Saint
11-21-2017, 04:45 PM
posted 12-30-2001 on UA's UAB Superbrawl
Roscoe Babbage:
Here's my verse.. and my Lumberjack is Psylense..
[insert evil laugh here]
your a nuisance kid, without choosin.. your loosin this brigade
'cross the line' n ya death'll be chosen by the crucifix you made
movin this kids grave, to n enscripted stone when i rip this foe
tried to 'turn the tide' of the outcome, when he 'flipped his flow'
bitches get hit with stones, left missin when i lay you wit rubble
battle? put ya jail record on a disk, jus to 'save you the trouble'
ya flows basic and suddle... to win? ...i'll easily foil ya chance
while ya blueprints tah win expired... sorry i spoiled ya plans
glocks send shots to ya head, to knock off an drop to ya legs
watch as he begs, I'll get caught servin metasin in a hospital bed
press blocks to ya chest, n watch his spine rip threw his mouth
this fake'll go to 'bank my flow'.. to take my skill into account
deminish ya doubts, sins a whore n ya metaphors need'a format
throw ya body on my porch n replace ya corpse w/my doormat
with force to make sure that, you'll be left dizzy to frant about
ya lines are 'addition w/fractions'.. spit mine n yours cancel out
take ya pace, and break ya legs to state an make you pay
Meta's got a 'paranoia of clocks' so he never goes 'face-to-face'
break away, from ya wack flow.. i could easily defeat ya squad
inflict violence to even the score, but still counldn't beat the odds
Sco.. the Emcee; The God, It really sucks that this fucks wack
my verses are perfection, yours don't even touch my rough drafts
i could run laps, around ya ...plus i'm the one that founded you
you get rounds from 3?.. while u just got knocked down by 2
Metasin:
listen yo...
I'll bomb this cat, god he's wack... i'll deliver godly smacks
Rosco 'can't sleep on this sickness', kids an insomniac
i'm nice with words, ya lifes absurd i do not like you herb
i've observed ya veins stop flowin blood, did i 'strike a nerve'?
triflin nerd, i rock hoes so its best to not show
even if u post on time, you'll be known as the 'late Rosco'
with hot flow, while sparrin i am known to harm him
cuz i wear my heart on my sleeve... you just have blood on ya garment
charmin, this kid'll weep, cuz like my knife its getting deep
talk is cheap, im done tip-toeing around im gonna 'end this creep'
ya not emcee, not hot as me, and you're rupturin vets?
wanna bet? you're like perfect shots kid, nothin but net
now ya upset and you've wept cuz ya losin our bout
jealous? u couldnt make a starvin artist eat their heart out
so i'm slammin ya, and with stamina i'll get the victory
but cats think ya in the army cuz ya covered in fatigue
now ya soar in fact, cuz ya whore you're more than wack
so you should just take a hike, kinda like a quarterback
i'm sure of that, you'll get ripped kid, you can't win this
ya verse is like stock market crashes, got me losin interest
now Sin's fists rupture ya jaw, so you know that i'm felt
surprised? just make like ya sex life and get a hold of ya self
lets cut to the chase, ya 'come after me' no doubtin it
boot to ya face, you dont like losin but u get a kick out of it
ya clout is shit, im bangin you constant, face it you lost kid
lemme put my coat on you, just cuz you hang in the closet
ya not shit, with the skill that i wield its best to just yield
cuz I'm the pitcher's mound of the site, above the rest of the field
Roscoe Babbage:
Here's my verse.. and my Lumberjack is Psylense..
[insert evil laugh here]
your a nuisance kid, without choosin.. your loosin this brigade
'cross the line' n ya death'll be chosen by the crucifix you made
movin this kids grave, to n enscripted stone when i rip this foe
tried to 'turn the tide' of the outcome, when he 'flipped his flow'
bitches get hit with stones, left missin when i lay you wit rubble
battle? put ya jail record on a disk, jus to 'save you the trouble'
ya flows basic and suddle... to win? ...i'll easily foil ya chance
while ya blueprints tah win expired... sorry i spoiled ya plans
glocks send shots to ya head, to knock off an drop to ya legs
watch as he begs, I'll get caught servin metasin in a hospital bed
press blocks to ya chest, n watch his spine rip threw his mouth
this fake'll go to 'bank my flow'.. to take my skill into account
deminish ya doubts, sins a whore n ya metaphors need'a format
throw ya body on my porch n replace ya corpse w/my doormat
with force to make sure that, you'll be left dizzy to frant about
ya lines are 'addition w/fractions'.. spit mine n yours cancel out
take ya pace, and break ya legs to state an make you pay
Meta's got a 'paranoia of clocks' so he never goes 'face-to-face'
break away, from ya wack flow.. i could easily defeat ya squad
inflict violence to even the score, but still counldn't beat the odds
Sco.. the Emcee; The God, It really sucks that this fucks wack
my verses are perfection, yours don't even touch my rough drafts
i could run laps, around ya ...plus i'm the one that founded you
you get rounds from 3?.. while u just got knocked down by 2
Metasin:
listen yo...
I'll bomb this cat, god he's wack... i'll deliver godly smacks
Rosco 'can't sleep on this sickness', kids an insomniac
i'm nice with words, ya lifes absurd i do not like you herb
i've observed ya veins stop flowin blood, did i 'strike a nerve'?
triflin nerd, i rock hoes so its best to not show
even if u post on time, you'll be known as the 'late Rosco'
with hot flow, while sparrin i am known to harm him
cuz i wear my heart on my sleeve... you just have blood on ya garment
charmin, this kid'll weep, cuz like my knife its getting deep
talk is cheap, im done tip-toeing around im gonna 'end this creep'
ya not emcee, not hot as me, and you're rupturin vets?
wanna bet? you're like perfect shots kid, nothin but net
now ya upset and you've wept cuz ya losin our bout
jealous? u couldnt make a starvin artist eat their heart out
so i'm slammin ya, and with stamina i'll get the victory
but cats think ya in the army cuz ya covered in fatigue
now ya soar in fact, cuz ya whore you're more than wack
so you should just take a hike, kinda like a quarterback
i'm sure of that, you'll get ripped kid, you can't win this
ya verse is like stock market crashes, got me losin interest
now Sin's fists rupture ya jaw, so you know that i'm felt
surprised? just make like ya sex life and get a hold of ya self
lets cut to the chase, ya 'come after me' no doubtin it
boot to ya face, you dont like losin but u get a kick out of it
ya clout is shit, im bangin you constant, face it you lost kid
lemme put my coat on you, just cuz you hang in the closet
ya not shit, with the skill that i wield its best to just yield
cuz I'm the pitcher's mound of the site, above the rest of the field