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.The Outcome of a Battle.
Fuck son, who want it?//
E spits an ancient sickness, call this nigga bubonic// Shakespeare's new sonnet, ghetto synthasized// A rebel minimized in emcee form, epitomized// As the level that E spits heats up to fire// A quick reply, i'm the truth dismissing lies// Recognized as death, disguised with words of life// The light I learned from night types defers my sight// Now I prefer a mic when the nerves are right// Treat battles as urgent fights, and girls as dikes// Stay calm in a world of hype, but spit napalm// 'Cause atheists hate God and when debates start// They start a brain storm in the face off// Cats better remain, strong insurance is State Farm// Never break off from what ya parents praise taught// Make ya paths, unnoticable to snakes in grass// Keep a car that doesn't need a key to start// 'Cause you'll be breaking fast, when this nigga's wrath...// Sees your heart and takes a stab// Bleedin' starts, you'll question your belief in God// Don't change your path, and you'll be flowin' with Pac// |
nice....very nice I've seen better from you tho!! good piece
*~holler~* |
sick shit as usual b.... different style from ya norm.. I liked it fa-sho, I thought it kinda fell off at the very end 3 lines... they were good but flow didn't seem right nah'm'say'n... 1
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