become a pastor like mace?
Fuck ur so slow, I threw my fist and it went right past'ya and in the face'
Cut u up so quick, then leave without a trace,
Drain your blood so quick that when it drips its still blue,
Dry your veins so their so dry its a drought through and through,
Watch your blood clot, till its thick enough to make black pudding...

damn, who is this mothafucka comin from yorkshire
who sent this bitch a letter "Whack emcees for hire"
rhymes so weak, easily crushed through
yeah we got beef bitch! fuck you!
dont even challenge peeps to battle, with rhymes like that
cause once they drop their verse u wont be able to fight back

Yo Kuniva, you even know what you talkin bout?

Cus dude, without a doubt, you aint got style to play, you aint even got room to say the shit you say,

So that was your verse? And this is me not fighting back?

Fuck it dawg, you talk like your some nigga who aint even black!

A gay fuck still in the sack, A bitch but without the rack, A cunt without the pussy, a Pimp without the hussy,

Shit, if my rhimes are so weak then why waste your time? Surely battling me is your worst and best crime?

*albi*

This is my cypher, so you needa bounce like a bad check
do you really have teks, If i passed you tha choppa
could you handle it or loose control an shoot ya legs
couldent cut shit, grab a onion cut dat instead
rap ain't ya job, go back to dat head
from yorkshire, well around hea i'm tha king.. so go ahead an call me tha sire

Threatz? Is that manna be a symbol?
Your no man, you do ballet with feet all light and nimble,
When you spit, your words dont fit and they crumble,
You try battle, but you choak and then you stumble,
And your really that blind you think your the king?!
Fuck this shit dog, I take royal cus every line I spit - I sting

Every line you spit.. makes me laught
how can someone rap an sound like trash
no lie, i'ma let ya kno might bust a lil flow
Threatz neva been a ho, mayn I done stole tha show
mayn I done broke you off get up off me tha muthafuckin boss

u couldnt be the boss of a fuckin class room/
nigga get up off the cypher hop back in the whom/
or get yo asshole filled wit the end of a broom/
got gatz like drawz so i stay switchin em up/
u like a hip hop cop snitchin when im rein up/
just use ya brain befor u blab ya lipz again/
witness protection program be relocatin u to switzerland

i dont know where to begin, but one-thing, and i know u saw it coming/
your rhymes are nothing, no punch no flow, keep that in mind next time u say something/
by running rhymes through ya brain usually processes occur, or so ive heard/
these processes are used to see and deterr from mistakes made in ya words/
i can see from your work you did not think before u started rhymin/
my analyzing cant be wrong, the evidence is in what your citing/
what your writing there is a complete and utter waste of space n room/
ya taste in punches is the costume of what you would want to write if you were new/
namely where you wrote, and i quote "get yo asshole filled with the end of a broom"/
ya grammar skills are below par, so far, they dont seem too strong/
didnt give off a good impression when u spelt *womb* wrong/
probably a 12 year old primary school kid, u know nuthin bout hard lifes, a fool-with/
rich-bitch characteristics, this kid tries to inflict mental anguish but surely aint the sharpest kid in the district/
hit-miss is what he plays hopes and prays that his rhymes are writ the right way/
that he can for another day pretend to be a good mc, only to betray/
himself fooling himself into thinkin hes skillfull, givin a fistful to even more wishful new rappers, then he thinks his shits-good?/
u gotta be jokin, either u smokin, or you just plain stupid/
most cats when they step up to rap dont know what to do-then/
ur no different, the guy above yous at ya level and you think u rule-him/
aint it the truth, ghost, you raps are nuthin, mine are *(f)phatter* than *glucose*/
do-post another, please, i insist, could be your chance to repute, ghost./
or better yet stay mute ghost, cos the second you do drop a second post/
even if others reply ill still aim my rhyme at YOU ghost

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This One Man Band Need 1 Damn Hand

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Yo LIL RENEGADE is makin his way up da ranks.
ya boi is back

Yo' one man band, I dont seem to think you understand, what, is your head so far up your ass you cant stand?//

Cant see land, all you see is your intestin, when you rap its like a fucker screaming "one, two, three - testing testing testing" //

Yet your shit is kinda interesting... likes mothers and sons and cousins insesting, your so fuckin shit, you need to be gagged before arresting, cus that mouth is just plain full of it, sorry i meant full of shit... My bad, heres a gun, put it to your skull and then pull at it//

Six lines at the least, this mother fucker wrote six plus one, multiplied by three, thats way more than he should need... and he calls himself an M-C, took him 21 lines to diss, thats just weak...//

You know, he's a one man band cus he aint got no friends, no one who can defend his mother fuckin punk ass, sounds to me like he been smokin too much of the good-grass, cus he's not even in a rank, he's still in third class... Who the fuck let him take the mic? he shouldnt have even passed//

talkin bout the other persons head be suck up there a**/yours is jus' as bad/i think you jus' need to change your pad/you say u have a d*ck but we really dont kno/but i really do know that you really do blow/ur a f*ckin ho/ha ha ha that no 1 wants/you say your a mc but you jus taugnt/which mean to mock/ur jus' a big f*ckin C*CK/

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so what chicks can rap too/
u won't battle me cause i can beat u/

How you gonna think life is made, bitch you even graduate the second grade?
Ain't no fucking wonder you never been laid
Writing unbearable, fucking wack ass disses
You try to hit with that no dick shit but your stuff just misses
Only time you ever seen a cock is in a public shower
Bitch you just jealous, I stet up and you start to cower

albi, you clearly dont know shit about me/
check previous pages, i burn anyone that doubts me/
yo, dont just call me shit, think and expand/
cos somethin i do must be workin, wheres your "damn hand"/
man, i recieve more props than a stage show, a born pro/
u show us ya lame flow,and ive seen the same post that you boast/
posted by so many newbies, any one sane knows, it was bit like a lamb roast/
i could say-more, i could go on ferever bout how boring you are/
i cant understand why u criticise MY amount of bars/
its just the truth, i bust, but you suck, i could do/
the shit you-pull, in one line, wouldnt even need to rhyme line 2/
notice the shit i do? complexity itself? i bet this bitch cant tell/
how i easily excel in all aspects of the raps i dealt/
i dont need any of my many friends to defend me when im challenged/
cos usually good emcees dont get they friends to write during battles?/
i took 21 lines to diss? but who the FUCK cares?/
its quality not quantity, but in my raps theyre both there/
i dont like to diss a fucker and leave him before shit gets good?/
i cant just say "mother fuck you put a gun to your mouth" i do wat the best would/
its called analyzation, i pick out puches that dont meet my expectations/
and times when ya flows more up and down than masterbation/
the lines in ya last verse had NO relation, whatsoever/
hell, no other lines were any better, vocabulary so small, he ends up rhymin by the letter/
one syllable per end of line maybe at times there was an inner in a line/
where he desperately tried spice up his rhymes/
... blah... cant bb finishing.. im on the phone...

and u bastards better not diss me coss i didnt finish...lol

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just for the note... ALBI is female... thats all