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 Posted: Wed Dec 05, 2007 12:24 pm
this thread is for anybody to battle me. jost post your battle.
Rules:
ONLY post battles
NO comments
NO talking
NO votes
NO space invader astroid lyrics
NO s**t that don't make sense
NO complicated flows
NO bolding or italicized, underlined, ect...
NO limit on bars or anything just flow
NO homo a** lyrics that sound like you coming on to me
NO stupid s**t
NO bitchin
NO d**k-ridin
NO blood or crip s**t
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Posted: Wed Dec 05, 2007 3:29 pm
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Posted: Wed Dec 05, 2007 3:41 pm
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Posted: Sun Dec 09, 2007 8:33 pm
if you a real rapper then those rules ain't dumb. that mean yall can't rap worth s**t. cause if you a real rapper then you can spit without rapping about stupid s**t. and read the damn rules NO TALKING. DON'T POST NO MORE BULLSHIT POSTS. immature a** lil kids
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Posted: Sun Dec 09, 2007 10:46 pm
ok listen, u ant on my level when it comes to this rap battle s**t
just go back to ur jail ways, where u trip on bananas and ur cheeks split
I Spit tremendous scriptures, like a continuous pictures a snapshot
Of rap hot, provide an index of pride and complex map plots
Your clout thirst lame and need and outburst of rain to wet grounds
You get clowned too much *****, from the ironic slums I rebound
you on that black panther s**t, ***** ur out dated
god still scratching his head how ur ugly a** was created
the world gatta be thankful u lived in a comminuty thats all gated(jail)
***** ur like a black shirt that been wash, u stay faded
never tlk bout how my pants to low, ur eyes just low fagget, mad cuz u ant packing the tools
never challenge nobody wit my caliber, cuz like me i'll beat u at ur own rules
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Posted: Mon Dec 10, 2007 4:22 pm
lol a lil wanna be ***** talkin a lot of s**t
you are what you eat, no wonder you a b***h
***** you anerexic, muscles you can't flex it
act like you hard but the real version of dexter
them small a** pants you be wearin tryin to sag it low
wit ya tight a** shirt n fitted n b***h shades you show
yea you a hardcore gangsta ridin wit ya teddy bear
smack the s**t out a b***h like you and show you real fear
ain't got no game gotta get a girl off the internet
look in the future see ma d**k cause its gonna be in her next
spittin rhymes that be childish, ***** you immature
stop thinking you hot, ya rhymes quickly went out the door
real talk you is wack and this ain't even rap talk
and if you really was in the hood you'd be laying in the chalk
the number one rule don't spit it if you don't live it
and i can tell from the way you act you don't live that s**t
thats exactly why i put them rules up b***h
i'll pull the axe out the shed and turn you into chopped liver
knocking on wood, I got something to deliver
put ya body parts on a plate like this is christmas dinner
only bitches talk s**t but imma be the one to finish it
ya rep only around here don't make me have to diminish it
you call the d**k fabolous thats why you can't breathe
don't try to test my g when you faker than a weave
tryin to step up in my arena naw ***** you need to leave
words you need to heed cause you really will be a bleeder
too much pain to be helped by anesthesia
you wanna talk about guns well lets do the math
imma take the 44 and split it in half
run up on you with the double deuce
so wild your aces will be callin a truce
so good at burying niggas i make sherlock holmes look like a sleuth
put you so deep underground you'll meet your roots
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