by Relapse.LP » Sep 8th, '09, 00:47
Fake rappers I murder first, searching for their made patterns; weak spitters I burn/
I’ve seen beans fitter than Scotty; I gotta use karate cause this potty kid never learns/
I’m the diamond in the dust, yeah, rappers find them and lust, don’t be jealous/
When I read your shit, I “fell-as”leep: what the fuck were you thinking, fella?
You’re a highway accident, you lack content & your whack facts present your weak side/
Please stop rapping, it’s just not happening; what’s sad is that you only speak lies/
Going for Naomi, homie? Or was that another one of your internet pictures?/
The forum scriptures are too advanced; Naomi, go hit her: I know you want to lick her/
So you claim you worked out to be fitter? If you meant rap from that, I must beg to differ/
I’ll kill like Slim “Quitter-ed” Everlast; your loss so big it’ll be published on his Twitter/
You ask the meaning of life: it’s so real MCs can seal wannabe’s into the dungeons/
To slay you, it’s just fun and games to gun my game: as Jay said: this town I’m runnin’/
When you were born, your poor mother exclaimed: “Oh my goodness, what a treasure!”
Your dad added: “Let’s bury this treasure for leisure; it will give me immeasurable pleasure.”/
Your lyrics are pure-shit, if you ever got a record deal, it’d be from Collipark/
Well, you’d be satisfied with your crappy rhymes and what real emcees call folly art/
Anonymo was the first domino, no homo, but you look worse than a normal bozo/
If ever I was forced to collaborate with you, I wouldn’t salivate: I’d probably go solo/
You labeled Solace a faggot, but ask the conclusion of the battle: which user had it?/
We’re not the camera whores with lateral pores, don’t deny the shit, it’s sad isn’t it?/
I shouldn’t combat you with long raps; it’s a strong fact that it’s cruel to fight a pussy unarmed/
But don’t be alarmed, I’ll finish this quickly; you sickly? Afraid of the inflicting harm?/
You seem confused in your life, what strife is fucking plaguing your mind?/
Perhaps God’s creating a sign? Oh wait, you are atheist, forget my previous line/
If my rhymes above made no sense to you, hand me a crayon, I’ll draw the shit on paper, bitch/
The last line was kinda weird because I had to do 25 and I had 24.
Yo, from the first to the last of it; delivery is passionate/
The whole and not the half of it; vocab and not the math of it/
Projectile that them blasted with; accurate assassin shit/
Me and Kweli close like... Bethlehem and Nazareth/
-Black Star, Definition
Live free. Die hard.