Everybody shut up, y'all don't even know a killa
And I don't give a fuk, not even is ebola illa
I stole ya skrilla and slapped ya like a big gorilla
Hid the pistola down in the villa
Sounds familiar but I can't put my finger on it
So I'm gettin' loco sippin' SoCo and blazin' chronic
My style is hostile and even the ways I flaunt it
Will leave hatas haunted
I taunt 'em coz I love to see 'em get they panties in a twist
Go ahead and miss me with your diss ya little b1tch 4ss sh1ts
Coz nothing so far has come close to even fukin' wit' this
And crushin' you p1ss ants is the reason I exist
See I'm the Grinch and your stench is unbearable
You're a b1tch and your sh1t is just terrible
That's a comparable parable
Your wreck of a vocabulary is irreparable

Dr. Suess
Could tie the noose
Around you,
And for the good
We'd like to hear 'it
The defintive Snap
Take me back
To my childhood
When the neck is thin
And easily snaps
Back
Take it all back
But I don’t
I don’t feel sorry yo
Sorry you gots to go
But ya know
That’s how it go
Until you get to where
Yo’ go
The lonely road
If shared
It’s dangerous
To precarious
To walk
Another’s path
Gotta last
Gotta eek out existence
Here it is
The ugly truth again
Bear it
Or run
I have the open hand
Take life with an open palm

Hey, sorry for your loss. It's okay if you ain't feeling my verses. I ain't feeling yours either. You think rhyming is hard? Proud of them huh? The kind that goes 'My favorite color is green, I like to sit on trees, And later I eat leaves, my first step to metamorphosis'. Oh wait, that's even better than yours! At least there is direction. If rappers follow your bad habit they will never be famous.

B1tch be all smiley since he get to rhyme rookie,
Now you ain’t got no mummy to praise your elementary poetry
First b1tch I hear who is proud of staying off topic
Trading quality verses for irrelevant notions of awesomeness
Loosing focus along the process
You’ve crossed the borders, soldier prepared to get fired
I’m in my 25th 7 star hotel with your chick
Don’t get me wrong, she paid
She’s threatening me and won’t let go of my d!ck
Licking on my pretzel like a nasty snack on the streets
The girl couldn’t stop sending her naked pictures in letters
I’m with my own girl but yeah, I still bang yours later
She called me a star the way I shoot between her inner sanctum
She called me Count Chocula the way she sucks it for breakfast
So, have pity, pal, I’m the rape victim call 9-11 fast

Wadup cuzzie.

Its juzzy the Vector on the set bra.
painting a picture with
Elevated tech ta reflect whatever.
Its the mixture,
The six of my spliffs sipping on liquor
And you know im quick to drop
That hot sh1t
B1tch i sh1t
You not.

So drip drop,

Haha...

Im here to have a word with your
feelings
Because im certain that your verse
will need healing from all
Your murderous dreaming.
Its time to take a line and make it catch,
Put a hook to make it gash
and cast that look at your ***** n rap.
now rap b.
Perhaps youre not much of an athlete
i smash geeks on a track
And stash trees in their takkies.
Then make em run laps with a vaporizer hit
And bit a razor to snack cos my
Raps just shave more days off your act.
Just wait.
K sweet , the lazers intact.

Blasting back in time with the fattest
Rhyme , then shatter vowels with my mind
cos its how i get down.
Im...
with the sound sipping rounds on the north coast,
take caution or youlj see your ghost
My forms eternal

And on that eternal note,
Is where i ponder with vertigo.
Which way to turn with the song? i think
She surely knows.
but if not then like i said drip drop
But the rayne never could be kept
In a wristlock cos fists flock.
So here is the drop,
Unclear,
But im aware that its not
the hip hop that ya sip off.
this is the next gen,
Ya fresh men get pressed when
i start to stretch pens.
And etch trends onto the benches ends
Then kickflip a set of stairs,
with my lyrical impossible,
Flip, collasal rip 007 ****
With not i gotta whip.
I got a whip,
ya get chained ,
that ginger b 1tch
got ya tamed.
Ya dim but timberlands tickle little
Bits of of your brain
The fiction strain
cos sh1ts insane
With little bits of ya brain

its funny when the lyrics don't beef, you try to battle rap but I slaughter mc's
two tech 9's like come bother me please. im the father like a pastor im just blessed with a disease
catch em creepin in a corner and im sorchin his tee, im tryna get atchu sorry I sneezed.
baby mama good she give me head on her knees, she go and get a body then leave on the scene
im sorta kinda hot, im turnin up at the thought, bullets in the air hit the drum on every shot,
niqqas run to get the drop, I never **** wita thot. hollow points to the chest, to the dome it wont make you cough

oh sh1t im already chokin,
na im just jokin,
i got your b1tch deepthroatin,
got that b1tches pu$$y so wet its still soakin,
filled her mouth with so much jizz she started chokin,
alright chill out just start tokin,
bit of that green leaf smokin,
i wrote this sh1t even tho my keyboard is broken,
my inner rap god has awoken,
thats right its over ive spoken.

Originally Posted by Enminem

oh sh1t im already chokin,
na im just jokin,
i got your b1tch deepthroatin,
got that b1tches pu$$y so wet its still soakin,
filled her mouth with so much jizz she started chokin,
alright chill out just start tokin,
bit of that green leaf smokin,
i wrote this sh1t even tho my keyboard is broken,
my inner rap god has awoken,
thats right its over ive spoken.

You're name says Enminem,
It's obvious you like Eminem,
But at least have the decency to spell his name right,
You rhyme and type like a ****ing seven year old, not too bright,
You're raps are like Wayne's,
put a bullet in your brains.
Slim is a lyrical genius,
The way you wrote this sounds like you were choking on a penis.
Nothing is over after you speak,
Bro, you gotta work on your technique,
Your rhymes are a little weak,
Humpty Dumpty fell off the wall, spilled his brains on the concrete,
I'm a white boy and my name might be Paul,
Your rap was a little incomplete.
Finish it off with crucifixion,
Remember me as a artist, creating a simple depiction.

You call yourself a "legend" but we all know you ain't going to heaven unlike me I get represented as a GOD I catch blessing from a fishing rod, I'll have you praising me with a golden crown and have others mowing you down, someone needs to stop this before I get ahead of myself, F*** it somone just hit me over the head with a metal shelf, to stop the madness, against my rhymes you'll need some practice

Oaks trying to claim GOD status, self proclaimed gangster hippies.

No need to wait for it,
escape a chorus and lay the blade on your
Wrists horus, youve been dissed sorta.
with this chord and his daughter,
I watch as you drift through water,
elevated tides affect the script like the
Sh1t grew taller.
yes boo, halla.
I got the fresh new dollar,
dressed intense like 60cents
and the rescued genre
Infects the set, with some sexy mama
To get me calmer,
and fVk a motherfvckn texty comma.

Originally Posted by _RhythmGod_

You call yourself a "legend" but we all know you ain't going to heaven unlike me I get represented as a GOD I catch blessing from a fishing rod, I'll have you praising me with a golden crown and have others mowing you down, someone needs to stop this before I get ahead of myself, F*** it somone just hit me over the head with a metal shelf, to stop the madness, against my rhymes you'll need some practice

Once again we see someone talk about God and heaven.
What's the point in heaven when you're only 5'11?
You're ryhmes are faker than terrorist on 9/11.
Thoughts are diabolical, you'd have better luck getting noticed in the Bermuda triangle.
Wanna talk about God? The only way you'd go to heaven is if you got shot down by the firing squad, God's not real, belive in something like an impregnated seal.

Why have someone hit you with a shelf? **** man just kill yourself.
Not going to lie you're ryhme was quit alarming, but nothings better than the Boston Marathon bombing. I don't need practice, I'm actually whiping my *** with a cactus, **** a golden crown, I like my **** black or brown, go ahead have someone mow me down, I'll lay infront smiling like a happy clown.

Flow so solid wheres muhhamid not boxing *****s out like drake rapping in college my beats are hot you fake rappers are not tryin To tell me you been shot haha you never stepped to a big man living life with your small plans smoking weed and popping purple pills for shrills feeling like your on endless mountains and topping gods statue look at you, you make me sick sicker then a politic arguing with micheal Vick I already know I'm the **** take a axe just to split you rearrange your face your a walking disgrace to this race why don't you take a step back the flow is still solid ill hike a mountain with a backpack full of madraps and **** my 5th grade teacher for four days in my pjs while getting blows from four slaves I'm unexplained and a lil deranged but ill take ice pick and delocate your brain I'm a madman call me Isaac newton I got that potent for fake rappers its called true chainz ill take two chainz and make sure he gets ran over by two trains I'm unstoppable and ill never be buried 6 feet till I finish a sick beat .. I'm out

Originally Posted by Yogi_Madison

Once again we see someone talk about God and heaven.
What's the point in heaven when you're only 5'11?
You're ryhmes are faker than terrorist on 9/11.
Thoughts are diabolical, you'd have better luck getting noticed in the Bermuda triangle.
Wanna talk about God? The only way you'd go to heaven is if you got shot down by the firing squad, God's not real, belive in something like an impregnated seal.

Why have someone hit you with a shelf? **** man just kill yourself.
Not going to lie you're ryhme was quit alarming, but nothings better than the Boston Marathon bombing. I don't need practice, I'm actually whiping my *** with a cactus, **** a golden crown, I like my **** black or brown, go ahead have someone mow me down, I'll lay infront smiling like a happy clown.

You say God's not real
but you're talking about an "impregnated seal"
Rhymes like yours I don't need to deal
step back cause your rhymes aren't real
As you sit there and think you got rhymes
You need to read mine six more times
to understand what it is
Man your rhymes where as bad as
The modern-day jazz
So think next time before you battle me
Cause I'll sting you back like
a bubble bee

I approach you suckaz with my guns raised
I kill you all fast, with one phase
I give nightmares to stupid fuks, cuz they thought of me
They scared of me, God MC
I'm cautiously walkin streets constantly watchin these,
Wack rappers, so much on one damn website
They rap like they born out of some transvestite
Credits to BackInTheBlack, he's rippin you fools
Now it's me with a nut sack that I'm slipping you tools
I'm the cause of the pause in ya breath
Got my claws and my paws on ya neck
The dude above me, rhymes like he autistic
Only dude deserving the title with god is me, I'm artistic
You's a singin qu33r, Imma bring in fear,
Be afraid dog, I'll make you drink ya tears,
Ya swingin near, but you'll never hit one
Three strikes, you're out, with a shot from this gun
Stopped reading your verse at the second line,
Don't even respond, there's no way you're wreckin mine.
I would step on you like I step on rhymes
Back is the only one with a rhyme style thats actually skilled
Yo murder recorded on the crime files, you factually killed,
Anyone who wants to be beefin with me, at least leave some for me,
My ill rhymes that keep on repeat,
Blows these kids out like a leaf on a tree.

Originally Posted by _RhythmGod_

You say God's not real
but you're talking about an "impregnated seal"
Rhymes like yours I don't need to deal
step back cause your rhymes aren't real
As you sit there and think you got rhymes
You need to read mine six more times
to understand what it is
Man your rhymes where as bad as
The modern-day jazz
So think next time before you battle me
Cause I'll sting you back like
a bubble bee

Sting me like a bubble bee? I'm pretty sure it's "bumble bee". An impregnated seal is more believable than someone who has no sex appeal. I don't need to read your rhymes six times, they're worse than Ray Rice when he tries to apologize.
Modern-day jazz is dope, your rap gave me false hope, I thought you'd slaughter me,
You sound like an amputee with a bum knee. How's this for you? One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish, tie a noose and finish it with alcohol abuse. I'm crazy enough to laugh at the latest school shooting, next to Robin Williams in his grave turning, you want to battle bro, mesage me. Ground zero is fully rebuilt, I liked it better burning, people jumping, and conspiracy forming.

Originally Posted by Yogi_Madison

Sting me like a bubble bee? I'm pretty sure it's "bumble bee". An impregnated seal is more believable than someone who has no sex appeal. I don't need to read your rhymes six times, they're worse than Ray Rice when he tries to apologize.
Modern-day jazz is dope, your rap gave me false hope, I thought you'd slaughter me,
You sound like an amputee with a bum knee. How's this for you? One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish, tie a noose and finish it with alcohol abuse. I'm crazy enough to laugh at the latest school shooting, next to Robin Williams in his grave turning, you want to battle bro, mesage me. Ground zero is fully rebuilt, I liked it better burning, people jumping, and conspiracy forming.

Guy you talk about my stuff like yours
are so much better
My S*** makes you girl more wetter
I'll have her bouncin on my D***
Like she was in a bounce house
But instead we'll be in your own house
wearin your mom's blouse
Knock your a** out like Mike Tyson
By my son Bryson
Don't get to scared
poor kid not even your friends cared
For the real rappers out there I give you props as for yourself stick to your day job as Santa's little elf
you got a brain
use it to think next time you Rap against me and stop beatin your meat
So you can praise me as I cross upon the Royal Seat

Originally Posted by _RhythmGod_

Guy you talk about my stuff like yours
are so much better
My S*** makes you girl more wetter
I'll have her bouncin on my D***
Like she was in a bounce house
But instead we'll be in your own house
wearin your mom's blouse
Knock your a** out like Mike Tyson
By my son Bryson
Don't get to scared
poor kid not even your friends cared
For the real rappers out there I give you props as for yourself stick to your day job as Santa's little elf
you got a brain
use it to think next time you Rap against me and stop beatin your meat
So you can praise me as I cross upon the Royal Seat

For the record, I love to beat my meat
I would say "I will smash your head into the concrete",
I'm too sincere and kinda sweet.
You talk about getting my girl wetter,
I'll smash her in the dead winter without a sweater.
Take my advise, shoot yourself.
No one wants to hear about you wearing my mothers blouse.
I am at home right now, always have been not once have I seen you in my house.
I don't have friends in the first place,
I'm always alone on my birthday.
Your son Bryson? He'd have better luck eating the last known Bison.
If you're a Rhythm God, Bend something sick,
Instead of talking about your "****",
Talk about your son?
I wrap it, ain't having one.
I'm not scared of you or your son Bryson,
I'll murder you both and hide your bodies in a trash can.
My Rhymes are hot like red hots, sweet like a sweet tart,
But buddy you're like a mannequin, all body but no heart.
I'm a f*cking ice glacier, you're snowflake,
So, don't hate be real. You're not from the hood dawg,
You want some truth on if your progress is good? Nahh.
So quit rap and stop messin' with me,
You and your son have better luck joining cheerleading team.

Originally Posted by Yogi_Madison

For the record, I love to beat my meat
I would say "I will smash your head into the concrete",
I'm too sincere and kinda sweet.
You talk about getting my girl wetter,
I'll smash her in the dead winter without a sweater.
Take my advise, shoot yourself.
No one wants to hear about you wearing my mothers blouse.
I am at home right now, always have been not once have I seen you in my house.
I don't have friends in the first place,
I'm always alone on my birthday.
Your son Bryson? He'd have better luck eating the last known Bison.
If you're a Rhythm God, Bend something sick,
Instead of talking about your "****",
Talk about your son?
I wrap it, ain't having one.
I'm not scared of you or your son Bryson,
I'll murder you both and hide your bodies in a trash can.
My Rhymes are hot like red hots, sweet like a sweet tart,
But buddy you're like a mannequin, all body but no heart.
I'm a f*cking ice glacier, you're snowflake,
So, don't hate be real. You're not from the hood dawg,
You want some truth on if your progress is good? Nahh.
So quit rap and stop messin' with me,
You and your son have better luck joining cheerleading team.

P**** A** B****, oh I'm sorry
don't mean to be harsh but
posers like you give good rappers
like me a head rush
So keep stepping to me
This is the result you're gonna get
you haven't even got laid yet I bet
And of course your at your house
you'll be there till you 40s anyway
so I'll have the movie remade
and put your face on the cover
And boy you say you'll "smash your girl in the dead winter" but when she realizes
it's not me she'll wish she was dead
and not laying in my bed
so don't try to Diss me out with that weak
as S***
I bet pee wee Herman has better ryhmes
than you
as I think about I know a lot of S***
that raps better than you
for instance :your mom
I'll have her singin
"Oh yes don't stop just make me pop"
Ha don't be surprised if you don't
have a little brother in 9 months
just cause I "smashed your mom's nice little humps"

Just joined seems like a lot of fun. me and my friend did this thru texting all the time it's been a while but I'll give it a shot all fun and games not looking to make a career of it and i give big ups to any who do lol any way here I go:

I rap like its a bad habit
and if rap is crack then consider me a damn crack addict
So I decided to take a crack at it
Look at me now even Chris Brown knows that I'm back at it
You don't come out of the closet
You come out of the attic
Cause you's a fags faggot
straight bitttch made and
your lips are like dck magnets with shyt stains
I'm just playing man
I hope you aint getting offended by what I'm saying man
cuz I'm just playing man or do I speak the truth
right here's the proof all I need is a microphone
I don't need a booth
King Kong of this rap shyt I'll tear off the roof
cuz lyrical fame has me critically acclaimed
just cuz I'm rapping doesn't mean I wont smack the shyt out you physically mane
and we could get physical again and again
start to throw blows to my fist gets sore and your face grows a new nose
I thought I told you boy against me you wont win
you're better off battling Soulja Boy
your old as fck and washed up like corduroy jeans and stone washed denims
Im like a demon spitting venom
poisonous darts
poisoning hearts
rip off body parts and limbs
give you an illegal cesarean
cut off your skin and wear it like a barbarian
don't you ever dare again disrespect this damn mc cause where you stand is where you'll get your azz buried
jus so you know when you hear that rooster cry
it's another wannabe rapper
probably getting crucified

Originally Posted by Kyle Tao

Hey, sorry for your loss. It's okay if you ain't feeling my verses. I ain't feeling yours either. You think rhyming is hard? Proud of them huh? The kind that goes 'My favorite color is green, I like to sit on trees, And later I eat leaves, my first step to metamorphosis'. Oh wait, that's even better than yours! At least there is direction. If rappers follow your bad habit they will never be famous.

B1tch be all smiley since he get to rhyme rookie,
Now you ain’t got no mummy to praise your elementary poetry
First b1tch I hear who is proud of staying off topic
Trading quality verses for irrelevant notions of awesomeness
Loosing focus along the process
You’ve crossed the borders, soldier prepared to get fired
I’m in my 25th 7 star hotel with your chick
Don’t get me wrong, she paid
She’s threatening me and won’t let go of my d!ck
Licking on my pretzel like a nasty snack on the streets
The girl couldn’t stop sending her naked pictures in letters
I’m with my own girl but yeah, I still bang yours later
She called me a star the way I shoot between her inner sanctum
She called me Count Chocula the way she sucks it for breakfast
So, have pity, pal, I’m the rape victim call 9-11 fast

Thanks. No I don't think rhyming is hard. But for some to actually put together verses that actually as good as they claim to be in the lyrics themselves, yeah, I don't think everybody can do it that well. I've certainly seen evidence enough on here supporting my hypothesis... So without further adieu..

Wait... no wait... Mummy? You dummy
Who the h3ll calls there mom mummy
Was that supposed to make your song funny?
Never mind... it's all funny...

You know why?

Something in my mind's tellin' me I've gotta kill
But I'm pretty sure the voices are not for real
Coz I just popped a pill
Because I didn't wanna stop the feel
So it's ok, I feel exceptionably optimal
From some optimal Geronimo and I can't believe this b1tch is talkin' still
Even after I repeatedly beat this freak and knocked him off the hill?
He rhymes like letter room but he thinks he's the boss for real
He's such a clever goon, he thinks he's got appeal
I aint tellin' nobody how to rhyme, I'm tellin' you you're not as skilled
I keep it 100, I'm a boss hog, you're just a dollar bill
You caint fuk wit' me dog, that's why your wearin' a collar still
I'm knock you out like Ali Vs. Holifield, you must be on some krokodil
If ya think ya gonna stop the kill
Coz I'm not gonna stop until the players are off the field