Check in's by Monday
Verses by Tuesday
Voting Ends Thursday

Topic...
Where it Ends

__________________

Checking In!
Greetings Ill.
100.............................................
101.............................................

I want to see a battle niggas. Just wait till I come in this bitch, ITS ALL OVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You niggas ain't ready for the all-mighty Xtravagent//
None of you niggas can fuck wit me, just stick to ABSTINENCE//

^^^ ahaha fuckin idiot, im checkin in. that was some weak ass shit faggot. sup shabaz

.......................................

whoops, andre was on my comp and forgot to log out, now IM checkin in, my bad. ^^^^ still a faggot tho

ok my shit will be up either today or tomorrow

.................................................. ............................................

All right, just got home and wrote this. Typing now. 12:07am.

Where the hell are you at Ill-Mental? No show-ers go to hell!

Where it ends was really where it all began for me. . .

The trailer park dwelling that held me 15 revolutions/
Devolution into societal ruins was the doing of my father's short-sighted, poor-minded economical plan/
Much akin to the AMC piece of shit tin cans which refuse to ran/
Sadly, not because they were running on E/
Gaslines would have proved passtimes—nope, in a plummet were we/
But out of all the nightmarish blocks, we rocked the last lot!/
Like we could rearrange the tragedy of the foreshadowing our visitors got to see/
Like a longer journey would assure me that they wouldn't laugh at "#50"/
Diamond in the rough?. . ./
It's tough, next to impossible to snag the image of a hot rolex inside a Gucci purse rising above the worst dispersed garbage bags/
It's a foolish thought: When you outlie a hellish spot, you don't outshine, but simply absorb the smell of rot/
My people in Maple Lane know the pain, having to turn on the Weather Channel everytime the roof resonates from a drop of rain/
Shall I explain? Spring of '96, maybe May, was weak, the fucking "house" got thrown sixteen feet! Strong wind, hey?/
Without delay, I ask you if you've known the day when your own grandather kicks you out with nowhere to stay?/
You? Living out of that Holiday Inn? No way./
Next day twas off to school for some more ridicule. Kids sure do think white trash is cool/
Concerned teachers pry for some time and ask away: "Is it True?"/
Nellys got nervous then, hand out for the telly to dial social services/
Trust me as I rush thees/
Where it ends is the worst place for kids/

Fin.

-Because it's a personal account, you may not feel the attachment to the topic "Where it Ends". But for me, that was what I first thought of as "Where it Ends." So please try to understand that when viewing this verse.

hey this isnt a no-show, i have talked to mad man about it already, i'll have this by midnight

.................................................. .................................................

This is fucking ridiculous...
Is there any particular reason for this?
Or... hell, maybe why you can't seem to make a verse.
It's 2 where you are now.
5.5 hours, you couldn't toss something up?
26 hours...

That's just not right.