Exactly What The Title Says...

6 Lines MINIMUM

Note: I Move Threads Once They Reach 10 Pages.


Start with me!

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FUCKA BABYLON BANDIT!!!

L.A tha land of dreams and broken off palms
Torch ya sleeves kid so ya can show me firearms
Quick to stun, and throw this dog throw tha door
Crack hit tha floor quicker then clubs full of whores
Ima question ya sexual pref w/o paper or a pen
Mods worried Dogs more then his man's best friend

*EDIT: See you can post the right amount of lines, so from this point on I better not see any of your posts under the limit or off topic.
~Bounce

ima destroy this nerd, hes a pal on his patients
with shit you'd prolly hear in salon conversations
your abombination to the site and your career
liking up the ass, an yea Axe is ya but-humpin peer
oh queer, don't go near a flow that's strong w/ frees
cuz how u raisin above can, always on ya knees?

...

haha whateva

Bitch, halt ya punches before you break a nail
Oh no continue, I'll drop shit on ya then an anvil
Upon ya coffin, hell ya need plenty of thought
Ya still can't drop quick likes w/ all those bites ya brought
Sought those equal, but found a femcee lost
Out of ya element like whales bathin on a coast

Look D.Silver you like to boast about shit you thought you knew
That's before I decide that I would come over and slay you
Stay the hand that comes up demanding to be voted
I'm your teacher and I flunk you in class like your demoted
You say you'll drop an anvil on someones head
I hope you do that before I leave you dead
I don't have anything else to say right now I'm new at this
It's okay though because you blew this
I think that's all there is to it this time
So I guess that I'm done spitin this rhyme

Blaze kids constant, pop shots flash fo a moment
I lay Vans on racks like those in shoe departments
Wack kid, well suited w/ it, outshone those wacker
Ya can't carry ya own weight like rich back packers
Seen tha worst, though i know you won't elevate
Quit play w/ soft guns, kid holdin a piece of cake

Talkin about holdin a piece of cake
Shit I didn't even eat that at your wake
Talking about wacker rhymes fienden
Comin up lickin up siemen
It's okay though, I'll just say hey hoe
Leave you lickin your chops
Smack you back to the shops
You work for me now kid
I went to the auction and had the his bid
I won your skeezin ass at auction
And then treated you like tupac's son
You are just like him you were never there
I left you in the street twitchin in your underwear

wtf is that^^

ur rhymes are basic face it ur wack/
give up rap..ur chances of elevatin is like micheal jackson returning black/
the fact..of the matter is i crush newbie kids who try to rhyme/
roll up on nerds like u before they try to shine/
didnt catch this one tho ur the herb that got away/
but i smoke more herbs then xzibit and Dr.Dre/
basically ur rhymes are long and pointless/
the chances of u getting laid are ifffy like coin flips/
u mate with ur hands like ur in heat,hotter than the son/
and the only vanilla at midnite u see is...cum/

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What's up w/ tha diary?None wanna hear it
Compare you to a Boxer......w/ tha shit on it
Talk of auctions ya head wears a price tag
Hang ya from tha ceiling like a punchin bag
Bold little rat, ima drop knowledge and bodies
And nigga you straight suck like baby's dummies

whats up lil nigga? you cant even rhyme
your shits wack..... why even put in time
i said nigga but you aint black
you a lil white fucka smokin crack
i blaze fire.. can you cope with that
you hopeless man.. why you even wrote this man
you aint drop knowledge no bodies or nuttin
you should quit tha game why is u frontin


not racist

tha past~two was trash~too// swing left get fast~bruised//
eclectic as fast~food// dislexic in raps~fool//
I question your rap~dues// your method is crap~to//
who left you to patt~dudes// you fixin a madd~stew//
I'm chompin these catz~through// cause both of them lack game//
its over like that mang// come up wit a bat swingin//

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Flowaz Realm Advocate

MC Bass, your pass over-due..Now your known to face-it/
Because you have more-old-news than homeless basements/
Break your bones and remove you from your own-skin/
Usin your own-moves, your a noob with no-kin/
Please let me hold-him...by the neck till he pores-and-bleeds/
because you hold more magic stickz than women-sorceries/
This scores-with-me, an you look like a goalies jersey/(double 00)
with your bottom more ripped than a bag full of groceries/

blah..feelin wack rite now..

look at the avi...is that you r sum Fake-shit/
Like the blond at yer sigs with sum Fake-tits/
17-1.. Spectator must be mistakin/
yer even woser then..puffy's Band in the Makin/
Let me unzip my flyer.. and piss on Her Barz/
Bettah yet change ya name to Can-i-Fartz/

Keep it goin one luv

Aiyo Rhymon, tha comedian testin lyrical warfare
Please reverse ya decision before i cut you off air
Oh dear, losing ya spot light among all tha herbs
Fuck what ya heard, kid can't stomach eatin his words
Ya heard, like peeps cut in half, you'll lose ya turn
Take yours like agents and blow what ya urn