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I rock the mic so hard its phenomenal//
my flow's so phat it puts flAb on ya Abdominals// winning against my hustle is impossible// every mutha's pedistool is choppable// |
I dont get my hands dirty, I dont whoop ass physically
Why should I, I just grab a pen and murder you lyrically I merk repeatidly, and immeadiatly, spit bar after bar I'm Tiger Woods, but ya'll are the only ones under par I dont care who you are, I concentrate on my elevation Hate me!...I dont give a shit, it's as if I got constipation I'm a creation of a broken home and a fucked up society Thats why if I get challenged, I'll merk you violently... Blah, it's hard with no beat |
My Infalible Actions Pass With Wins On The Pull...
As This Magical Passion Taxes Those Kids UnaiBull... To Harnest My Tacktical Rap Sequals, The Smartest Of All Equals... Attacking Like Gods Miracles, My Thoughts A Gift To Tarnish All Febal... And Week Minded, Never Will I Speak Blinded By Cheep Knowledge... My Bitter Sweet Lines End In Seats Confinded To Be Unknown To My Logic... |
im a warrior comin straight outta hell i spit dem flames ....... aint nuthin changed im still runnin this game ..... bust sum caps outta yo 9 ...... im a killa , aint affraid to die
..... muthafucker bac off u have crossed line ...... im loosin my patience , kill u all ova this rhyme..... im spittin shit , damn my flow just 2 tight ...... back off u aint got the skillz 2 win this fight ..... |
My name is Big Woody
I come straight from Inglewood Rockin red chucks, 50 bucks, and a hoody Niggas trying to step up? I wish u would I'm really a nice guy, but I play no tricks My rhymes hit wit PRIDE kause i'm Rick James Bitch!! lol |
I'm new to the game, Leave emcees slain, Call out my name, Tame lyricists on a Psychological plain, My frame of thought, Spit flames, then I'm off, Insane top dog mad game I'm the boss!
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Guess who's back in tha game: it's Miss Jess
Better role out the red carpet,won't settle for less Homies keep stalkin me,sayin they wanna be my hero Don't need a Superman,my beauty can't be blocked by an enormous ego I only fall for down-to-earthguys that can handle a dominate bitch U gotta show me the money honey cuz poor doesn't mix with rich Practice ain't gonna help ya, can never reach my level I'll smack u, bring u down like Serena does on gravel |
Right now its bout to go down
girls on thier knees sucking my crown Spit so hard leave my own self teethless Get nothin outta me like a shut theases The jokes on you Tatood that on ya fore head These dudes flow so lazy Its like they rapn in bed |
ayo muthafuckerz im deadly u just dont know who u fuckin with //
make sum muthafuckin place cuz im here with anotha tight spit // im takin this shit i am a killa take a run , bac outta hell for anotha day // tryin to get sum gang under my control , join my crew u aint gotta pay // HellRaZoR remember this name , i drop dem flowz like timbaland droppin dem beatz // if y'all tryna fuck up with me , shit aint gone work get bac on yo feet // i rob from the rich & give to myself , shit fuck off if yall aint gone b on my side bitchz aint worth a try , erry1 gone loose if i got my crew betta start runnin & cry i creep N i crawl , join my crew & watch how dem bitchz with dem crewztake a fall |
shit.... self glorification, why not, heres my flo
maybe i should change my name to MC DOPE cuz i can come up with rhymes, faster then u can choke its AK up in here kid, best show sum respect im spittin with the illest of flos, check the dialect youd get wrect if you ever attempt to shoot me id sell you to russians in exchange for half a ki tha ill MC, AK is what they call me im geddo in real life, i stole this computa, u kids bought ur's for real price ill make u BREAK yoself, lyricly stick u n steal yo wealth i got kills under my belt, teflon under my jacket ill rhymes, sick lines n hard punches i dont lack it i aint a religious man, but i think im heaven sent cuz before i shoot a man i make that nigga repent self-glorification.. please do i really need it dog? AK say the name ill make ya arteries clog my styles hot, i even got country niggas feelin my shit ya girlfriend loves me too, the way i rub my dick on her clit see im sumthin like a pimp but u dont see that side on this board theres no love, ill leave weak MC's with no pride im new to havin the time to think about my rhyme textstylin is simple, i kill ya ego, one line at a time |
shit im so tight people dont even know,
i kill it wit these keystyles is equal to flow, spill a sick rhyme every time i go, then pick it up wit a spounge then swallow it again, then recycle it and make it defferent, thats how i alwase get the win, so many people wanna be in this skin, but its me and only me and alwase will be within. |
I'm a about shitt-in constantly/
Honestly that’s my main priority/ To spark the left side of ya mind, wit verbal authority/ This vivid vocal sorcery will turn the mainstream/ To the minority, mainly-slain emcees/ Words burst from me/ Out the chest past the tongue thru the teeth/ Good grief/ Lyrically manifest a trac to breathe/ Mentally i’m dominant/ Verbally sic wit vocal vomit/ While you talk-in it / I've already subdue it / Hit you with an exclusive/ And Mix you like the rubix when I spew it/ The deadly divine/ From my chromosomes to my last enzyme/ Y'all only get warned 1 time/ I done spoke about a trillion lines/ Snatched the head with the crown an made it mine/ |
I spit verbal in-toxic ways like MC's for days//
before i've even given you the chance to be amazed// coz i work on the fact that money pays// as my lyrical act 'll have you bitches dazed// phazed while your reading my sciptures page by page// an' within my verbal pictures 'll have you lost like a maze// coz i'm the best at the rhymes i slay or slaughter// like torture 'll put you through the trauma// until my words make me the original king of the corner!! |
1st round knock out, im a bout to bring the pain//
punches connect so much, have you 'Harlem Shakin" you brain// insane, direct hits havin niggaz in the corner eatin 'punchline pasta'// opponents brain got slow reaction, like he smoking with jamacian rastas// more ice on my wrist than a beer commercial from coors// my rap career's bound to 'open up' like ferrari doors// J_da_monsta, devouring the sold souls of MCees// The only way to win, is putting a nuclear bomb right next to me// That was kinda weak. Oh well. |
str8 thug thatz me
ya real version of a p-i-m-p if u cant see greatest whyte rappa 2 b im tha nu funk whyte kid full of spunk no bitchez punk im my own man proud of it now u c it u gota luv it im not a gosip folk im not tha 1 that choke c me um dope |
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