santas stuck in a chimney lookin grimey
yur slap stuck yur hand onma face sreamin leame
yur diss piece like a sermon from jerk franklin
oar yur afaggish penis with scripty acts seen thru briitled screens

--like hell was full-this mate decided to walk on earth--

i'm know i'm Sure-ya-playin/ i'll rob Godz-people like Kirk-franklin/ come at me wit that Faggish-shit/ Bad-back-that'z-sick/ Yo-ass-can't-spit, Chimney-n-grimey, Quit-wit-tha-Rhyming, stop when yo Ass-can-spit, and don't come at me wit them Whack-ass-writz...

oh was that a lesson //
lines dissipated from yur fukin head-beggin bread- on water
whats better is butter instead--- dullard
tuck about wackness whut the fuk cul u know when yu blinded by it aint seen it ya cant see watz real yu culdnt be gory even if ya spilled yur brain on yur skill------//he culldnt understan ma rhymes
oh -not ma fault yu still readin abc lines
--like hell was full-this mate decided to walk on earth

why you Gettin-all-tense, you need some rhymez that'z Spittin-some-sense, Talk-about-whackness, i'mma walk-around-that-shit, Peep-the-skill, erase the fake and Seek-tha-real, Bad-mate-1, that'z whack-raps-that-fake-son, Debate-the, skill that Make-you-see-Rhymes, i got "S-K-I-L-L" cause i'm-ill, spell that out for ya A-B-C-LINES...

blindin niggaz culdnt cross readin "d" to zed"!
yu propably gat the abc from ma dissin bed....
ama rapidly rap u around with rapt rap-scalion
yu flo like 10 crapped rap lletrates
lyrics pass thru like a membrane that infiltrates....u wont last a round with a punchline so dont venture into it
yur rhymes are dead and they dont make headlines
if yu kept them ull be left with deadlines _ timed for an award 4 wack rymes.......

--like hell was full this mate decided to walk on earth--

harry's back meth need to try doing crack it might help your flow soon ass u step in the club u cath an elbow i carry a 9 mill u tloten an cross bow slasher don't make me become a gay basher harry the master call your mom hurry ask her who's ya daddy you slave looking like a golf caddy ya girl a fatty i pimp u to get a caddy/ wo harry gets duo /smoke dro /well u stik rats in your botty hole /bitch rapper meths a bicth rapper come were i'm at and meet a gun clapper

this dude bad mate is trash next time they past the mic just past find 5 lil boys to wip your ass working for task in da hood you'll never last /come wit some better shit are get pistol wip a 12 year old girl can get u pussy wip / bad mate meets his fate fucken wit harry i got more lines than bur berry /cath u on the web given head to terry /post it on black planet your girl thinks its so scarry / mybe cuzz she just kissed u that was not a fist that was a dick that hit you /mate sould have been killed in da tiwn towers i just murdered mate some one send flowers



i'm the best HARRY

Look at you dude, your style is shit.
I don't wanna be rude, but you make me sick!
Your worse than Mike Meyers, mobbin deep with no clique.
notta thing to perpertrate, your game is smellin fake, you try to front but you just desenigrate. I cant wait to see what the next MC trys to pull on me cause I'll make him look like a memory. Oh, schools out now, the next time I come I'ma finish tearin you down!

look cobra ya over fucken wit me u need jay z need god u need hova i bubble like soda u might need to come alittle bolder give me your pipe i'll give u a boulder u high now soulger i spit that volger becuzz my haerts colder tap this rock of my soulder and see if i wip your ass fuck u up put u in a body cass u want last rapping wit hodean make u a feen sone as i get u sipping da lean boy it most be hard to read this getting diss add u to my gay rapper list

how the fuck are you from minneapolis, cross over the border//
last time i only dared you to try an dissappear, now its an order//
fuck with this ill rhyme horder, runnin with an AK an a mortar//
youre bound to get blowed like poppin x an smokin a quarter//
talents already small, my tape recorder will make it shorter//
tellin me why im anonmous, in my business like a reporter//

no name gay MC trying Harry D i'm back and tell ya moms to pay me back for that crack look how bicths at when they read some real rhymez look how this buster ducks when i pop steel 9's i'll be bush you play saddam when you read my lines it's liked i droped a bomb /look anonopuss/ you a gril rapper turn your mic in to a dush/ i push/ weak rappers like u tell they shot up a shcool /fool u fuck wit da best get on some g shit and pop 1 in your cest/cool/youfeel up to the test/ grab your tool/ i'll chill and wait smoking da sess

this guy needs to shave, better off just to save//
those rhymes that you wrote couldn't boss around slaves
harry d, that's short for Dick
make it quick, suck it slick, hurry up harry trick
i read ya verse and i think it's worse//
fuck an ambulance call this dude up a hearse
pulled hi rhymes from some cracker jack, wack attack, hackey sack//
harry back, smack an crack, vocabulary is all that you lack
don't cry don't moan don't whine//
i'm all outta time you just all outta rhymes.

roux still puten on dirty socks wish he was me sell rocks getting cash yet he just keeps getting fucked in his ass fag u think u got flow get beat down like Bosten George in blow /218 post one win know u want to bost stop yapping bicth get back to booty clapping see u on Jenny Jones your moms like "i dont know what happen" homie your ryhmes lacken thats y u jacken raps and ya dick pops never showed u macking so u can't get a bicth blow up dolls is your life the back of a dogs ass is your wife look dude resptect my gangster roux the frist 100 man gay gang banger pussy

harry the fairy, lookin kinda scary,//
in that prom dress sippin on the sherry
this kid has no flow at all//
start the brawl, harry falls, caught him shoppin at the mall
like steak, your talent is "rare", not "well done,"
"medium" would be about fair
mr spock flip flops, white tube socks//
someone else's glock that he got down the block
like run dmc, you "talk too much"//
such and such beat you to the punch
teeth go "crunch" when bust a bunch
puke up ya lunch when i bust ya in the guts
verbal fist for ya half assed stunts, if it were football you'd hafta punt

Hairy Chodean
i ate this mothafucka last time but he aint taste right like baked-meat//
you tellin me you makin money sellin rocks where, on lake-street?//
if you could really make-cheese, by the time you startin pushin-crack//
you should be up an out the hood, never lookin-back//
i can tell when you write that youre straight bummy, its funny//
("tell your mom to pay me back for that crack")
if you have to get my 50 year old mom to do runs you aint makin money//
this verse of mine was simple, made to adress what you said harry//
i hope yours wasnt to show your vocabulary,its so-bad-its-scary//
you say youre slangin rocks, but on the conterary...
you smell like a pig to me you prolly run with the constabulary//
ill come an stab-him-where-he, took every blow i just ~excreted~//
youll get ~defeated-an-deleted~ if you ~compete-wit-the-elitest~//

Roux
at the end of my verse youll be leavin lookin well-done//
for a bitch to walk away with only 2nd degrees is seldom//
im simmiliar to a cannibal, baste this fool in oil//
boil him alive, put the meat in foil//
put that in a refrigerator burried under soil//
so when i come back the next week his body doesnt spoil//
im crazy, ill go to your mothers house chewin on your riblet//
prolly be commited an flow from assylum to court like i was liquid//

Anon

anon man c'mon, you simply "underdone"
no fun go run run home and get a gun
put it to your skull pull the trigger take the fall
blow ya brains out right down the rain spout
you takin up the air we all could use and share
i'm spittin on this mic you droolin in ya chair

boy you straight stutted steppin/scared when you here my crew reppin/boy you probably still wonderin whats two steppin/only way you'd be hype is if they brought back the lrycist lounge show/cause bitch two rap angainst beleive me you don't want it noooo!!!!/i'm just to much on da mic and thats fosho spittin mo heat then yo moms clit when she's comin fosho/ that nasty bitch even the dog done fucjed her/bitch and now even mysquitos won't touch her

ANONOMOUS MC A.K.A NO NAME GAY M.C /THIS FAG SENT ME MSG'S TALKEN BOAT DA HEAD HE GIVES /U TAKE SEDITIVES / IN A GAY CLUB GIVEING YOUR SELF THE DATE RAPE DRUG / TIRED OF PUNK RAPPERS/ TRING TO RYHMEM WIT GUN CLAPPERS/YOUR MOMS FITHY BUT HOMIE I'LL STILL SLAP HER/ YOU WANT LIST WERE YOU FROM(WHY) CUZZ I'LL FIND YOU AND EGG YOUR HOUSE FOR FUN /BETTER YET KICK IN YOUR DOOR WIT THE 44 /ALL U HERD WAS HARRY DONT HIT ME NO MORE/ AND YOU WAS'NT THERE THAT WAS YOUR FITHY YEAR OLD MOTHER/ HOW DOES IT FELL FOR YOUR DAD TO BE YOUR OWN BROTHER/(YUCK) YOUR FAMILYS NASTY/ YOU GAVE JA RULE
GONERREAH THATS WHY HIS VOICE IS RASPY/ ANONOMOUS PAST ME WIT YOUR VOLCAB / YOU WEAK YOU TRIP A HOLE YEAR OFF ONE TAB/

GIVE UP YOUR WACK

FOR ROUX

ROUX/ TAKES COCKS /(LIKE ELTON JOHN ) BUTT HOLE BIG ENOUTH TO FIT A X BOX/ (WHAT IS THIS MIC REALY ON )IF YOU DIDNT HEAR ME YOU TAKE SLONGS/ FRIST RAPPER TO DO A VIDEO WIT A THONG ON /FITHTEEN MINS HARRY HODEAN YOUR AH AH ON / WHAT SOULD I DO WIT THESE PIC'S OF ROUX AND HIS GIRL REARING A STRAP ON /SEND THEM TO YOUR GRANDPAW HE LOVE'S GAY SHIT / STILL GOT PIC'S OF YOU DRESS IN DRAG AS A KID/ ROUXEY BOY LOVES DOING BIDS /IN A CELL WITH BIG WILL /LOOKING LIKE A SQUIRL/ STOREING NUT IN HIS GRILL/NEXT TIME THINK TRYING TO RYHMEM WIT HARRY/ CUZZ I GOT MORE LINES THAT THE DESIGN OF BUR BERRY

WHAT CATS DONT WANT WAR

youre a fuckin idiot.... you must not have been reading my rhymes -
they cleary state im from minneapolis....
why you think i was talkin so much shit about a lame mc like you bein here?
any way....

you aint even makin sense, you say my name then say i HAVE-NONE//
what you need to do is pick up an actual mic an RAP-SOME//
you need to PRACTICE, for i flip you over BACKWARDS//
start -shootin spikes- like i was BUSTIN-FAST-WITH a -RUSSIAN-CACTUS-!//
i be BUCKIN-FAT-WORDS to split you down your FUCKIN-AXIS//
sick of FUSSIN-RAPPERS, store em in my TRUNK-OR-HAMPERS//
you must have BUNK-ASS-STANDARDS, ya raps aint HARDCORE//
study FAR-MORE, would i be spittin back if i aint "WANT-WAR"?//
i cant BELIEVE you would PERCEIVE your SHIT-AS-ILL//
youre NAIVE need to ACHIEVE talent or JUST-STAND-STILL//
don even MOVE-TO-SPEAK, ill have to move a knife THROUGH-YA-CHEEK//
same CITY, you made threats an you aint HIT-ME, NOW WHOS-WEAK?//

Anonomous
bitch

ill bleach you skin real pale, with ginger ale, like Mr. Manson
this guy claims emcee, but hes really the frontman of Hanson
for droppin on this cypher, we posed to call the cops
cause we dont need white boys who like to sing Mmm-Bop!
so save dat shit fo pop charts, you dike
cause your career is solely in forum 'Open Mic'
why else would this cats name be secret
even if yo raps was treasured, a pirate wouldnt seek it

anon... who the fuck is he kiddin

look i can spit in CAPITALS
and use parentheses to diss

'look i can spit in CAPITALs
and use parenthesis to diss'
lol, was that a diss?
just to let you know, these are parenthesis --> ( <-- and there werent any in my verse...dumbass)

i already ripped you once, but ill just drop somthin quick for an mc who isnt even makin sense....

its like you suck at a video game, make ya lose-lives... you-nice?
your chances of comin hard are: rollin 13 with two-dice!//
but ay for real, whats the deal, are you just fuckin crazy?//
you could be a rainbow colored daisy you wont amaze-me//
whats with these rhymes you send? my tolerance is at its end//
i see so many mcs spittin nonsense you got me thinkin its a trend//
for actin like you just hit me hard, you need to take your skin an shed-it//
im iller than the worlds biggest-epidemic so i hope youre friends-a-medic//
my advice is to run non-stop when this bomb-drops//
("we posed to call the cops")
your survival is a long-shot, be a bitch an call cops...

Anonmous

Your Raps Are Tainted, You See Its Pictures I Painted,
This Kids Out Of Raps And Look Im Making Him Fainted..

you just a Purely Unemployed Retarded Entity. (no offense to PURE if thats a crew or some shit) this bar can run with what you send-to-me for a century//
you dont want to enter-the realm in which im render-ing-... shylo critical so he wont step-to-me like he had melted-feet//

Anon

I'mma Rip-emceez, Spittin-free'z, emissions-of-spitz-into-beef, i drop-shit-to-see, even these Anonamouz-emcee, in the Physical,-Lyrical-hittin-critical-usin-muses-for-miracles, step down you can't hang-wit-me, i'll send you-to-tha-after, preachin-tha-rapture where you can be Anonamouz n Can't-be-seen

Anon

I think you hurt my feelin's man
look at me Im cryin
no... I think Im dyin.. laughin at ya ass
nigga yousa no pass
stop smokin that grass
i know what it is, you just mad
Bitch I get mo pussy then you
Suck ya dick? nigga right afta you
Chicks clingin to me, fightin for the front of the line
bitch you make me sick wit ya fake ass rhymes
gasoline is all you got? well nigga Im the match, thats gonna make ya weak ass game crash "BOOM"

by lookin at ya rymes, i see u have know skills//
u probaly some rocker chick dat rest in bev. hills//
sorry, but nobody wants to holla at a dike//
u might think i dont hit hard, but since u a chick, dis is jus a sympathetic strike//
ur rite, u are a unique one//
but sayin ur good at rymin is like sayin north korea won//

I'ma give you five seconds to take my cock out ya mouth,
I had to read ya whole verse backwords to see what you's talkin about/
I'm loud wit my clout, leavin niggas like you short an real stout,
bitch you hooked on my dick like you's a freshwater trout/
thatakeova is nothin and you will never amount to nothin,
use ya logic, put two and two together and stop ya frontin/
I knock out grills I'm trill only when I wannabe,
but I'll chop your gills you fish so stay up under me/

I`m Knowing That This Cat Is Wack, Beat Him Until He Turns Black,
You See I Would Cut You Some Slack, But Your Not Even Tight Ya Wack..

No shit I'm black, what nigga you ain't know?,
that's the reason that I be cripplin all ya hoes/
callin me wack when you could only think of one bar,
my punches will beat you so silly, you'll only be seein one star/
and that's me in ya face pointin an laughin at ya,
put a marker to ya face and have lil kids laughin at ya/
you nothin but a disgrace to the game so bow ya head in shame,
your diss was so short I didn't even know you came,
cuz yo ass is gone with the wind along wit my shoe in ya crack,
bring up the next rookie in line an take yo ass to the back/

ay yo u sure ur black......i coulda swore that u pussy//
cause the last few bars was too soft and mushy//
and i'll make u my 13th ghost///
when i slide my ice pik from ur chin to the back of your throat //
we can even put ur life on the dice//
my girls 4,5,6....knows daddys treatin em right//

stop foolin yoself you ain't even on my level,
god doesn even want you cuz he cursed you with the devil/
you reign supreme in your own dreams never in life,
that why the numbers on a pair of dice be your wife/
but it ain't in my place to belittle all your small achievements,
cuz we can all tell you're small cuz girl do gossip about ya penis/

pair your raps are bare, you remind me of a clit with no hair
cause I can tare you up, so you better beware
your girls on top of me in bed lookin like she's on a teeter totter
I put her on the block for sale and some crack head bought her
I just laughed smoked a joint and watched welcome back cotter
shut up before I Iron your lips together with sauder
you rap worse that the looks of your ugly daughter
I'm sayin you can't flow so don't bother

y tha fuk u talkin bout sumbodys daughter/
when i killed ur and raped her in that fukin order/
u got cut matta fact u got slaughtered/
cuz i did ya like street fighter beat yo ass into dat corner/
u woke up dis mornin thinkin ya pissed tha bed/
naw that was jus tha blood leakin out of yo head/
u u a hazard u should be dead/
im a cop killer u should be a fed/

Yo, pecker i mean pecor whats that? you like red decor? if so look no further ill fuck you up like a double murder all your rhymes murmer your a fuckin slow learner and ill heat it up and throw your ass in the burner dont diss em or 50 cent people confuse you with ja and youll get no relent if thats all it takes then fuckin get back or ill beat your ass i mean its not my fault if your lyrics are fragile as glass but it is my fault if you get passed and then lose i dont choose and whats that with alarms and hair off his arms? what are u pussy? sounds like a charm instead of a diss thats why you lost because of that shit

this guy struggles fo life, its like hes on life-surge
this boats the vessel that split it and melted the ice-berg
when i was through, this niggas nothin left but an ice-cube!
submittin wouldve been the only alternative right-move
emcee water drop, musnt know that ice dont think
his only use is coolin down this emcees hard drinks
battlin me is like suicide, wrapped up in camo
you battle punches is like rocks, you got no ammo

come man what up wit dat emcee abilities,
you aint a emcee only ability you have is to beat ya dick swiftly//
tryin to rip my nig ice-berg i hope he sends you to hell,
while hes at send ya back ta kindergarten so you can learn how ta spell//
what the fuck is this shit black star at tha end of ya sig,
what you a syktso a spit personality thinkin you big//(big time) (you aint)
your location is the homlands,
is that ya house where you lay in da bed wit ya dick in ya hand//(as before)^^^
ya battle record is 0-0 cause no-wun battles weak bitches,(you)
man this rhymes like a car reck leve you wit stitches//
fuck this im done come back

im sellin zero a skimpy sack for that wack rap
im here to penalize that ass like a facemask
slap you in the mouth so fast that it tastes bad
i robbed your dad for his raybans while he stained his hanes man
mentally disturbed like i was rainman getting a brainscan
hardcore to the ankles i sprain your pain gland

Make fun of who? you? them? or him?/this mothafuckaz so whack he doesn't stand a chance to win/the worst rhyme of the whole fuckin' lot/stand the fuck back before I pop a fuckin’ glock/all I see is all y'all trin' ta bite shit/apart from the shit wrote by da pro's thats all it is SHIT!!!/I'll put it down one mothafuckin time/maybe just on more fuckin' line/shit wait am I allowed to swear this fuckin' much/well the fuck you gonna do with this gun I cluch/I got time to write down anotha diss/ta bring tears to this pathetic string of piss/I read most of your rhymes there mainly "miss and miss"/talkin' 'bout you Comptons finest/you fuckin Compton Acers biggest pussy/fuck around and meet my nine kid.

____________________
>Y'all know the name I got y'all patiently standing by/
thats right mothafuckaz I make the whole "GLOBE SIGH"<

aight folks enough with tha ice jokes, if globalsigh smokes its only a rice size of dope, even tho he may even think hes dope, the fucker never had hope knowin i was underneath him at the rope, if ya gonna have a comeback ya betta not choke and next this is for all you suckers makin fun of ice like emcees who roll without dice if all you faggots gave it up itd be nice but i know i cant win without outta toss of the dice wait did i just use that twice? fuck yea i did and it felt right so dont ever make fun of me without preparin the ring cause ill hit you so hard you whole family sting.

metaphorically speakin, i melt you, make your level of skills weakin//
turn this ICE-BERG, into a second round FIGHT-URGE//
im provoked to turn emcees broke wit metaphors and vocab//
im only in 9th grade, but im still schoolin this post-grad//
expressions on ya facial, tellin me that this aint racial//
mo than skin deep, type of shit that haunts you till you cant sleep//
titanic vessels, is what i told you in round one//
to murder ice berg emcee, now that really sounds fun//
you throwin cheap rhymes together, knowin it all fails//
yo sick skills is mythic, aint nothin but tall tales//