| Word2UrMutha |
03-03-03 03:43 PM |
ight 10 lines. my first battle. good luck kid.
Your victory is inconceivable like unborn kids from sterile mothers//
I take the pillow potential voters sleep on and leave you smothered//
Step up to bat and I leave you beggin' for 'no-more' (Nomo) like astroturf owners or the LA Dodgers//
I got you lost in the woods looking for 'logs' like confused mathematicians or homeless lodgers//
Leave you in bits and piece as I dismantle-your-spine.. stuck my verse in your hands and you still couldn’t ‘handle-my-lines’//
I'm mangling-rhymes.. you talking about beating me.. you couldn’t crush my ‘hand’ if you ‘trampled-the-time’//
My raps lined up like military formation that was a good expectation when ya girl gave me an oral examination//
U dried up from my infrared radiation u got growths on ya hands from massive masturbation//
you go to the doctors, once a week just to turn your head and cough//
its like you allways on the cock, like a dick is a “light” and your mouth is a “moth”//
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