Aight herb-a-vors here it is onesoul penskills and gunman callabo style

One Soul~ I’ma maniac rape-ing fags at the beach till sand sticks to my grainy sack
I’ll meet a bum around the corner ciphering for a quarter and bite the way he rap
Making stacks, of money with his lyrics and forget to pay him back
You a cockeyed bitch aiming blasts with a shaking gat
While I’m degrading cats with a jason mask I shat in, tied over their face till they tasting crap
Hold you down on a table naked with eighty straps
Carrying a Freddie Kruger glove askin where you want me to place these slaps
Take three cans of paint to tattoo your corpse with a map to my house and spray it black on your vein slit back

Penskills~So much seriousness lost in spits like it matters..
Shatter the grafters of a battlers angst and sink the hereafter..
Capture the ill times where skills, rhymes and little else meant some..
Gestures to spit were a gift to those who mentioned..
Wildstyle compiled the fun shit. To the beat, to the break..
Crew hate? Nah, choose your fate and grooving to a new state..
Of music function. Combustion of snares combined with real lyricism..
Peers listen but don't see the rhythm. B Boys practice for the mirror's vision..
Grandmasters, wizards but no appearance of cupernatural characters..
Accurate brabs of mics and raps. Emcees to the last of us...


Gunman~Fact is I can flood any city Street with the Ink my pen Leaks when I painfully script genius thoughts I Choose to Use when I Speak on anybody’s Beat/
Lyrically I’m so far from anything you dudes can come up With/
That if you wanted to diss me it’ll have to be in a language unheard of when you Spit/
Cuz the kid has the power to summon any of the four rap’s Ghost that I listen to the Most when I Brag and Boast with words so fire that my mouth Smokes and I gotta spit em out or I’d die from a violent Choke/
But tha battling is Old and outta Control I’m battling the mirror for a lack of formidable Foes/
So now the only thing I’m Doing is Persuing the skill 2 make tha kind of Music that’ll hopefully inspire an entire Revolution and keep Proving that as long as we use our talant in the Truest and don’t act Foolish there is no way in hell we Losing/
You dudes is Clueless/
There is no way you’re beating a Team composed of the 3 meanest Emcees to Breath with the Ability to become your worse nightmare with the way we’ll stampede and crush your Dreams/
So I guess this callab is a testament as to what hiphop was created for/
I guess the only thing left to say is Who Want War?
Cuz if you listen to the most political emcees in 1 for 6 months and the dopest battle cats 4 the rest in your other ear/
Then congratulations you've been listenning to us three in surround sound for an entire year/


eat your hearts out guppies.