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Old 06-11-04, 01:10 AM   #1
virt
Banned: Biting
 
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Posts: 40
From: From the depths of darkness...........no solicitors
To all the fake bitches...

IP:

Yo, you can't cope with the heat, no hopes to compete
Thinkin' you dope, but you weak with that wack flow that you speak
Wrap a rope around ya throat and choke you til you can't breathe
You a joke, I'm serious, you need experience in this rap scene
So what does that mean? (Uh) You rep a wack team.
I crack G's when the gats squeeze
Blow your brains on ya back seat, Now that's beef
I fight a foe with a microphone, and at last we meet
So fuck a rap and a beat, don't you see, I gotta gun
The police chose not to run, So I'll shoot cops for fun
I'm the toxic one, I bring death
Straight to ya motha fuckin' room, soon as I wring ya neck
You aint seen me yet, I'll be there sharp on the dot
In the parkin' lot, ready to fuckin' spark the pot
Dark or not, Daylight, I say and paint tight art off the top
bitch, you won't break me, My styles hard as a rock
I'll be in your yard with a glock, ready to shoot
The techniques is steady with proof that we the deadliest group
Pain is only weakness when leaving the body
And you could die from a flesh wound recieved from the shotty
So I guess pain is just truly, more than it seems
I deal it, to make you feel it, we even war in your dreams

i'm eroding the soil, that gotcha probing for oil
you struck dirt, ya lucks worth-less and tha globes-in-turmoil
it's utter chaos, "ok boss - i'll drill through his knees"
ain't no tellin' when elevation should fil-ter his frees
cuz i bring subjects that matter and as a matter of fact
i got talent and sense and you sense the latter's intact
the ladder is cracked, and y'all fallin' offa the rungs
carbon copy, tryin' to stop me's like sayin Hoffa was Hung

i throw more changeups than Randy, deranged is what my clan be
it's pathetic when my text-gets explained to understand me
i'm over your head, face it it's over - your dead
lacin' the basic with basting and then the doberman's fed (WOAH)
i'm turnin' clovers to red, it's-tha-midst-of genocide
paintin' walls with faintly calls of those who wish they never tried
i'm foldin' what's gold-and-untold-into the boldest of statements
you phonies ain't get stoned unless i throw bolders to face bitch
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