im pissed/cause one spit out a diss/
laud as sh**/about how i spit/so i growled and bit/
em like im a wild prouncin tig/ i leap out lookin like im mountin big/
i bring em down to the earth and start poundin it/
see i found my sh**/its known as mcin/
imma grip/the mic and rip/it so quick/you wont know what your seein/
see you cant break my confidence/
cause my lyrics are so ill mcs think its ominouse/
and i dont keep my name anonymouse/
i let'em know who there tryin to attack/
so i can go back to bombin this/
what kind of song is this/
i call it 15 clips/
clips stands for the minutes/
i waste/while you just sit/
there as i race/to find/
the next rhyme/i'll use in my next line/
or bar/im testin myself to see how far i can run/
plenty of clips left till i've crossed the line and i've won/
This is my piece I wrote yesterday (not my best). Feedback much appreciated.
Grown up with no love/
Most likely to fail is the title I was dubbed/
Lookin for a fatha figga, but he was killed in cold blood/
No friends around at home/
Left in the darkness troubled and alone/
Whenever stressed I disappear to my own zone/
Full of sinful thoughts no one can save me/
Life full of curse since a premature baby/
I'm tryin hard, but its gettin worse lately/
Don't get it twisted, this soulja is not set to complain/
Just givin oxygen to my heart, wantin to maintain/
Although these daily troubles will soon drive me insane/
I search for the future, learnin from those before me who came/
I see my destiny in a liquor bottle/
Hopin the seeds will not soon follow/
If we all run to the churches/
Will salvation await he who searches?/
Mentally blind, not known right from wrong/
Who am I kiddin, I was damned all along/
What is there left but to set an example/
So next generation souls will never dangle/
Let yeserday's tortured spirit be the guiding light/
To prove there is a better tomorrow if we fight/
See...I wanna believe this preacher talk/
But I know Jesus is not beside me when I walk/
Will someday everything be okay?/
Cause now feels like someone locked the door and threw the key away/
These are my final words for those who heard/
I'm leavin now, but will later return like a homesick bird/
If a humminbord can fall and still sing/
Then I see amazing things/
For this ill fated angel who will soon take flight without wings/
This is a really old one but still one of my favorites
see my rhymes/
is like an atomic bomb/
thats bout to be dropped on veitnam/
be prepared it might land on your lawn/
there it goes the whole countrys gone/
see my lyrics are weopons of mass destruction/
wit more fast guns then/the gats in the shaft of london/
imma keep on/droppin these lyrical bombs/
untill your dick and lip bonds/
ok incoming duck for cover/
this the last day of your life so go home and **** you motha/
i got infinite bombs instored for this lyrical war/
after i tear up one mc im craven for more/
see my rhymes without a beat is like lightning without thunder/
more destructive enough to call me the eighth world wonder/
see im never out of shape i always stay lyrically fit/
the crowds/always wild/whenever i grab the mic and spit/
cuz these foney mcs aren't used to this fightin sh**/
when i get on stage is when they start likin it/
my words are like knife and whip/
when these mcs decipher it/
i'll give em a nice minute/
to come up wit rhymes that might have been in/
that tiny head of his
may i/tell u that your rhymes are exiting as watchin paint dry/
it'll get yourself jumped worse then the gay guy/
that gave the gangsta the snake eye/
and got choked wit his own fake tie/
compared to mine/cuz
chorus:
These lines/are filled wit explosive rhymes/that make up the mos illest verse/to listen or not the decisions yours/but im warnin itll only make the syndrome worse/and youll get addicted cuz my raps are filled wit explosive rhymes/that make up the most dopest lines/use em to punish mcs of all sorts and kinds/i see em bobbin there heads there sighns/that ive got explosive rhymes
verse 2
love the way i explode on the track/
aint no secret im always in this mode when i rap/
concentrate and drop the whole load on my lap/
so that/the acidic rhymes i spit in my flow/
will corrode/your gat/
defenceless/come up in your face wit a clenched fist/
wit my defences/we got you up and against the benches/
next to where the fence is/bout to leave you senceless/
when we knock out all 5 of your sences/cuz you left the trenches/
without fighting back/
its ok we cought up quick cuz your mighty fat/
your lyrically out of shape/
i know cuz you started late/
and you couldn't find a way to rhyme gay and straight/
how can you gain that much weight/
your whole careers at stake/
your rhymes/
arent explosive like mine/
so dont imitate/
and you wont finish late/
no one can do it like i can its always been this way/
see my rhymes are so explosive/
there more effective then overdoses/
i got everyone around me sayin mine are the dopest/
and not because the other mcs are hopeless/
see yall dont know this/
cuz i work hard on my lyrical flow/
and i know/oneday imma by my own house on millionares row/
back up a bit cause wit these rhymes im bout to explode/cuz
chorus
verse 3
some are surprised i made it to third verse/
see im infinite/my rhymes are unlimited/so theres no worse/
and no best/
you weren't prepared my explosive rhymes just burst through yo chest/
and it hurts cause no vest/
is protecting you/
now you cant feel the rest/
of your nerves aren't connecting through/
paralyzed and dumbstruck/
or speechless/
cuz i got you eatin peaches/
out of a dumptruck/
i told you not to underestimate me/
now you greatly hate me cuz lately you've been date free/
and cuz i stole your career,your ice,and your bentley/
now your out of ammo,i slap in a fresh clip/
hear it click/and fire untill your flesh rip/
an inch thick/the bullet hit your lip/
and blood drips from it/
down to your finger tips sh**/
i grasped it/
the skill of makin rhymes explode now its a habit/
its like a lyrical ass whip/
while pullin off incredible feats like magic/i add it/
to and incredible/
instrumental/
and there you have it/a classic/
explosive rhyme now imma blast it/
like the first/and second verse/
wasn't rough/enough/like the tough/
burst of rhymes/
in this verse of lines/
written by the einstien of his time/
the crime isn't mine/
sike im lyin/the mastermind/
that wrote this explosive rhyme/
is right behind this nine/
witch shot a bullet through your mind/
you look fine/
besides the fact that you look red/in the head/
just because you've been fed/
a few bullets doesn't meen your dead/
cuz you havn't been sent to your death/bed/yet/
so be thankful/
or i can alot harsher and make you leave wit a broken ancle/
or i can do you like popeye,when he diminished/his spinach/
im feelin generouse/ill leave you alone for now cuz my verse is finished/
chorus
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Sep 6th, 2005 05:29 PM
