a'ight this cypher all frekeystyle....
bust it up with some verbal gymnastic backflips type shit

pure playaz....haha

im deliverin a message by virtually unspeakin...
speedin and feedin emcees a ficticious weekend...
how i played on words and got caught cheatin...
they dumped me but came back to me one night drinkin...
but now my mindblocks gone and all the ill shit is leakin...
so im gonna quit speakin b fore i start preachin...
unleashin blazin seasons and end up replacin the deacon...
thought i was dreamin cuz i woke up before i was sleepin...
and my head hurt so bad i must have been drinkin...
im a dope emcee i realized that i ingested the cup eminem pee's in...

what the fuck? dont ask...lol

__________________

yea'ight ai'ght playa... check this

rope n' dopein shots a lock targets rock
got em petrified emphasized then electrically sensorized
with bent ascents on the rize
diggin and pitten fence trenches to minds with crimed rhymes and nines
hived lives sublime intellect respect
specticals crept with subtitles that hit the deck
terrorist verstile miles in depth percepts to its concepts
sway zig zag wordplay ricochet in a wave
symptoms sadistic rips scripts in aspects
paths boundaries hexed sounds vary on epilepse
aligned structures erupt and shock clocks on block steps

by wacky did u mean wack, this is my bros freestyle, im typing as he says it....

((silence))X 10 bars
this is my freestyle better than anything of 8 mile..
no no no start again
no take that out
ok erm..
((silence))
drop me a fat ass baseline..
((silence))
((more silence))
im gona hit u across the head with a chair, ruin ur hair/
smack u acroos the face cos ur a fuking discrace/
look at urself, u r wack/
so wack that i cant belive that/
u try to be coolb ut u got braces/
cant even improve ur fucking little faces/
((silence))
but u still look like bugs bunny/
and im gona kill ur mummy/

((beat ends))

I put the MC in McDonalds
got bigger feet than Ronalds
I robbed the Hamburglar wit an empty water bottle
Burned the McNuggets wit a home run from Kirby Puckett
That bird chic look kinda cute oh well fuck it
I'm the Prince of Burger King eatin Chinese food chicken wings
Stir fry you in my wok and turn you into dumplings
Boned Baskin Robbins and gave her a 32 flavor
Then she got up and turned into Arnold Shwarzzeneger
Damn I got to run this aint no fun
Like the turkey on Thanksgiving I'm done

The thread said wacky wordplay....I guess its wacky

(silence)
ya ass stuned me, you chould be called austin/
with words ya bro use make livin so awful/
damn he aint freestyle his life in denial, the post says wack wordplay ya rhymes is like childs/

(silence)
...my bad i just read ya profile, nigga that explain it all/
cumin from england and dont say im a lyin ol felon/
14 of ya years u been waistin on baby/
not from cash money....christ...... the title says spice/
girl power cuz you aint gonna lift ya shit so put it together/
ya skills ima rate...ima hestiate... ya fake/
you lightweight go post 8 mo' tiger so ya feel more greeeat/

(7 minutes to diss this cat wacky)

creepin along run sides the reaper amidst the echoes of silence\\
reflecting from the dirts ground up as death trembles my mind tempts\\
confusion illusives like acidic sadistics absorbing orbs crime inprints\\
remaining distinctives shapeshift existance my nine primes dis clips\\
defined by sintense rein-rips indents rinsing in propane projects\\
disfigured triggers my fist grips as the bringers of blysters\\
embalming with napalm bombings expanding with splinters\\
railing the heated winters magmarizings to tinted singes\\
sizzle the grill killing up on riddalin hill and spillin bodytags on to the window sill\\
cereal coated with road apple cracka jacks n'roaches\\
dethroated erroded flame throwed to scolded locusts\\
molested wrecked & necked to roll coasters spoked with the interiors of toasters\\
atop sofa loathers soaked in gopher loafers\\

come sniperin thru the entrance,
i'm a spit how eva i want fuck a proper sentence,
my shit liek cocaine a straight line,
fuck up fake emcees with they gay ass rhyme,
i'm a rip yo head off n give it to yo momma,
mo dangerous thena taliban suicidal bomber,
i'm tired of puttin a comma/ i hate emcees who just talk it out,
get a piece to yo mouth, and deep throat the tech-nine,
lyrics? i dont have ta check-mine, hit the deck-man,
i'm got mo thrills then a roller coaster,
now what am i suposed-ta, do about this,
i'm constantly slpillin chirs........

(well that was shit i didnt exactly know what to do, culd sumone pl explain it again)

I burn niggaz wit my fire spitten tendencies//
Hitten emcees wit temperatures in all degrees//
Police sayen freeze as I buck willingly and how I please//
I'm ya commander in charge, my heat will leave you at ease//
Blow through body hot like a summer breeze//
I rhyme easy like sayen the A'B'C's//
Catch me gunnen in the trees like I's Vietnamese//
Bitch winken at me and shes meanen to tease//
See me in the Park blowen trees wit AJ and Free//
I'm not talken door knobs when I'm getten these keys//
Educated wit rap, I pass wit A's while your strugglen wit D's//
Have you bucked up leaven bones poken through ya knees//
aftermath be sick, got ya manz sayen "Geeze"//
And I ain't talken Wu-Tang or Lil'kim when I sting you like of swarm bees

Razh
Razh

i spit actwards,i mean backward,fuckin bitches slow on coke thinkin its faster,screamin hell at a pastor,i gotta daddy but still a bastard/
don't moch me,try to copy or even cop me,got a dick persauna so my minds stuck on cocky,like clutches i must pop thee,my ice cream rolls witout rocky!

i'm sitting at home all alone,
think about callin my girl on the phone,
talkin like hey yo sup,
but i'm to lazy to get up,
i'm fuckin lost i can't freestyle,
i'll just go steal somethin from 8 mile,
dunno what the hell i should say next,
so fuck it, i'll make ya guess

2 sticks,tryin to get lit/
so i can smoke 1 cancer stick/
da number is 3,so why should 4 be followin me/
didn't start wit 1,but yo there it is in da second bar/
now dis is da 5th one,when crips rep 6 point stars/
what was that? sound like 7 tray 8s/
that left 9 dime pieces lookin 10 playboy dates!

fuck this fuck that fuck rap
i dunno shit, i dunno crap
i'm sitting here typin on my keyboard
cause i'm fuckin bored
dunno what's next, dunno what's in store,
call me poor, cause i ain't rich,
few years from now, i'll be layin in a ditch,
i ain't gonna have a carreer,
i'm just gonna get old and disappear

sittin here smokin a j, jus lettin time slip away/tha j woz a rocket i can pop a 5 mil socket/jus lettin time slip away.

i'm fuckin spittin this shit to kick with it,
grabbin tit while lickin the clit,
i dunno what the fuck i'm sayin i think i'm drunk,
just watched MJ perfom a slam dunk,
i got eminem be boppin in the back,
thats great shit for matter of fact,
eminem's cool he ain't no fool,
fuckin bastard didn't even finish school,
jesus fuck my computer gots a glitch,
excuse me while i go throw it in the ditch