Opener
Im Gon Drop A Verse For The Cryme Syndicate.|
My Rhymes So Smooth Like You Finind A Soul MAte.|

Multis.
When I Come To Ya Town Put On Ya ~Vest~ This IS Like A ~CON-Test~ but i ~ suggest~ you be ~blessed~ before you step up to me and i ~request~ for ya to try ya ~best~ or i drop ya to the ~midwest~

As I Hit hard Punches To ya ~BRAIN~ leave ya in ~paiN~ as i crack ~ya VAIN~ I ~remain~ ~insane~ beatin you so as easy as catchin SADDAM ~HUSSIEN~

Metaphor(S)
My Rhymes Be Like Tornadoes It Keeps Everyone Spinnin.|
Beatin Me Is Like The Orlando Magics Eventaully Winnin.|

End
Who's this fuckin' child? Put this to rest, He's coppin Styles...//
And the only time he ever got clean lines, is when his ass is Moppin' Tiles!//
The only thing you got on the hush, is ya celly, 'cause noone calls you//
And ya asshole stretched so hard, even ya boyfriends Fall Through!
Rich Kid With His Dreamcast Made His Msg Quite-Clear/
That He Aint Even Close To Perfection Cuz Im Right-Here/
Fuck The Ankles, I'll Have Ya Whole Posture-Broke/
Ya Ego So Big That When U Flow Its A Cause-To-Choke/
Krossova Ya Lines Wit Confidence As I Con-Yours/
Slappin Ya In The Face Multiple Times,Theres Your Encore/

I Left It IN Forum Ill Put It IN Here

__________________
ReKorD
WinS 0
LossEs 1
Ko'S 1
K'Oed