READ THE RULES!

__________________
R.I.P.- Epimetheus
Robert L. Rem
1986-2003

aiight lets do this

Mic Check . . . 1, 2 . . . 1, 2 . . .

__________________
The Soul Purpose LP . . . Summer '04

i'll go

battle vs mind theory (round 1)



Fuck holding tight; attack with scolding strikes; ur lines contradict like ur current status on the Open Mic//
Sharp spit's flowing spikes; I'm flipping ur card; like back in the days on the spokes of strolling bikes//
Ur numbers getting tossed like rolling dice; cat couldn't be rocking mics performing with heavy metal themes//
I had a dream; attacking petty teens with steady schemes pages from notepads aimed at ready teams//
Ur rhyme's half-assed like heavy jeans;hearing faded screams; putting guns to gas; metal to petal means//
Rhymes carved in glass are see through;heat missiles don't hide they just blast; 'n go seek you//
My series dramatic; the pain delivered traumatic; pragmatic theories u lack it; connecting with dope lines like a pair of addicts//
Have ur vision distorted as if u were staring at static; flows charismatic; kid's breathing twice as harder then frantic twin asthmatics//
Only time ur rank will rise; is when RB decides to ban the non participants//
I stand ground; kid I'm tired of ur monkey bars go change your name to playground//
Stay down or get sleighed clown; this dog couldn't be on track if he was greyhound//
I'm far from a merciful bully; purely spitting to hurt you truly; send you to the holy land prematurely//
Unbelievable like fables; the decision making enables u to fold under pressure as the pain scolds; face won't dodge the curve landings//
Striking fist attacks form a verve landing; lightning kicks vastly swarm; I serve branding mc's; there's no feeling to your flow like clogged nerve endings//
Plus your ovations don't deserve standing; like performing in front of a crowd with wheel chairs//
like a bum with no-cares, and a heater pointed blank at ya head, you still say ya prayers//
Face impact aligned with steel stairs; u winning is like trying to feel air; blazing scripts; when it comes to skin; I peel layers//
I'm spitting; splitting spleen stands; n slitting skin strands; as u sit in slings; n casts//
I'm skimming scripts n sinking ships; sending silent screams as ur mom sings at mass//
U couldn't make a melody mixing strings n bass, that don't mean fishing dumb-ass//
Originality ur rap lacks; brought an applaud-o-meter to this; let's measure gun claps//
Around u I run laps; ur a square mc; endlessly departing scripts and parting lids//
Hit u while unguarded bitch; have u look dumbfound like locating lost retarded kids//
Not the one to be starting this but I'm sparring with; flow engulfing sinking ships//
This bone-head supposed to come hard? He reverts that process like shrinking dicks//

lol.....aiight finish this wack ass off:

Mic checks checkin a chin let it begin, goin to win//
Your takin more body shots than people playin drinkin games with gin//
Standin a chance against check? safe and sound?//
Call this battle the final...so step off the mound rocket cause this yer last round//


good luck

Yo, yo, uh yi-yi-yo . . . yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, uh yi-yi-yo . . . chicka chicka . . . yo . . . 1, 2 . . . 1, 2 . . .



^^^^Are you serious . . .^^^^

Yo kid, are you that wack, you think that whining diss will scare me??/
Looks like Mother Goose done bought a fucking rhyming dictionary//
You claim you're hot, but I'll make your heat as cool as Artic cold/
Since your punchlines dont exist, you try to fool us with your flow//
Hit the Wackness Emergency Center, you need help on assembling similes/
And when this battles closed, you'll remember me like a memory//
If you wanna race in this river of flow, I'll make you row-ho (Rojo) like Jose/
My verse will cut ya lines, like when passings allowed on roadways//
I'll fix ya mind frame, like an intellectual car shop/
I crush these toaster (gun) toting emcees everytime that I pop tarts//
You wanna hit me with your flow, well Ima smack you with the same/
so you get scared as soon I perform the action of your name//
Your wordplay really blows, just like a potent elixir/
I spit Ludacris rhymes so they throw bo's that will hit ya//
Your verse has too much filler, like the commercials in pictures (movies)/
One half's aight, the other belongs in Poetic Scriptures//
Ya verse sounds like it was keyed, by retarded piano teachers/
and ya rhymes were never hot, so I don't bother with heatseekers//
You say ya skill's high like helium, so I gotta assume its lighter/
Cause I'm throwin up more verses than verbal bulimic biters//
I'll prove you're pussy when my lines rob you of your panties/
then I'll expose your true essense, like J-Lo's body at the Grammys//
My words are beating you Down, like I'm seizing the South,
I'll spit verses on your toothbrush, now I really got my REACH in your mouth//
I'm filled with spit like my throat hurts, so I gotta be sick/
You verse was wack (whacked), like the actions of gangs in mafia flicks//
Yo Skillz, this cat is garbage, yo who am I gonna fight next??/
This is a text battle dummy not audio, fuck a Mic Check.//




. . . sizzle . . .



Good Battle Mic Check . . . uppin . . . explained votes please . . .

__________________
The Soul Purpose LP . . . Summer '04

My verse is up now too, so don't edit your post anymore . . . thanks . . .

__________________
The Soul Purpose LP . . . Summer '04

vote goes to mind theory
had harder punches
quote
Ya verse sounds like it was keyed, by retarded piano teachers/
and ya rhymes were never hot, so I don't bother with heatseekers//
You say ya skill's high like helium, so I gotta assume its lighter/
Cause I'm throwin up more verses than verbal bulimic biters//
I'll prove you're pussy when my lines rob you of your panties

that was good liked that ripped the other cat also i think ur flow was better than mic chek he went off rhyme a few times here's an example

Have ur vision distorted as if u were staring at static; flows charismatic; kid's breathing twice as harder then frantic twin asthmatics//
Only time ur rank will rise; is when RB decides to ban the non participants//
I stand ground; kid I'm tired of ur monkey bars go change your name to playground

that kinda killed the flow up to that point but the rest was good especially ur vocab which i thought was better than mind theories
overall a tight battle but mind theory edged it with flow and punches

Mic Check:

this is the only part of your verse I like at all

"I stand ground; kid I'm tired of ur monkey bars go change your name to playground//
Stay down or get sleighed clown; this dog couldn't be on track if he was greyhound//
I'm far from a merciful bully; purely spitting to hurt you truly; send you to the holy land prematurely//"


Mind Theory:
This line right here really made me say OH SHIT.........other than that ya whole verse was a killer...

"Yo Skillz, this cat is garbage, yo who am I gonna fight next??/
This is a text battle dummy not audio, fuck a Mic Check.//"

Mic Check, your verse didn't really have many punches in it, but some nice sounding multi' were abundant.....

Mind Theory, i was really feelin evey line, along with good flow...

Good battle Props to both....

Vote: Mind Theory

hmmmm wow, what a battle.

dunno who to vote for......hmmmmm......realy cant give examples but i think.....

vote: MiC ChEcK

thought it was betta, no hate but that was tight mind theory.

Get your Wackass outta here . . . you're not in the league, you have 3 posts, and your vote wasn't explained at all . . . your vote does NOT count . . . adios . . .


. . . 2-0 me . . . uppin . . .


. . . and everyone else that voted, thanks for taking the time to vote and give good feedback . . .

__________________
The Soul Purpose LP . . . Summer '04

yo this battle was tight, i liked mic checks lines, very hot.

vote: mic check

yo dawg, cant take a vote away, jus cause he dumb.

and who tha hell r u thaone ?