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lets ryhyme, for i aint got the time, to wait to someone to grow a spine and spit just one line, i now i must rise to the mic and some how show all you the light, in order to have a desent online fight.
i like butter and pancakes bitches! i put syrup on my but so what! when i whip i use my hand like the people in afghaniskan! I GET MORE PUSSY THEN A LITTER BOX!!!
there's a cult for this already, and use the search bar "noob,"
is that you doing the numa numa dance i just watched on you tube?
it's not a fuckin freestyle when u got time to think,
it's only a freestyle in person, watching your opponent try not to blink.
so let's take it to the street, club, or wherever you want,
i got rhymes real thick, you're flaky like a croissant.
and let me make this clear now so no feelings are hurt.
if i say anything offensive or make fun of you or something, i'm seriously kidding, so don't get like mad or something. im not the kind of kid that would actually like "battle" i just can't make fun of people.
dodge the pitfalls of monotonous compliance
a loud voice shatters every single significant silence
ahead of the violence, behind the times
shake the strife of the science that categorizes the lines
call me crazy, I'd rather be, the sane are all boring
forget the troubles let go because even falling is soaring
in a way, anyway i realize only real eyes see through the real lies
a fake face makes the greatest disguise
so hide your feelings no one wants to see them anyway
besides, it's bright enough to see fine during the day
the trees- so curiously they sway
mother nature, her branches symbolize her dismay
it goes a tisket a tasket
it all went to hell in a green and yellow basket
yo your poser skiing pussy's
man your flows be so mushy.
ya'll white
i guess thats ight
just dont be frontin it on my mountain
cuz bitch this aint a chagrin,
i rap for real,
you bought your rhymes at 711 for a steal,
butt poo, hell no you didnt,
i dont think you know who i be,
i own what this be,
you think your fresh in the rap game,
our rhymes are from 06
learend all from the flicks,
guess what nigga Radio aint gangstah,
i hear your flow its retarted ,
same noise you make when your on our girlfriend
OPGHD{:"GL"HJD"LS"JSGDG,
shit son give up
niggaz be slangin in ther pantyhoez
i be gangbangin in ma brand new clothes
i gotta car, i gotta truck
niggaz alwayz askin "who da fuck?"
frankenberry bitch, i be runnin this game
and dontchu forget ma newschool name
my rhymes are simple, my beatz are tight
i got the flow that keepz ya sista up all night
bumpity bumpity bumpity boo
im that nigga who be cookin beef stew
you drop a dime, i drop a line
thats how i be rollin since the beginnin of time
you be thinkin 'man this shitz wack"
but i bet you don't carry crack in a pack
i bet you don't stack the crack
i bet you don't laugh when i about to smack
nigga frankenberry, i say it again
you can ask your buddiez you can ask your friendz
cuz i'm that nigga rollin in the drop top benz
I guess i'll write a little rhyme, instead of doing math,
"Keith don't slack again, you don't wanna go down that path."
They told me to stay focused, and concentrate on a goal,
Instead i'm left here now, digging into a deeper hole.
I only like school for the girls, I stare and they stare back,
Sure I could get great grades, but motivation's what i lack.
So i just sit here everyday, staring into the monitor screen.
I don't like school or work, i'm just like every other teen.
Everyday i wait to find that lucky four leaf clover,
But all i can hear in the distance is 'Lil Flip tellin me "Game Over."
seriously i have so much math hw and i just wasted like 2 minutes doing this instead
for gods sake i dont understand why all you bitches be fakeing
you clearley dont get it that i spit the rhyems and get the chetta
i am not to nice with the flow but i hope you know i spit the fire like a blow toarch it chars and schorches all you
and your rhyems are all elementy so i might have to take you to school dont you niggs know who i am its GNUSTREETFOOL
Yo, the names rob, I like corn on the cob, I aint no slob, dont call me bob, I wish I had a job, I just broke the door knob, my dad got killed by the mob, Id love a nice shishka-bob
yo rob is it true you like to slob on guys nobs?
thats not cool but i aint hatin is it true are you dating other guys and is it true do you like ture butt mud pies?
Yo gnustreetfool, youre a tool, I like corn on a cob, not guys sweaty knobs, If you like talkin bout that, talk to your mutt, because my dog just screwed it up the butt.
haha yo i dont have a dog but if i did i bet you and him wouldnt get along
he also would rap better than you and i might just name mini gnustreetfoo
i would go on but the libary is closing
big daddy mac it's the new frank black
you think your rhymes are original
i think your rhymes are hella wack
mothahfuckahs think they run the internet
but all the cats on here is what i disrespect
frankenberry baby you better learn the name
cuz i'll probably get banned and it won't be the same
reprezent the jackson 5 and just like james brown, i'm stayin alive
bitches on my nutz while i smack em in the face
cuz i don't mind puttin bitches in their place
you tryin to wonder what's on my mind
time, crime, and the way the beat with chime
this is my last line like the last dance turn
but all you niggaz will alwayz be dirty wormz
Yeah i guess ill free style,
for you that means,down the dial,
Pick up your board,
lets go,
gear up and jump,
how we flo,
My snowbording skills dont glo,
Free stylin is my sho,
and i even got a fro,
i just gota let you kno,
now lets go back and rewind that,
i would realy love to see one ya'll grind that,
im TheBigE and now you know,
skat!
Relax and take notes, while I take tokes of the marijuana smoke
Throw you in a choke - gun smoke, gun smoke
Concept_dude for mayor, the rap slayer
The hooker layer - motherfucker say your prayers
Hail Mary full of grace.. smack the bitch in the face;
Take her Gucci bag and the North Face
Off her back, jab her if she act
Funny with the money oh you got me mistaken honey
I don't wanna rape ya, I just want the paper
The Visa, kapeesha? I'm out like, "The Vapors"
Who's the one you call Mr. Macho, the head honcho
Swift fist like Camacho, I got so
Much style I should be down wit the Stylistics
Make up to break up niggaz need to wake up
Smell the indonesia; beat you to a seizure
Then fuck your moms, hit the skins til amnesia
She don't remember shit! Just the two hits!
Her hittin the floor, and me hittin the clits!
Suckin on the tits! Had the hooker beggin for the dick
And your moms ain't ugly love; my dick got rock quick
I guess I was a combination of House of Pain and Bobby Brown
I was Humpin Around and Jumpin Around
all you bitches are biting and spiting shit thats pre written
i straight up disrespect all you pussy kittens like you were woman hitting
not cool and not right despite all you bitches i am the only one to take flight with the rhyme skillz i am crazy like peeps over doseing on pills and i dont make any money to pay the chetta but i still get by and dont even think to deny it