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fuck how to spell, your a net geek and everyone can tell
cuz it aint me, but danm ya fucking bars got a rotten smell you like one of my fucking groupies def gonna cop-hard you fat like a eleaphent, so you slipp'in is the only time you "DROP-HARD" EZ.... |
in a mask u battel and in that mask you'll be kilt //
on that cop car in the back round will our blood spill// you a snitch running from the truth // so bit my bullits and be smoked as much as snoop// you talk a tie of shit but walk bye and your lips ant flappen // your ryhmes are as tired as your hole image in rappen // |
U Half trash and half wack, short of a six pack
Now the only time you hear this cats is on a dis track You got lips the size of lasagne strips, hes a fish man while you like to wrestle 4 power, like Vince McMahnn nigga you is gay, stay away like restraining orders or have ya whole fucking spain-fractured-N-re-order CHEA! MOTHER FUCKER |
you ain't a rapper or a pimp... homie, ya name says it all
the type to wake up with a chicks arm under ya head gnawed off fuck beef.. i'm high cholesterol... like eatin hog maws I give heart attacks to smarter kats... so you fightin' a lost cause "To be... or not to be" ... a man... ya styles all crossed like confused males in drag dancing to "The Men All Pause" lmao...been a while since i been in here... and i STILL own this...lol... guess i'll leave for another few months and come back and own it again when i get bored |
look man your flows are garbage, i only speek the truth//
how can you be a rapper bitting of Dr Seuss// You ain't shit but a bitch wishing to be tuff// and how in the hell your name look like a pair of nuts// man what tha fuck, you just sick in the head// i know i was when i spread your mama legs |
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*shakes head and wonders why this dude is even in here* i was gonna respond but... it wouldn't even be fun dissing you... |
Dissin you aint fun..really sumthan tah pass after..//
you weak as tha last rapper..peep his name"?"..seems like you ass-backwards.// you like ah trash compactor...holding nuthin but rubbish...// I shouldnt diss-cuss...but fuck you!,u leave R.V. disgusted!// Not droppin?...Your excuse is eh?,But yet you still remain..// You mustve been wack before....you created that alias name!// ....cuz you still are.... an fuck fraud,No show bitch! |
Muthafucka above me such a diss to hip hop,
Think he gangsta when he wear shorts, hoody and flip flops, God damn!, I'm a murda ya bitch, Lookin like a cross between ya ugliest friend and the Notorious BIG You aint good enough I shouldnt waste my time so go to hell Ya such a fucking faggot I shouldnt be dissing you but myself Muthafucka you my flow fucking excellent Muthafucka you just got dissed by this dishwashing mexican |
I just realized ur poor..so now I' can't even piss on ya wealth
'n while that dude diss hip-hop and you just diss yourself win the belt..it dun take much to overlap u...so duck &I'll hawk-ya cuz u describing what that guy looks like.....u fuckin stalker this like me walking a dog wit too much shit to have you make it big & i'll have mexicans so afraid to kid wit me..you'll adult wit my sig Bah.........w/e. |
just faced off in the puncline tourney
abused you so bad u'll be calling ya atterney hurry up, post up quick is what he said Y when you dont send no good punches.. just recive them to ya head NK sounds like he NEED KILLs 2 be a killah and i cant stomch the win since you drop noting but fillers im stuff from ya crap, come on you thought you had it cuz that battle was like a UZI when i spit the win was AUTOMATIC |
hit you for "fronting wit fate" and kill you from ya "back to ya luck"
you got ur record hidden..why?...cuz it's a known fact that u suck 2 lines don't mean shit to real emcees who make their crunktime rattle cuz who else but herbs.............take so much pride in a punchline battle? aparently fraud lies in the saddle..ridin dick like the cunt bites & you really wanna prove sumtin?..then hit me up in Front Lines |
As if our production-clash this nigga is deductin' fast.
I gave his "queer lines" nuttin' 'cause this dude is fuckin' ass. (get it) Plus he gotz no-damn-steels, in reality but no-mans-iLL. Try to walk on my shit it don't hurt cause u wear low-class-heels.* Like unbirth ur born-2-loose, Crypple this nigga born-2-blues. New Jack, this dude-whack u got robbed witout scorin' ya shoes. *stelettos witout the heels on the back |
Rap aint a game, man, this is war, n i've got a purple heart
In the streets they "call it murder" how i'm tearin u apart U don want beef wit me, betta head for the door when i enter Cuz even the flag that your reppin got an herb in the center Tryin to "run me over" wit ur rhymes, 2 bad the curb hit ya fender U get food thrown at u on stage, n its the only way u be earnin the cheddar |
Quit droppin....cause nobody tell you to
from dat rap you posted, I can tell you new I wont hesitate ta straight put shells through you "Droppin Dope Shit" is just somethin you 'Fail To Do' Fuckin wit rap, you'll get ya heart mailed to you and dats not just some bullshit.....Im Tellin You I aint even gotta come hard ta kill dis cat kill his rap...everybody know ya flow still is wack Ima man so you need ta leave wit dem children raps or I'll get you and ya children clapped fuckin wit me, you'll get ya whole frame filled wit caps no bullshit ...dats dat real shit, Jack So go ahead,..run...and watch you still get cracked ............you'll be 'Asleep Longer' than "Lil Kid Naps" Fuck It.. |
489 posts but still this nigga talking about steal on the net //
i stole on niggas like u back in 96 im a war ryhmen cypher king vet// bring the verbs like they got a ad in front of them so he fell the scrip// not only fill but make him catch-a climems of the image of his clips/ talking about """Fuckin wit rap, you'll get ya heart mailed to you'"// when we all no this nigga artifical ant got no thug in you// buda bitches like u get put where your beliefs is // if u ant get it im put u where the smoke from my che-fa is// up and nothing complex about stress// im the secound thing smokeing then sessec// wow thats deep shit let me brack it down stole--snuff--hit --kill verbs plus ad adverds you feel them he said what was in qutoes my real rap name is stress and my block the lable sessec like the drug u no |
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