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I'm accepting all challengers in a freestyle battle. Just P.M me for details...

*coughs* Drago

Aight' you called me out, so, lets see it.

Hurricane.
Midwest.
Chi-town. Represent.

Your rhymes are tight but in the since of a toilet paper roll,
Weak, soft, and flimsy, and wiped on my a** as a whole,
My goal is to straighten you clowns that are clumsy,
So many running around here like a circus among me,
I'm a Bun B, raised in the South, straight out of the slums,
You a hungry b***h, tryin' to fill your mouth with some crumbs,
You bums shoot off your yap, while I shoot off my guns,
Puns, metaphors, I raise all of hell Monday to Sunday, back to back,
Got you bleeding crimson, like a period everyday out your a** crack,
You lack the fact that you only act the part;
But in theater you get straight A's at the mark,
For your man-boob rack, not your lyrics, they get whacked in the west,
And this ain't a puberty phase your tryin' to shrug off your chest,
How you gonna best the best, if your still crawlin' out the nest,
Lest I remind you, the facts, like your families relation, incest,
Your the pest, I'm the pesticide, your the man, I'm the genocide,
My flow will destroy you inside, like AIDS spread by lies,
And you won't rise from the ashes, you'll be buried alive,
Like the knife, takin' your live, and lockin' you in the casket,
A tisket a tasket, front with me, and get tossed in the body basket,
Take your face and mask it, like how I drive my Phantom over your opera,
This ain't fantasy, ninjas don't got no chakra, instead,
I head chumps like you to get stuffed into their lockah's,
I'm a precision glockah, from the Midwest, we're far past reckless,
You should listen unless you feel comfortable tryin' to floss your necklace.


Aight, theres a shabby one I whipped up for ya.

Hmm...

I'm the angel of death
and I think you're next
it's time to take your last step
and breathe your last breath
because for some reason
you got in your mindset
that you're the almighty
you're superb and you're the best
in the words of Nikcel
you're a phony a fake a fraud
am I'm not gonna start kissing a**
cause you're a mod
you claim you go so hard
but your rhymes are made of fluff
so right now in this rap
i'm callin your bullshit bluff
you live in a fantasy world
under a house of cards
you empire's gonna crumble
because I have done my job
you say you come from GI?
what are you trying to say
I hail from Baltimore *****
we'll cap on you any day
so before you try to get me
you'd better just do the math
I shitted on you and Jashu
now watch me sit back and laugh!

(please don't ban me...)

Hurricane. Midwest. Represent.
Man, I'm tired of burnin' you fools, So I'ma let you sizzle slow,
I'll take your nappy a** out in a single flow.

I'm tired of playin' now, so here we go.

Stay on guard, my toxic lyrics burn like acid,
My rhymes are hard, while yours are soft n' flaccid,
My name? Hurricane, no need to ask it,
Cuz dasit' your done, say nighty-night son,
My balls been on your chin since 1991,
And the sun, --blown away by Hurricane's typhoon,
My Baretta bites you b***h and howls to the moon,
Boom, Baltimore burned and buried to bits,
Along with the rest of you wannabe gangstas with tits,
I'll fill you with clips, before a word crosses your lips,
Like Bloods and Crips, leave you blue and red,
Got the American Flag tattooed into your head,
Dead, fool, we leave you shot, and snatch your shorty in the Midwest,
And you can come back, when your crew ain't a d**k-less,

We're taking the Freestyle thread with full force! Time to kill 'em Ace! Let's show them what B-More's really about.

welcome to my town
i'll cut it quick and shut you *****'s down
no clownin around
leave you in a trunk gagged and bound
where is your style?
you got it from the ******** lost and found
but Jamie Kennedy needs to get it back safe and sound

I'll give it all i got
full speed ahead on my yacht
i'll drop my anchor down here
cause your head is the docks
you're just another wannabe
you *****'s can't stack up to me
cause I'm the only real O.G
come on, let's show em who we be

You say you ******** with the midwest
well ***** you've just lost
the only thing gansta about the midwest
barbeque sauce
and with you weak a** rhymes how the hell are you the boss
***** I'll stress until I'm blue just to get it across

let's put up baltimore posters
cause we're the dopest I approach this
with ease you ******** sleeze
bottom line, you're hopeless

as this rap overload builds
the rhymes just keep on spillin
we're fighting majin buu
***** think of your own villian
because when I penetrate
it's for certain it's pure hurtin
I go hard as steel
my footwork is blazin
for you it's curtains

you'll never see me runnin
you'll never see me surrender
I'll lay you out then walk away like there's no other contender
I render you bitches tender
career ender
run up with one with knock outs
got you switchin your gender
put up your dukes
these coooks wanna blow up like nukes
nothing but flukes
i'll send all you coooks crying to ma dukes
so go on and start runnin
i'll give you a head start
you'd leave your pride right here if you were really ******** smart

go on and take off running kids
knock you both down like the twin towers
better scram and don't come back through my hood
this is your final hour

Hurricane.
Midwest still spinnin' twisters around you soft bitches.
Lets see some lyrics instead of these weak gimmicks.

I don't disrespect no town, you do it yourselves,
I'll knock your heads off, and display em' on my shelves,
Snap, crackle, and pop, my drop, decimates you elves,
Cells, filled with chumps from this circus called B-town,
I ain't laughin', but there sure as hell ain't such thing as a G-Clown,
Hear my sound? The hurricane is comin' in, and it's pourin',
How you gonna play me, when my girl, Katrina ******** up New Orleans,
Leave you as orphans, jack a plane and run it through your house,
Don't plee with pity, I've seen you with chicks that have dicks in their blouse,
I'll smoke out a mouse, and the rest of your rats too,
Because in Chi-town, we drop the silence and let the gats brew,
Screw over your ancestry and leave em' in body bags,
So go d**k around with each other, I know you two are naughty fags,

Hurricane. Midwest. Still whoopin' ya a**. Check.

They call me Hurricane cuz I storm emcees dead,
They call you Maddiox cuz you sick in the head,
I'll murder you b***h while you play with a d**k in your bed,
Leave your bedspread red, after I let loose the led,
Chi-town ain't got time for you shy clowns,
After we bury you bitches, you'll know not to ******** around,
Windy city, thats where the thugs n' hustlas at,
Baltimore, Maryland? Where the ******** is that?
Hurricane will levitate you fools off the map,
Then have your girl foolin' with em' on his lap,
Your mouth is like an a*****e, spittin' a whole lot of s**t,
I'm gonna constipate it with death, so you'll be spittin' out a clip,
You wanna be my homedawg, , so obey and sit,
Matter fact, play dead, cuz we'll shove a gun in your c**t',
When people talk about Chi-town, it does get quiet,
Cuz bitches choke when they hear Hurricane reign by it,
Jenny Craig mother ******** sayin' he runs the trap,
Next thing you know, he'll run with waterguns in his strap,
Aight' I'm game if you say you wanna knuckle up,
But your on a ride to hell, so you better buckle up,
Stomp on you with rhymes that cut like a switchblade,
While your down there, tell me how my d**k taste,

Midwest. Hurricane. Chi-town fine.