-Merk Squad-
|
Do You Have Lyrical Fitness?
IP:
Aiyo, I spit quick to rip enormous/
Hear as my singular words slur to verbs till each word's considered a chorus//
This nigga's wit is quicker than a Ford Taurus/
To be honest, I was bored with college, now I kill niggaz - it's morbid//
80% of my mind is split like eight-tenths or four-fifths/
I bet I'd spin you for hours until the Centrifical Force hits//
Ain't much to be said, my style's bred from the Hip-Hop Scholars Alliance/
We got professors there that'll call it a science//
For generations of constantly dyin'/
I've decided on the plateu of life, now I cherish the time spent constantly rhymin'//
My bars hold weight better than obese offensive linemen/
Add got this shit locked in hand-cuffs, come see if he lyin'//
Compete and you dyin', it's over/
I got a bitch named Berretta who's dyin' to know ya, give you light if you blow her//
Kosher like Jewish salt mixtures in ya soda/
Snake-like from African Black Mambas over to King Cobras//
Rippin' since the Ming Dynasty, killin with atleast 25 lines a beat/
With 25 minds to read//
Like The Ring, bitch, at your first glace your infected/
Ensuring ya death, in 7 days them niggaz back track to this epic//
Listen to the druid speeches implanted in the stanzas/
Bewteen the two lines of scramblers, you're graspin' the answers//
Style's flexible like belly dancers/
I drive the point straight to your skull like nail guns and empty banter//
Besides having this tragedy happen to me/
I got extraterrestrials constantly naggin' to dismantle me//
And vacuum pack the slab of brain matter that spans by my ear/
With electromagnetic reactors that'll power Japan for a year//
IQ readings are infinitely above that of a collective college/
So the smartest man alive is still dwarfed by my constant knowledge//
When I die they gon' make journals and books and forget the title/
Cuz as quick as I came, the quicker this nigga gon' leave the cycle//
There aren't many on this site that can do it like I do/
I'm like the Ebola virus and SARS combined, duke..check ya vitals//
I spit punches and disses so I'll practically never fight you/
Cuz I'd pick off a nigga at 40 yards traveling on bicycles//
One more joke and it's over/
I'd choke ya like a Jehovah's witness trespassing over the threshold of my home, brah'//
Suicidal like aircraft pilots - Japanese Kamakazie soldiers/
Or Nazi commanders, or even Shinobi captives back in the old years//
Systematic developments keep me enhanced at the cold shoulder/
I never cared for Gia, like an excommunicated mother, I don't know her//
Up at 5 in the AM typing 'cause Trauma's an A-Hole, maybe we should get him some help/
When you read this, don't get on the deffensive, I thought you said it yourself//
Back to the topic of how I spit... never fear man/
Shit, I'm ill enough to spit a SCUDD missile, run it and intercept it with bare hands//
Transplant your brain to make it accessible to subliminal messages/
Quicker than whatever you peddlin’ and disappear faster than Nympho picture negatives//
Leave your brains in the dashboard of your Lexuses/
And got your collar bone ringin’ around your throat like broken necklaces//
When the pen hits the sediment it’s evident/
My intelligence is benevolent then way dish it you’d swear I’m sellin’ it//
From my Alpha Omega to my Exodus, this is a plan to find my relevance/
Spittin’ on some Can-I-Bus shit on the board like rappin’ executives//
I’m rippin’ your sentences/
Shoot at anyone that mentions this as one of their fetishes, and watch it steady developin’//
I never claimed that my style’s vital/
Driving the 8 mile cycle in the day time just to say that I Pile-drived you//
I dislike you like Simon hates each American idol/
And I’ll try to side swipe you every time that I drive by you//
Quit tryin’ to do as I do, your life’s thru/
Cuz every nigga spittin’ his writtens thinks that his ciphers are nice too//
I watch my enemies talk, pretendin’ to brawl/
I’ll have an Indian broad singing riffs to finish you off//
First off, I don’t believe in the law/
I diminish emcees in open and have ‘em fall asleep in the mall//
Punch at speeds to rattle your teeth and your jaw/
Trigger finger got Carpel Tonal the way I’m squeezin’ it off//
Hit the beat with no protection, I have no choice but remain keepin’ it raw/
I don’t claim to say I’m even with y’all//
Emcees nowadays are frost bitten the way they sneeze and they cough/
I’m basically the main reason to thaw//
Killa', I'm the illest nigga to rip a quick wit spit for no reason/
Hott enough to melt the cole out ya nose at 20 below freezin'//
To hell with the cold season,/
I'll greet you with a semi-technical wrestling move and get you to the point that there's no breathin'//
Go back to your day job where you cover for steet sweepers/
Stomp holes in the bast'id till brain matter's on each sneaker//
I'm tired of you, sucka,/
I'm rewired to aim the tech nine at the base line of each one of your eyes, muthafucka//
I ain't text to drop knowledge on you, fucka,/
My bullets follow on ya' rubbers, I ain't paid to silence you nucca//
You claimed the dark ages for a day and you loved it,/
Don't ever contend with death if you ain't set to get your name interrupted//
-Addlib
How many can do it like that? I just sit down and write this shit. This shit is worthless to me.....hahahaa...I'll holla........
|