Bury you & ya unknown bitch, to die inside a cold-ditch/
His raps like gunslingers use napkins, they unfold-quick/
Soon as the drum-roll split they brain, one horizontal-slice/
Pour quarts-of-light liquor, give respect to a former-life/
After that, spit-in-ya-face like cobras, blindin-ya-eyes/
People say crack-cane-hustles, not so stylish-this-fight/
Bastards back-pay double, contracts, he signin-it-twice/
Get face bagged, stashed into-the-ride, I Shock minds/
Most confident niggas figure, dial the suicide-hotlines/

Well, I run text-on-punks and rip kids with my scripts cause I got the best-of-em//
extraterrestrial-lessons-done cause with or without X, (extasy) i get bitches.. hell X-is-one!

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You not a soldier, instead, you have all the qualities it takes as a fag
how can RV ever 'take you serious' ..
..........................when your avatar is a 'donkey shaking his ass'?
Face it, ya trash ..i'll smash ya keys dramtically, they'll massively break
you might as well keep that avatar...
........................cause for you, thats the only ass you'll see shake!

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The Scholar

Before ropes tangle-ya-neck, I progress, kidnap ya bride-first/
Too difficult for dangerous-rescues?/ I suggest you write-her/
To your closest fam, have ya kneecaps removed-frpm-a-package/
Flows got so many dots-to-stretch/ I confuse it wit rat-shit/
Empty handed bum serves pennies when beginnin-to-wager/
Why his avatar make it seem like, he pinned-to-the-paper/
Endin-you-too-major/ Get at least ate-he years, killin-minors/
Ya still-a-writer?/I shit on ya scroll like being filled-wit-fiber/

its not a compliment when i say he got the baddest bars, yall
so you being sick is 'hard to understand' ..
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . like ya 'avatar', dawg
this faggot hard? Naw ..you really nice? you prove it hardly
when will you realize...
no matter how many posts you get, you'll forever be 'new to rv'
you'll lose ya heartbeat ..
yo existence is in my hand, i could make a fist squishing ya world
you should've 'joined next year',
but u 'came at the wrong time' like 'catching a cold before kissing a girl'

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The Scholar

so...um...a verse doesn't have to ryme huh?....fuck..I guess sum1 lied to me....
fuck the prez...I'll send you to meet the dead poet society....
and U here every time I come to shit on some one....what the fuck?
your lines are stretched ass hell...next time u type...atleast take a look....
dont be so quit to press the send button....spell check ur broke letter...
it helps avoid words like avetar...that shit make you look like u dont know better....
how many times do have to destroy u?...let sum1 else in the cypher...
Iv shitted on u some much...Strobe told me to me to sport a daiper...

damn nigga....let some one else in the cypher dawg....I think Iv spit something on you like 4 times now. if we ever have a battle Im a just say fuck...Cut & paste...cut & paste nigga.lol

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figure I could drop by and promote my my first mixtape and what not since im here..

well, i gave em a chance ..

i can tell from all of the drops you're bringing, you wack
and yeah, ya verses are supposed to rhyme ..
.......................but yours just never seem to do that.
i delete techniques ..stop dropping, your keys stress me
we figured out your Eyedentdy a long time ago..
..........................................you'rre a weak textcee!

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The Scholar

you joined december 2005,
and you got 50 posts, nigga are you even alive,
ill take that pen and stab you right in the neck,
status offline forever, and i collect the check,
you could never get darker then this,
you bound to get wet like you in the dark taking a piss,
ill leave a fag in a bodybag,
big toe taged,
bloodeir then a girl on her rag

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I wouldn't Blow in I was in a windy storm, You rappers are just bitches you spit the norm

how you gonna make fun of someone for not post-whoring, though
i suggest you stop counting posts and try the sylables in ya flow
i should do the same but, stay true to form, because
in all actuallity, YOU spit the norm

Ring around the rosies, burnin up posi to ashes ashes and it all blew away...........

All ya'll niggaz weak, but posi's in this rhyme that i chose to speak
Lil bow wow ate u up when he was 6 and u was at ur peak
Since u know ur numbers count how many shells is flyin
Better yet count how many rv mc's are dyin
These niggaz records look good cuz they don't wanna rap
They talk shit to coward they ain't bout no real scap
But back to u, ur flow is easier than tyin shoes
U a r and b nigga and don't know the rap rules
So how can u school somebody and u got no wins and no loses
So i'm steppin up in the bitch tell n ya who the boss is
So if n e body wanna battle come get me
U can either get fucked up or u can fuck wit me
I ain't gonna waste my punch lines on this thing so i'm leaving
But Posi, your flow would sound better if you closed ur mouth and stopped breathin

i'm relentless towards vinceness, ya stupidity's indispencible,
thats just what i was dealt, you're vinceness, but i'm invinceable//
Yeah if yall say he's a 10 then best believe that i'm a joker,
THe only time you wet folks up with gun's, is bustin super soakers//
Nigga's bustin nursery rhymes, your like twinkle twinkle little star,
the underscore in ya name represents ya flow...sub par//

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Twinkle twinkle little star, is Kkkemistry as whack as I heard?
He said something about Super Soakers and now he flips birds?
His diss sounded like everyother rapper would say,
Czar Bishop, Ghostwriter. KEMISTRY NEEDS MY FLOWCAB TODAY,
You talk about he thinks your joking, well I do too,
If he ate that MC, he threw him back up like the Bird Flu,
If you give my lyrics an autopsy, what you will find,
Is a flow sicker than Jews when Hitler planned Genocide,
This is too easy. This ain't fun, Kemistry,
In fact, I'm done with him, I'll go to the next sucker MC thats gonna post below me,
Thats right this is a first, don't post wannabes,
I make suckaz like you run the track, sprintin' next to me,
So stamp up your envelopes, and mail it to the sender,
Cuz I'll emerge from lyrical rubble as the Number One Contender.

Trash on the interstate, only times I seen-him-pick-up/
Can't capture this king straight, cause he's a-bishop/
Don't get jealous of flows ya sell-us/ I have-to-delete-it/
Masterpieces more fruity than a faggot-has-peaches/
No way he poppin/ In shootouts, he revolves-the-coldest-gun/
Your hopes-are-done/Way of life's Section 8/Call-it-low-income/
As I murder-you/ Ya personal crew's bringing the Ha-Ha's-galore/
Dump ya off in green-acres to ferment/ Now ya Czar-Czar-Gabor/

Your rhymes are hard to bob my head to its like the matrix code/
So I'm gonna get up with ur bobble head and make her spend that doe/
Why go all the way to green acres to drop u off/
When I could ice right here, just cuz u soft/
I wouldn't waste no gas on ya punk ass, i'll leave in tha alley/
You're wanted like biggie goin back to cali/
Thats fucked up, i extorted ur money, hoes, and ya flow/
Now its time to be cool, i'm gone 2 roll up that dro.................HOLLA