Im Heavenly demonic//
brains fucked up cuz i blaze to much chronic//
sniff things that are too toxic//
Im sick when I rhyme cuz I rock shit//
SdMc's on the map//
Never know when were bout to react//
whether its fist or strap//
gauge or mac//
sit back, relax//
Let angel show you where its really at//
spit rhymes with deadily fluids//
acedic raps// hyrdrochlroic//
semi meta-phoric// leavin this rap cuz i tore it

pounding keys on a board,not pushing dope
the only dope, quotes from my throat..
grab ya coat, cuz we leavin
rope a dope plus bobbing and weaving-
spit shit, have mc's seething..
furious- five mics cant take..
the lyrical earthquake,
melt tapes and crack-
compact discs, and dats
u be amazed in fact..
how wize blaze a track,
now I'm'a switch up the pace, so dont get lost in the shuffle..
kick drum stay muffled, while my snare is crisp
so dont choose to miss, the way I move my lips..
fillin' lines with rhymes on time to boom bap
y'all see I sign my name wize guy.."now who's dat?"

Lemme ask y'all this, what makes a real emcee ?
hmmm, could it be true capacity to rock a M.I.C. ?
easily penetrate ya' ear drums and stimulate receptors..
the lab I chill at, it got more gadgets than dexter's..
more gadgets than inspector's, get dr. claw on that ass...
never see my face just hear a line and I blast..
I rock a party have the ladies wanna take off brassiers,
switch to a rooftop cypher have all the heads taking chairs..
go after me ? u have to be - at "well equipped" status G,
the fallacy, actually, u aint got no mental faculty...
big words dont mean shit if they aint got no meaning..
your plan like Wile E.'s it'll have u careening..
off a cliff, u riff with the wiz-matic funk bringer..
extend my middle finger...... cuz i'm the bell ringer..
or bell rocka', my style is ruff like taaka vodka,
members-only jacket, with blue blockas while i drop ya.

[Anaktix]

Ummmmmmmm..........I haven't posted in awhile. Sorry bout dat. So here's a freestyle but I don't know how many people will actually know what the hell I'm saying. Oh, and people should remember that in a cypher you flow off the last person (w/their last rhyme or topic.....). Anyways, here it is.......




Yeah ya drop, tippin out flip the top/
I'm back to rock this shit, been a minute since I've spit/
But check the shit and listen kid...........

Playin heavily into the straight flush he dealin me/
Metaphorically talkin back to back before the beat/
Gettin corny but shit's borin so check the soarin......./(coughing)
Heavily blunted, (hah) you could say I'm high/
Vision blurry stunted, spit the ANSWER ta "why?"/
Cuz questions flip directions causin the answers ta cry/
I dip into the forces causin knowledge to try ta trip/
The script is switched so this snitch gettin subdued/
The rich flip positions, now politeness gettin rude/
Shit's flippin spots, no clue of what ta do/
The ice tops meltin sun spots, questions clot and raise anew/
It seems the answer's only owned by a few/
Just grab your hand split the fingers and hold up those first two..........Peace..........

increase the peace, north south west and east
unity thru a beat, y'all feel me when I speak ?
as I drop it on a topic -
dont matter how microscopic
grab a biscuit up and sop it...
savor the flavor cuz its not stoppin - checkit ...
Yo, I forgot more rhymes in one single day -
than all you kids put together in a lifetime could say
cut a vein on my body and you'll hear my heart beatin
metronome keepit steady constant the hook keeps repeatin..
wr. wesson himself could get no slicker than this..
this flows the shit- more twists than the mighty mississipp
I insist on one hundred percent pure dopeness.. be released
my thesis sweet like reeses pieces ..
colorful treats for E.T. - "girls tee tee when they see me,"
a rolling stone you just a bee bee, and y'all still cant see me..
sucka mc killah, i'm'a dj destroyah,
house party mashah, I know I annoy ya'
lyrical lessons get dropped no matter, stone cold or wasted..
registered almighty- no cut, no copy, and no pastin..
bastin' layers of flavor for true players..
defacing lairs of so called rhyme sayers..

i'm slowin the pace down, so i can point out some-details
cuz i been catchin niggas sellin rhymes like they was on-retail
fuck that, wherever you from; north, south, east-to-the-west
fukin biters like to surf around and feast-on-the-best
gold bullets unleashed-on-ya-chest, nuttin to protect you, not even police-and-they-vests...
these bitches want "slick marks" so they put "grease"-on-they-"tests".
suck up bitches... in the bathroom so they be pissin-wit-me... shit, i'll put em in a barrel n' launch them down the mississipi...

just a quick 3 minute verse i did cuz i'm on a break from work......
keep rappin guys.
peace

i spit intlelligible verses you cant handle,
breaking niggas thoughts into dismantle,

see niggas talk hard and violent till i find the solution
ill have niggas silent when it comes to retribution,
see what was just words becomes somatic,
total havoc glory days end up tragic,
utilized tactics niggas taste my autamatic,
body cold rapped in plastic,
ill have yall niggas waking up wit nightmares
walking through a maze
we set up conclaves that setup graves
and on his tombstone it wrote
TOMBSTONE
i was a problem child
grew up in the hostile
had to be tuff
cas they would proove you fragile
inside i always asked who cares
blurry messages of me dead sent in night mares
I WENT TO BED SCARED CAUSE WUT WAS TO COME I WASNT PREPARED,
there was an evil inside
that set my tone
when i saw life
i always felt alone
wut the mind doesnt see the eyes dont beleive
so wut the eyes dont see the mind doesnt beleive
see me i wanted to see
but i was cought in a illusion
tried to fight out but in confusion
i made my own prognosis
while hopen for a merical
he put me through hypnosis
my expession was hystarical
now im released from the pressure
but also released from my chance
i was always alone
thats wut brought me to my tombstne

written by:Libel

[razorbrain]

...my tomstones too large: the epitapth's a paragraph/
32 lines or 16 bars? you do the math//
see which one, you prefer, more than the other/
or am i misleading, tearin your mind a sunder//
the padlock...add the shackles once i step to the stage/
raps hold the cypher down like im standin on its rib cage//
rip frames, slit manes: even piss on crip niggas/
check the bowl: never drop wack crap, but still the shit spitta//
ILLA than ever..but well enough to chin check and leave that ass rocked/
grab my crotch with both hands, stepped to the mic flowin half cocked//
sweatsocks, hoodies, jackets, pants and caps/
bringin the temp below zero(subzero): flows get ya lips chapped//......



hey how ha it been? been alil busy aint been on this weekend, im back on here doin what i love to do.. lets keep this goin yall, oh and talent, you have to follow the last word the person before you said.. its just one of the ways you can do it.. you can jupmin the cypher so to speak, anyway you want.. hell you can start off by tkain the last persons rhyme and spittin it backwards lol anyways lets keep it flowin..

[Anaktix]

My lips chapped as the thermo hittin eighty/
For real G, hating Phoenix thoroughly burnin me/
I gotta stop ta see my skin deliberating/
Waiting while skin cells migrating/
Gyrating while fading ta black, Razor sharp lyrics intact/
I pack strictly Sub-Z weaponry/
Counteract and crack a wack emcee/
Back the clock up, mechanical surgery/
Perjury would be if I lied but check the time/
The minutes done flipped a tenth of a nine/
Feed ya next verse off my last line.........

Peace.

The minutes done flipped a tenth of a nine/
remembrance divine, my intent is ya find//
lyrics in minds, wont leave like old spirits in mines//
hear it as crimes, or think what you want//
when ya cant forget what i spit, ha! my lyrics i flaunt//
accept it or not, its like i embed em wit surgury//
involuntary words ta be, heard when seen//
i rip guts and burn ya spleen, murderous scenes//
geeky rap nerds like "hes mean!", bitch im killin ya dreams//
unwillin it seems when im attackin ya drops and brain//
could call me a referee-cop gone insane, the way im fuckin lockin ya game//

§ peace §

I operate the game like a referee / Exile with every spit reduce emcees to rhyme refugees / Crush criminals convicted of felonies / Freestyle freak fantasies, you, a player? That's a fallacy. / No penitentiaries for these emcees / Just mandatory minimum death penalties / Lyrical lobotomy in rhyme laboratories / Pre-mortem examination of fiends I put in quarantine / My hypothesis, these suspects got no backbone / You spineless, shouldn't be allowed to infect another microphone / Check the bile collecting in your spleen / I'm obscene, obnoxious, vile, flooding your chest cavity / Blood clots congest arteries, restrict air to ya brain / Inducing cardiac arrest, constricting bitch-blod veins / Till the pulse drops, eyes roll back in they head / Next, the brain stops, sucker's clinically dead…

[Anaktix]

Aight, I hate when this happens and I end up on the next page....

Here's the end of Hangman's verse and mine:

I'm obscene, obnoxious, vile, flooding your chest cavity/
Blood clots congest arteries, restrict air to ya brain/
Inducing cardiac arrest, constricting bitch-blod veins/
Till the pulse drops, eyes roll back in they head/
Next, the brain stops, sucker's clinically dead/


He fed on dropped tops, said "fuck the cops walk"/
But none of it matters, instead of pumpin, his heart stops/
b.p. (blood pressure) drops, tattered, this kid's bled red/
He heads for the emergency surgery/
Hopefully this kid's heart will cease ta beat/
Switch ta dead meat he won't make it ta see another/
Flip off the covers, tip the scales, I'ma smother his brother/
And lover cuz I'm on a killin spree/
Freely murdering every single person I see in his family tree/
Usually, I'm not violent but I guess it had ta happen/
Hangman restrictin brain circulation so I'm snappin when I'm rappin/
Flappin my jaw while I'm breakin umbilical cord laws/
Doesn't make sense? Aight, I'll crush ya a black hole/
A wack soul the grim reaper hold but he can't touch me/
Gettin really bold, sittin in a crusher but the shit just ain't crushing/
Rushing ta hear, ya get nothing/
Meanwhile I'm grabbin more than something cuz I'm holdin ya opposite/
I'm strictly thumpin cuz I rock this infinite freestyle shit...........

Spread infinate, like the bounds of space, discraced rappers hide they face / they lost the rat race, couldn't match the pace, this tight mic embrace / Cypher Elite Space Invaders flay haters with Razors / Supernova suckers get blown like ded quazars / Should'a singed a waiver, war rhymes like "you's a faggot" / It's apparent; we emcees with much Talent, spit jewels of higher carat / Dazzle sucka emcees, leave they eyes blind / Lyrical visionaries, enhancing yo stupid mind / Rhymes with much depth and bredth, Freelance soldiers / Opposition collapse at they weak-ass shoulders / Couldn't take the pressure from heavy shit we spit / We just too slick on this freestyle tip/ Whack contenders snap at the muthafuckin knees / Hangin emcees from they family tree…

and theres a whack emcee on the tree for every season
cuz beleive in beatin whack emcees until they bleedin'
yes, I beleive in freedom, beatin whack emcees
till there Heart rate falls flat and they stop breathin'
Now the only beat they ever held is gone
I sent his ass to hell somebody better tell his mom
and send her my reguards cuz he tryed ta play hard
so I pulled rank and had to take charge
Just call me sarge my armies large
and ya heard of shootin' stars while there fallin fast
gettin jacked for there wallet n cash
and I aint even have ta flash a gat
Cuz I just blast my raps at cats
and they all stand back cuz my plan of attack
is drastic, if it looks like plastic, smash it
I destroy toys they get there asskicked
I spit with bBoys we makin classics
destroyin decoys were never passive
Its a mass attack on all these whack kids
that cant spit in these rap threads

I step into the Rap thread, wit intentions ta crack headz/
yall duck as if i spat lead, takin out the rest left by my man Dez
n if i die yo ill spawn back, bring sum strong raps ta combat/
cuz i taunt cats that flaunt gats, yall know where tha bombs at/
the Dons phat, im atomic, suicidal like islamic/
back on track and no ones on it, flowin phonics, wit an unknowin Tonic/
.................................

fuck im done i gotz tha writers [].

Peace