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The 9th Degree and distilled rhymerator
Basically, bascially, this thread Is to rhyme at your best, in a hip hop way, line by line, This how we do....
Technically dreams equal nothing but still they mean something to me, |
You fuck wit Degree, you see defeat, nothing will come more easily
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You and me, have beef to be, don't go accusing him next cos It's me you'll see
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Spit bullets like I'm blastin' heat, no wonder they call me the "9"th "Degree"
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It's easy to see, you want to be me, but your wack, you'll never get where I be
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Cats so miniscule we couldn't "see" 'em between B and D in a fuckin' dictionary
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Power cut on stage, but your still there miming like this was pictionary
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Fuck havin' Dizzle buried, the only thing they'll put me under is covers...with Halle Berry
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I'm in a hury, I got to get to you, Now I'm rippin off your tee, and All you be is Dirr'y
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Dirty like underground rappers, when they hit mainstream and rhymes turn clean they become "washed up"
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No longer Hot Stuff, de-ice so you aint Cool, bitch your a mediocre Pop-Hop Duff
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So just hop off nuts, we know you ain't crazy, 'cuz you haven't called me out
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I think about, times before the beef, Now every two minutes I seem to be puttin a diss out
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On fake thugs sayin' they be dumpin' clips out, but don't know what distilled and Diz 'bout
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They step, they duck, they talk shit permanantly, one battle, we prove what we been talkin 'bout
Swtich it to bars 9' |
I always walk without, a firearm, I'm a one-man arsenal
Plus I fight with arms, walk out a battle not harmed at all |
And I planned it all, It was no set up, you had it comin bitch you know it,
I knew if I told your bitch ass bout this shit, you'd pussy and no show it |
Whether I wrote it, spoke it, anyways I smoke kids
They disappear like ThugLife's record, hocus pocus |
I'm throw hits, I'v got a hoe-sense, Not quite a sixth,
But when Empire walks through the room, I smell a bitch |
Naw bro you smell the aroma of a grese vat
I spit Thanksgiving, so rhymewise feel free to call Degree fat |
Hoe, I own you, throw you through circles, and run rings around you,
Mess you up so bad, your mom'll find you and not know she found you |
I clown everyone who tries to step to distilled and Degree
Matter fact, I'm rhyming to OMB's beatboxing free |
Fact is, anyone steps, they'r goin straight back down,
Fuck it, we own Fool's who even think to try and clown |
Word, we burn opposition with hot bars, and own so many cats
We should brand the one's that are not ours! |
Damn son, Fiya, Striaght Fiya, The 9th Degree burns aint just a rumour,....
Aiight thats an ednin, to all you who doubt, Fuck yuo, to those who believe, word. 9th Degree and distilled, we own you. |
lol good stuff guys good stuff i'm out pz
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fuck beefin wit Shadow, niggas kno what im on, carry two guns like Hitman..
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I'll kill you for the paper, act paper thin you get ripped, damn
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ummmmm..
gotta let the shells lose, cuz they stay out the barrel...only cuz they clostrphobic.. lol... |
I bring death to MC's, leave ya casket "closed" like Nostra spoke it
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damn text is wack...if i aint on a mic, then my subliminals are erretic..
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And half these newbs could get "sonned" by Sinner like wackness was genetic
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dats funny...lmao....
niggas is big headed now, so my words is fuck Kontroverzy... |
He's not so worthy, "master" of herbness like his name's Percy...
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Alias revival of this thread,
Mc Firetruck, lmao, dope name... |
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