Hip Hop Forum

We need an Official Legit one, so Here it goes.. And You know what to do here, i'll start it off

Some cats will get puffed~ Like oreo stuffs~ tryin to get tough~ Meet the grill of a truck/
I Know Lady Luck~ even got her to give it up ~ She was like papi thats Enough~ But i had to get the nut/
So I had to tie her up~ It was gettin Kinda Rough ~ but shawty's kinda tough, so i had to beat it up/

.. The Beats Get Fucked, No Roster dropping.. We Cut Up Crews,
Sicker With It, got the Illest Lyrics, No need for the Three W's
Roll With a Hundred Dudes, Pause, While your Babies Rocking, Light the Flame on the Cot and Make It Hotter
Ill Play Osama, You will not ''Blow'' even with the Name Da Bomb-/a/

No hate my dude, writers block haha, s'all love

No hate there kid, I blaze this shit, how thee rate this, would be sacred/
Bomb never plead the fifth, or play the bitch, I get rid of chains and whips, like i wish slavery did/

i'm savin rap wavin caps back to get slapped like mavens gats
enslavin rats that aint takin slack to the facts and makin that

keep the vision precise like cats livin at night/
my rhymes are metaphorical- i'm not on my literal hype
I'm coming up quick like I had left residual life
Fuck a war, but I will battle- it's an innocent fight

my mandibles will handle quills fall on you like anvils will
mic cannibal reciting like hannibal with a touch of granted skill
a bastard still I reitterate the imaginable with a tampered pill
swallow it and disperse animals quote me I'm the illest in standard view

Gimme A Ski Mask & Gloves, I'll Vandalize A Pub, Wit' A Ratchet Snub, Snatchin' Dubs, As An Act of Thug/ Then I'll Blast A Slug.. Smack A Few Female Asses.. Grab A Bat Or Club, Swing At A Bar Stool.. Splash Juice Out A Plastic Cup/ Speed Out The Back & Run, Jump in A Black Cadillac, Toss The Bat & Grab My Battle Axe, Look At My Havasack & Extracted Funds!!

lady luck gave me up I said you shady slut
get ur baby's hugs before I send you to Hades UGGHHHHHH

phoney MCs get ripped when I empty a clip, they end up lookin' like a pile of spaghetti and shit
i'm deadly with scripts and mix humor in 'em like The Joker
so call a couple broads and invite 'em over for a night of poker. spike their rum and soda with the date rape drug and bone 'um

yer known for touchin scrotum, cuppin their nuts and stroke em/
Dumpin homo spits, I'll go to yer home and unplug yer modem/
Son yer thuggin's bogus, I'll outflow the roughest oceans/
Plug you with slugs and send yer mother a dozen roses/

lame...


ya gat talkin is just played out wanna be verbal-aggression,
you little kids shootin blanks i turn mah words-inta-weapons
i will urge-and-then-pressure ya wack ass nerds-to-confession
that ur lyrics cannot-cut-it, you bitches should stop-shut-it
you thinkin you hot shit when you midgits is spittin some hot-rubbish..

Like Matt I was bourne to fight, since I took the form of life
in the fetus, worn the mic on my sleeve, striped with adidas
the shine I receive is warm as light, the elitist
I perform tonight as if see this epiphany, Jesus
in the symphony, pimpin me, religious bigotry
since God delivered me, I fought rigorously to be a bigger me

I’m from NORTH 'O THE YEMEN where even the SOFTEST OF FELONS quick to SCOFF AT THE HEAVENS & my horse MEN & BRETHREN'LL put the TORCH TO YA MELON// the HAWK & THE NUEVEN”LL knock you off your high HORSE IN A SECOND// matter fact, despite the LOSS OF A PERKINS, we’ll WALK IN YA DWELLING screaming FUCK THE LAKERS……BOSTON IN SEVEN!!!!!!!!!!!!

I take the white knight of that black horse
Fight back like Dwight Howard on black whores
I score a slight of hand like Copperfield in Disneyland
On the MGM Grand fuck up Alice from Wonderland
On the other hand, i have a freehand to jerk off
So i do it on Mikhail Gorbaciov, and it pays off
Hands off i admit i had a blast off, I'll do it again
Take my pen and write white rhymes over ESPN
CNN sucks without Sean Penn fighting Clark Kent
I experiment frequent rhymes on different times
I'm entertaining like a mute mime that rhymes

I asked-my-shrink if that last stint at-the-clink pushed me past-the-brink//
"il have-to-think" the bastard-chink just laughed-and-winked//
My rorshach reads "rap" when I splash-the-ink words clash-and-link// 
Pass-the-drink  I  flash the green to get strippers to  flash-the-pink//

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