most cats card players; pokers faces, but cards are full of fluff/
shook when real dogs up the ante and call the're bluff/// -Razor

I play these bitches like a game of cards; face down / So they don't even know what hit them when I rip the place down / I'm an abstract cat, rap like I'm on three bags of mushrooms / Attack your stack with speed inducing sonic booms / High voltage fables fed through the mic cable / with volume so high it blows the glasses from tables / Shattering dreams, tearin emcees at their seams / Leave the hatchet buried deep in they chest cavity / I'm a fiend, just like Rakim and Eric B / kick a hole in the speaker, and other emcees flee / It's the rhyme deity, with a little cypher salvation / Coz right now it seems like all you cats on vacation / So don't test me, unless you lookin for crucifiction / I'm givin rap fiends a new supply for they addiction...

[MC Skitz]

nice rhyme!!! could you please vote on tha Solid Stylz vs t5p crew battle.

Peace

[mothafunky]

wow! i just read some of my old posts in here, man, that was some weak whack aweful rhyming, but im plannin on spittin something not to bad right here.

"I'm givin rap fiends a new supply for they addiction..."-hangman

rappers more addicted ta my game then downing jr. ta cocaine/
can't get enough of my spits, though i leave them in pain/
slugs in they brain an cats gettin slain, get out tha way while i let mah lyrics rain/
an they splittin u open like a sword-ta-ya-skull/
so get out mah way, when it comes ta rhymin im tha lord-a-this-all/
sick an bored-a-tha-call made by phony mc's/
my lyrics choke em, not lettin em breathe/
their inferiority infuriates me to the greatest degree/
they spit weak lines wit bad rhymes an no complexity/
they lack intelegence, tryin ta express witout creativity/
but they all sound like they spittin all incoherently/
so ima inflict my edict, somewhat like K/
mah lyrical guns don't know tha meanin a fun, im not here ta play...

[Roc]

"...im not here ta play..." - mothafunky

no work, no play, just a regular in your local cypher station/
clearly delivering my rhymes, saving myself from humiliation/
just freestyle, continually spittin' with the beats in my ear/
headphones strapped tight, no pop songs, nothin' queer/
keepin' it short and sweet, y'all should follow it with your critique/
should i say ill flows that can kill, or a verse that's just as petite?/

I'm givin rap fiends a new supply for there addiction" - Hangman


this puritys written yer suretabe trippin
after sniffin all these lines that ya givin
cuz its pure uncut so sometimes one line is just too much
just call me cocaine cuz I show no shame n I'ma fuk you up
worse then your first time puffin a blunt
yo I'ma turn this cypher into one big crack house
where we all come do drugs n blackout
and snakes in the grass cant handle the weight
so I break it in half n slap it in there face
now gums n cheeks go numb yo hows that taste
its a free sample bitch so BLOW ME


edit- just to explain, O.K why my spit is off of Hangman thats because I didnt really notice mothafunkys post, sorry man no disrespect, its just I read hangmans shit and something just clicked in my brain, so I went right to post reply, and as to why its not after J-roc we musta been typin at the same time, pE@[e

....or a verse thats just as petite?" -J-roc

ya best get ready to emcee
cuz Ya heard a writers block, while Im blockin spits
cuz alota kids be talkin shit
while my cypher dawgs rock this bitch
n keep it tight non stop got it
Probably not I switched the flow
still I gotit locked n rip the show
I'm droppin bombs so watch em blow, what?

[mothafunky]

"its a free sample bitch so BLOW ME"-dez. v

all these niggas on my case cuz they girls on my wang/
tellin em ta step off, ain't nu'n but a moorhead thang*/
cuz all these girls i bang be lovin tha way i run game/
straight up cats get ate up an im up in da hall a fame/
cuz i came ta be king, straight runnin-on-cats/
lyrical champion, watch out, im gunnin-wit-gats/
while these weak suckas is jus huntin-wit-bats/
im where-its-at, a Godsend, check tha prophecy/
i got funk, i got soul, so nigga get up off a me/
yo lives get complicated cuz a tha rules i implicated/
leave u missin so much blood u feelin sedated...

edit-me an dez. v posted at tha same time, so this is off his first verse. o yeah, i didn't take ne offense to u goin off of hangman, its all good bro.

peace

[Anaktix]

I'm elated cuz this cypher's kickin-it's-live/
Cats submit spits, make me shuck-n'-I-jive/
I come-and-arrive when it's time to keep it rockin/
We all got free rhymes, fill my hip-hop-gift-stockin/
Rips-is-mad-shockin cuz we mobbin-these-beats/
Naw-we-ain't-stoppin, got cats screamin-retreat/
Stompin-on-feet, well similar cuz we leave peeps moanin/
Spit late into the night, yall can call me Conan (O Brian)/
I'm known-an, mad agile ta flip like the ronin/
Cuz the mic is in my clutches, and the shit I'm holdin's golden/ (my avatar)



Back round again. I gotta hit this thread up more often. I can't keep up with you guys hehe

Peace.

[/i]I'm known-an, mad agile ta flip like the ronin/
Cuz the mic is in my clutches, and the shit I'm holdin's golden/ - [i]Talent

While Talent's microphone is golden, this shit I'm holdin is spiked / Oldschool, like medieval, aight, I cut like a knife / serrated, not premeditated, off the cuff when I take-lives / All you emcees unholy, who rape-wives and forsake-mics / well I direct black and white raps like I was Kurasawa / These masterless samurai (ronin) again displayin they power / swingin katanas, or maybe sling uzis like this was John Woo / Leave you lookin like swiss cheese, bustin your chest-through / part-time spittaz, we bound to impress-you / don't you come around the cypher advertising your battles, foo' / I'll kill you in one word, if your lucky, even two / three if you're a savage cat, but I somehow fuckin doubt that / So quit tryin'a rap about how you randomly flaunt-gats / You're the typa shat I'm prone to verbally at-tack / When I mic check you can kinda taste-tha-death / I'll monosyllabically murder you, and even then it's wasted-breath

[razorbrain]

see, i digress, i love stumpin cats like cut trees/
gale force when i come though, but when i come through, cats breeze//
see, i AM the bar, so raising it is not a challenge/
My talent is a kick-stand, providin yall bikes with balance*//
cypher cirlcle... level of skills here so high/ so live/
to catch a glimpse, you'd need to learn sky dive//
precise optics, seeing thorugh the bullshit so stop it/
when i drop, you look at ya lines, get mad then change the topics//
cause i locked this, and im the only one who can top this/
with more hotness, speak heat: yall thinkin lock's** tropic//
ok ok, now hold down the crowd until we all finish spittin tight/
talent's golden, hang's spiked, and all yall know of the sword mic//
in which i swing, never gat packin/
never haphazrd slashing//
accurate spectacular cuts..when my mic swINGS/
I shock lightNING with typING that is frightnin(pronounced with out the g..ghetto style)/
Across the globe, our grip on the game tightens...//
shit, we take fools, break them and leave them with lost joints/
our frees cleave souls, their pens are as sharp as a ballpoint///

oxymorons lol

pens- meanin writtens
*- shout to talents quote.. a lil paraphrasing
**- lock down is my other stage name
*** a ball has no point there fore cant be sharp..

[Roc]

"our frees cleave souls, their pens are as sharp as a ballpoint" - razor

I AM down on my knees, I AM prayin' for cleaved souls/
fervent in meditation, I AM surrounded by heated coals/
brainstorming, I AM in a state whereas a man internally spits/
I AM Jroc, known to be an emcee who verbally commits.../
... murder, I AM a felon who repeatedly deregulates/
"distrubin' the peace", I AM the one Ludacris imitates/
I AM an original, there can never be any carbon copies/
fuck J from SE*, I AM the assassin of freestyle dummies/
mummies? I AM known to encase bitches in Egyptian caskets/
I AM constricting necks, like poor mice in King Cobra baskets/



* Jroc from Style Elements

mummies? I AM known to encase bitches in Egyptian caskets/
I AM constricting necks, like poor mice in King Cobra baskets/ - Jroc

This style is like an ancient curse, that's somehow been awakened / We reign terror by the verse, with words-shaking, and earth-quaking / Whip up sand-storms that blind even the clearest of visions / Y'all run and hide, can't fight this state of indecision / While we make decisions with precision, to quickly draw that brain out through the nose / With dope "hooks" and sick incisions, we exhume these fucking hoes / Behold, as the sands of time tear asunder / We ressurecting hip-hop to be the world's eighth wonder...

[FromPop2Lock]

Originally posted by Hangman Behold, as the sands of time tear asunder / We ressurecting hip-hop to be the world's eighth wonder... [/b]

I dropped King Kong, without any corse of violence/
those who diss hiphop will be nothing short but silenced/
hangmans span of time ran short/
locolika pans, and his sand of time is caught/
talk about a wonder, but ill give u more of an insight/
20years in storm takin others infright/
from old 2 new, still keepin it real/
tossin aside victims like old orange peels/
head over heels for this 4 way elemental/
so underground u couldnt find it on a rental/
tearin from the cycle so i can lend u all a hand/
step to me? ur better off with a boy band...

tearin from the cycle so i can lend u all a hand/
step to me? ur better off with a boy band... - Pop2Lock

This the type of flow that turns boy-bands to men, yo / Causes their balls to drop and hair from they chest to grow / These the type of rhymes that turn sucker emcees' faces pale / And they pants yellow, like they just got anthrax through the mail / This the type of syle that never fails to amaze-ya / You think you a pla-ya? I'm out a phaze-ya and eraze-ya / With spits that attack the microphone to corrode your dome from way within / mind melts at extreme temperatures that cave your fucking skin-in / I shit-on-ya-grave, the spit-on-tha-name that's been engraved; / "here lies another depraved, frayed, sex-slave"

I aint out ta get payed or get layed
I'm out ta kill ish so I let the lead spray
everyday and effect the game a major way
while yall be playin games I stay the same
remain insane with thoughts sharper then a razor blade
my brain creates flavor waves of sound
for the crowd to taste n drown in bass
as these sounds surround the place
like jakes, in a stake out turned raid
I came ta encage fakes n clean house like a maid



edit-[continuing]

cuz i meditate my mental state adventure to a better place
then ventilate my thoughts as i let the pencil chase
in a race, where its hard to keep pace
I keep face n' keep racin'
keep lacin beats n keep blazin'