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Respect: 12
Posts: 1,589 Join Date: Apr 2006
Location: Missoula
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08-02-2007, 06:20 PM
pure death comes in time, unwind with repeated lives/
let the dark sky divide, because it's your time to dive/ Clouds part, sunshine blows through hitting me full in the face Now everything seems fine, my problems are nulled into space A spring in my step, uplifting words like there's wings on the text Positive vibes, I'll carry though the day, and be bringin the best But, my mood vanished, lightning filled sky, coming in quick cracks Body quakes, ground shutters on impact, clouds now pitch black World lurches, whipped through the air, I land on the wrong street Looking down, eyes gaze upon the deep cuts in the gray concrete World is in panic, every air wave carrying the sounds of commotion Streetlights are flickering, and next to me all the houses explodin A great tremble, whole street erupts, spraying the road's asphalt Cement hits me, sickening feeling, all light then goes and that's all |
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08-09-2007, 03:36 PM
A great tremble, whole street erupts, spraying the road's asphalt
Cement hits me, sickening feeling, all light then goes and that's all i crack more heads than a bat, runnin coz the feds is a twat fugitive, i'm wanted for abusin kids with my mescaline raps makin they minds trip, with the fine spits i'm writin nightly record stores aint down with this ish, they sell shit spits tryna spite me coz rightly, i should be the guy who's gettin paid on stage for pennies'n many days i been swept away in this rage sick of all the bull, no more, i'm full these weak emcees like lambs to slaughter'n i brought the cull... |
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Respect: 6
Posts: 3,068 Join Date: Aug 2005
Location: Granada Hills
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08-11-2007, 05:29 PM
sick of all the bull, no more, i'm full
these weak emcees like lambs to slaughter'n i brought the cull... push these problems away, pulling back attention/ trying to find myself like Gods resurrection/ only a glance away, since i've seen my life change/ lies change, but the truth still remains the same/ i've been the one to shame, tired of all the blames/ sick of blame, time to tame these emotions that came/ i'm not going to be the one to say i told you so/ but i'll sure be the one to say i know your soul/ i've been there, but never actually done that/ from front to back, for months it's like being on crack/ since my life's dull, i'll end it with a smile, for a quick ride/ the knifes my only friend, helping my problems with suicide/ |
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Respect: 10
Posts: 2,796 Join Date: May 2003
Location: Limbe
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08-14-2007, 05:52 PM
since my life's dull, i'll end it with a smile, for a quick ride/
the knifes my only friend, helping my problems with suicide/ on the mic i leave few alive, ya'll better guard ya rep, dead if let ya head up ya never get a better marksman yet, mode'll tear apart ya set, son i'm never calm collect, whether ya narc or vet i'ma scar ya neck the second ya start to step, i'm what the darkness dreads, no stoppin my shadowboxing, crews get suited for hallowed coffin's dropped in shallow lodgings, set ablaze any page, rock like a steady gaze from a head a snakes, when i enter stage rappers get displayed like confetti from a heli blade.. |
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08-14-2007, 06:12 PM
set ablaze any page, rock like a steady gaze from a head a snakes,
when i enter stage rappers get displayed like confetti from a heli blade.. like meat from a deli flayed with monofilament wire in heavy rains soaked in blood like i opened up his chest'n severed many veins never strain when i murder nerds'n burn some words into the skin so when the corroner arrives he finds, disturbing scary things a psycho-sadist, like a rapist stickin maces in places painfully obliterating wombs, entombing whores'n chicks disdainfully ungraciously, i wipe my hands on corpses as i leave'em there rotting on the ground, you can arrest me if ya even dare leave ya bleedin, screamin, cryin, dyin, fuck it, look t'me t'care? hell no, well yo, remorse is made for pussies, not an evil pair of motherfuckin schizo dudes, who's livin' twisted lives of pain yeah, i'm insane, i like the game of bleedin til they life is drained..... |
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Respect: 6
Posts: 3,068 Join Date: Aug 2005
Location: Granada Hills
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08-14-2007, 06:44 PM
of motherfuckin schizo dudes, who's livin' twisted lives of pain
yeah, i'm insane, i like the game of bleedin til they life is drained..... slaughter with laughter, and after this verse is finished/ i'm the sinister planning to end this rhyme, diminished/ this isn't the first time, hell it won't ever be the last/ fast to kill, but slowly reminding these cats the past/ i drastically lose patience, and patients die this is a check up/ messed up, guess what? it's your turn, it's what you call Hells cut/ found lost souls, murdered and taking revenge, when it ends/ enemies turn into friends, and lends a receiving cut off heads/ i read the deal, it was to let 'em bleed till they die/ next try, is destiny with fate stabbed in their eyes/ |
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Respect: 2.5
Posts: 380 Join Date: Oct 2006
Location: Lowell. Mill City
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08-15-2007, 12:10 AM
this here is the foundation of lyrics engineers
gain merit for clear imagination to ensnare... the young and near..till the song is sung out the "right" ear Share ideas with everyone...but never won..trophies but don't care..cause i don't stop till the heifers done my breath is lunged at ones who don't listen to none.. but just themselves..cause their ears arn't sharp like slim elves but this shit ain't fairy tales...no mercy for the careless frail men who spit strong are the ones to survive the merciless hale |
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The fiend of Hip-Hop has got me stuck like a crack pipe - NAS  |
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Respect: 12
Posts: 3,436 Join Date: Nov 2004
Location: Hayward/Irvine
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08-15-2007, 02:02 AM
speakin thru these perilous eyes, prophetic and wise/
more quaint than quiverin quails, expect ya demise/ i leave those, stopped cold, like rows of stone doves/ when wailin women risk watching my flow thru dome holes/ with poles, impale people, controlled, like thrown spears/ is the imagery i speak when defining my whole appearance/ just fold, cards of life is my tool, i swim like dealers/ cuz my thoughts are never at 'fin', forever spit 'side ya ear/ lighter than pockets, people state i'm sparkin like sockets/ through electrial walls my lungs stay stalled, like rusty sprockets/ my mind stay oiled, robotic, so never destined to fail/ i could be growin trees in my lungs, and no smoke would ever bail/ i could be iller than the illest, neva question these words/ cuz like freddy, i'm a bad dream, so respect what ya heard/ like baby carriages, my sentences, hold masses of verbs/ compared to shit a baby squirts, is our difference in verse/ the ying, the yang, heaven or hell, a blessing, a curse/ No matter what the comparison...i'm best and you're worst/ |
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I bboy to discover and extend my physical abilities, to better understand the correlation of music and dance, and to further personalize the culture of bboying. What do you bboy for?
Hip Hop is a revolution of artistic standards. A revolution of music from beat-making, dance from bboying, poetic knowledge from freestyling, drawn/sprayed art from graffiti. Who're still aiming to revolutionize? Or are these simply standards of a newer genre nowadays? -Unofficial Deignorizer |
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08-15-2007, 06:22 AM
the ying, the yang, heaven or hell, a blessing, a curse/
No matter what the comparison...i'm best and you're worst/ stressed'n disturbed, insert blades t'ya face til ya rest in a hearse ya correct i'm the worst of murderers, you suck'n ya death is deserved get violent with style'n i'm findin i'm wild when i'm drinkin this shit absinthe makes my ass dance like a stripper, girls can't think to resist sting when i spit, like cobra's in a contest shootin toxin in winds like fantastic four in concerts, gettin down like i be rockin this thing hot'n possibly dope, sick, like a pissed wife cuttin the cock off her bloke like a bush fire gettin trapped against a river, i'm stoppin t'smoke..... |
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Respect: 12
Posts: 3,436 Join Date: Nov 2004
Location: Hayward/Irvine
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08-15-2007, 04:15 PM
hot'n possibly dope, sick, like a pissed wife cuttin the cock off her bloke
like a bush fire gettin trapped against a river, i'm stoppin t'smoke..... rippin my hits like tombstones, stay ghostin my fumes/ the pimp of this prison, leave ya ass swole like baboons/ my venemous fangs, twist bodies like internal typhoons/ infectious bites, ravenous, like 'em wolves under moons/ |
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I bboy to discover and extend my physical abilities, to better understand the correlation of music and dance, and to further personalize the culture of bboying. What do you bboy for?
Hip Hop is a revolution of artistic standards. A revolution of music from beat-making, dance from bboying, poetic knowledge from freestyling, drawn/sprayed art from graffiti. Who're still aiming to revolutionize? Or are these simply standards of a newer genre nowadays? -Unofficial Deignorizer |
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Respect: 10
Posts: 2,796 Join Date: May 2003
Location: Limbe
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08-15-2007, 05:47 PM
my venemous fangs, twist bodies like internal typhoons/
infectious bites, ravenous, like 'em wolves under moons/ my flow make the tundra move, issue local warnings, 'cos i'm about to raise the temp like global warming, a real bandit, spit that ill graphic skill it's still classic, kill for thrills my grill savage, eat any emcee thats still standin, i'm the sickest to write, the sickest to pick up a mic, spit wicked acidic shit so even when haters listen they like.. |
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Respect: 6.5
Posts: 596 Join Date: Jan 2005
Location: On a road less traveled...
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08-15-2007, 06:32 PM
i'm the sickest to write, the sickest to pick up a mic,
spit wicked acidic shit so even when haters listen they like.. While I slip a dick in their wife, until the bitches innerds ignite A sinister sight, my rhymes could turn the sickest sinners to Christ A sick writer, slayin' all dick riders, burnin' their writtens with Bic lighters Kids think I can make 'em skateboards with the way that I Spitfire The only man in my thick clique that's cannibalistic That'll sandwhich your bitch quick like ravagin' dick flicks I'm known to punch holes in teeth of any foes that beef My flows are sweet but'll make your face sting like when cobras speak Droppin' ill rhymes off a Mode's retreat That're so sick the Boogieman check's his closet for me 'fore he goes ta sleep |
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Previous FRS Mod
2v2 Champion Been kickin' it since the site was breakdance.com 
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Respect: 6
Posts: 3,068 Join Date: Aug 2005
Location: Granada Hills
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08-15-2007, 06:47 PM
Droppin' ill rhymes off a Mode's retreat
That're so sick the Boogieman check's his closet for me 'fore he goes ta sleep here's another one down, another one down and it sure bites the dust/ hard to trust these MC's because they tempt me and this bars starting to rust/ i must write this down to remember it, but i forgot that i have amnesia/ pretend to know what i just said won't make things easier/ spit this rap game, but these cats just swallow it/ they can't follow, i'm too quick to borrow it/ so i steal what i can take, i just bake and serve/ but no beef intended, you get you just desserts/ LOL |
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08-15-2007, 08:49 PM
so i steal what i can take, i just bake and serve/
but no beef intended, you get you just desserts/ when i wreck these nerds, steps is earned til they respect my words the finest mind in "site" i try t'find a line t'write that leaves ya cleft'n hurt enablin me t' do my favourite thing, globe trottin like wilt chamberlain strangest thing, visit countries where i'm pale of skin'n makes'em wanna make me king sometimes when i'm hungry wanna chow a bowl of asian ting like szechuan chicken, shit be dope, leaves me broke coz i was blazin things straight puffin, suttin good like puffy nugs of plucky buds t'make me high a wasted guy, i used t'be a dude fa'takin lines, now i'm stickin with weed'n lookin at my favourite skies.... |
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Respect: 1
Posts: 18 Join Date: Oct 2005
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08-21-2007, 09:47 PM
Puffin back, get out the whip
he equiped, poker stack mo chips znd rips wack boyz and don't leave a tip Got cash stacked in the grands, too much fo one hand, ladies man got da plan wrap it up in the rubber band White to right, white to write, hiten' up shit winnin big on the nightly fight Air flight higher than the Forces, GT in Porches, drivebys hittin porches, niggas bang Scott Storch nnn' 16 years strong to the fuckin' game, I feel it in my blood runnin through bout every vein, pain insane got it circulating to the membrane Crazy bitches all at me think they tough en', just come at me Battle box challenge Phulphy Puphin |
