Saint
01-16-2018, 07:04 AM
Burying the Hatchet-HG Collab (posted on 11/99)
Psychlone
Mpire
E.L.I.T.E.
I Aim so High when writin lines that shine appears in the heavens
Then Air out lungs with so much Force you'd find delerium tremens
Clearly evidence of carnage when tarnishin reps
No varmints are left you couldn't climb charts with a harness and vest
Stick to varnishin steps quit treatin rap as a hobby
Ho's tell I've rung so many bells they say I'm trapped in the lobby
You're screamin "Master don't flog me" with that awful cat-o-nine-tails
Sawin holes in bats of pine failed it's time you act to find Grails
For the search to be dope try and prove you scribes have mauled vets
When switchin styles so many times en route your Tribe is called "Quest"
The way you're dogged you'd think I hauled pets I bet you're pretty bitter
In a city slicker I "trash" more "pussies" than kitty litter
Quip emitter, fuck switch hitters with "bi-polar" disorder
When Psych rolls up get slaughtered til the line that shows up gets shorter
~R~ the ~Rho-botic Rho-nin Warrior (aKa) R.O.C.C.
My whole persona will bomb ya calmer then eye's of hurricanez/
My sic preverted brain will make "Rho" the word for Pain/
niggaz ya'll heard of Kane well that's just how my wordage came/
This verbage game workin' till my words disturb ya brain/
My Perfect strain of DNA is just genetically phatter/
So who be lettin' you rappers rhyme pathetically after/
dis nigga Rhoceez must wanna see ya end ya career/
Cuz I'ma scramble ya grey matter when I enter ya ear/
Lend me your ears! Your ending is near, so write your will up/
infectin' ya'll niggaz when i'm slicin' you up wit ill cutz/
I'm still nutz, like scrotums sacks, i'll blow the track/
keep a loaded gatz for niggaz who think "The Rho just raps"/
Hold it Black!, don't end up "blessed" wit a "holy back"/
leave you cold in sacks,in a drawer cuz ya toe been tagged/
HOLY CRAP! whut i'm sayin's, displayin' more then amazin'/
I'm beatin' niggaz who step like Alpha's going through hazin'/
PsychoMantis
The earth is a cess pool my voice steady contributing/
MCs run and scream IT's HIM AGAIN!!
Showing less balls than their mouth is exhibiting/
Call me a synonym...
I'm the reason our elders hate rap/
I beat an old lady head in with a eight track...
While screaming loud BITCH TAKE THAT!!!!
I mistake gats...
For drugs and a way to escape reality/
MCs scared to battle me...
Always wanna ride my dick Next time bring a saddle please/
My Sexuality...
Is transparent my mom wanted a girl/
So she locked me in the room with Lewinski and Bobbit armed with a blunt
and a pearl/
I grunted and twirled...
Woke up next day with half a testicle/
Threw the nurse off the Vest a view...
Being hauled away I screamed MY MOM GAVE BIRTH TO ME HAVE THAT BITCH
ARRESTED TOO/
I'm a special brew...
More black in me than Nicole Simpson/
Except my whole pigment...
Lacks more dark streams than this flow sentence/
Ya'll should take on the troll gimmick...
Then it will be easier to suck dick/
No I'm not saying your gay just saying YOUR WHOLE STYLE SUCKS BITCH!!!
Anyways good luck with...
Cleaning up that shit my vocals left/
You wanna promote death threats...
I'll use your cords as a pipe and smoke yo breath/
Bladerunner
{5}mc{Z}
Unless you're an 'Irish Alyssa Milano', there's no way that you can
'Charm' me/
More 'private' then shy hemaphrodites, who just joined the army/
No one can harm me, or alarm me, bout to blow up like a bee sting/
I'll 'pick' up a sexy 'harp' player, and rip off her 'g-string'/
You'll see things, my rants induce trance, just one glace shows Blade's
the best/
I'll rip the flesh from your chest, till it hangs loosly like a vest/
I'm not impressed, your skills are 'standard', that's the reason that
i'm 'stalling' ya/
Your rhymes are so 'poor', you'd get left off team Somolia/
Out brawling ya, most kids are useless, just say my name an you'll smell
piss/
Bladerunner's so goddamn phat, that Oprah Winfrey's ass got jealous/
Best run fellas, cause when i talk shit, my whole mood gets explicit/
I'll pick up the biggest battle board and bash your teeth in with it/
My skill's gifted, can't compare it, I'll 'doo you in' like a 'hair
net'/
With rhyme styles so 'magnetic', that a 'polar' couldn't 'bear' it/
Me and Shot 'share hits', like friendly addicts, two of the illest so
far/
We'll 'crash' your hard drive so fast, that ur desktop needs a 'roll
bar'/
I'll go far as my co star, getting more cunt then Bill's cigar/
The 'sex freak' who wears a trench coat, and 'flashes 12' like VCR's/
Skeletor
G.H.A.T.S.
Fuck tha torture shit ima just go ahead and kill these lames[
you 'going down' like 'Stewart' and you about to feel tha 'Payne'[
im still tha same, real vein, smack bastards stigmatic trackmaster[
punch mc's in they chest and leave bones in they back fractured[
tha evalaster, swingin sickles at tha back of ya neck[
get laughed at when ya hunch over and ya foreheads tappin ya chest[
ravegous vet, i wreck hoes, quickly alerted, sick basterdly mastery[
reject foes, me bein murdered, has to be falacies[
its sad to see, drastikly mc's thrown in tha trenches[
savagely, snatchin out his mandible tha moment he flinches[
Trojan Hentchmen, grab ya FLOWtation device cause ya drownin[
you think you can win without ya 'vocal cords'? how you 'soundin'[
volume surroundin, my mic soundwaves make a cloud, upon it i hover[
punch a hole thru ya head so everything goes in one ear and out tha
other[
my whole styles intangible, impossible to get a hold of[
i ripped ya 'heart' out ya chest and you wunder why theres 'no love'[
ya get disposed of comin at me spittin those trash raps[
leave 'trackin devices' hangin out ya butt, cause you got ya 'ass
tapped'[
Sephiroth
Seph's tha gothic ghost in darkness, footsteps causin loud thumps/
so sick I sucked ya chick's tits & tha next day she found lumps/
emcees get buried, despite leavin kids hung like juries/
despite bein so ill AIDS won't kill me, it'll cure me/
kidz is still sayin "I've heard you spit betta"/
true, but you ain't eva spit equal to my worst shit, neva/
makes me feelin like throwin on a hockey mask/
and slaughterin copycats/ chopped up so bad they're usin ziplock
bodybags/
only Seph could bring such supernatural unholy wrath through/
cut off my own head, set it aflame and throw it at you/
explosive mental will cause detonation on impact/
covering a 30 mile radius leaving no body parts intact/
I attack wack rap acts and rip biters/
blow up like trip wires, tha Vamp- gets burned at tha -pyre/
Karnage or Vlad, no matta my name all who battle me/
find victory a virtual impossibility, just ask Technicality/
vote for yourself thrice and only win by one weak vote/
my style's so blazin I could give a solar flare a heat stroke/
there's not even vague hope of survivin my unique quotes/
come so deep I impregnate chicks from bustin when they deep throat/
behold tha GLOW/ tha 'Roth says know ya role/
I chop more heads den lumberjacks locked in a room of totem poles/
I wrote the scrolls on emceein, tha demon supahuman/
I'm tha illest nigga alive, and I believe it's been proven...
Versatiile
DYNaSTY
Emergence
V's farther apart from wackness than Anna Nicole's nips post left breast
mastectomy/
expressin death to these text MC's, movin through 'em absolutely
effortlessly/
essentially, MJ's grade three teacher gradin one o' his papers couldn't
mic-check with me/
expressin elite darts so hard, leaving biters' gums scarred with
incredibly dented teeth/
cause they head to be bent back more so an alcoholic paraplegic sippin
stout through the spine/
spittin nouns well designed to the point that if it's the joint,
s'either my rhymes or a cat mimicing mine/
kickin infinite divine lines, dope concepts past the whole contents of
the Most High's coke supply/
potent refined, successful suicidals knew how this guy do, all V's
former opponents were hopin to die/
total quotable quotient of rhymes, got crews of mute monks 'n mimes
mumbling my shit/
stunning with spits, gotta come down to y'all when i run sound, as if my
nuts were above my dick/
funneling in tons of scripts flyer than Jeff G in pinstripe Lees pumped
full o' helium/
regarding me, obviously, not even a nervous systemless kid could scream
"i ain't feelin 'em"/
built to come iller than any competitor, even if these wack bastards
attached my rectum and they retina/
cats couldn't see my shit, breathin spits treatin kids like elf cadets
at lunch, messin 'em up/
inventin tight stuff, beyond Doc J slamming a medicine ball through a
fruit loop/
when asked if i'm the nicest, cats start offering opinions on No Limit
imitators, saying: "Too Tru..."...
Fox One
Emerald Rain
Fox One the first to flip his shit and turn it back to food...
My cocky attitude compliments my mental magnitude, IQ so off the meter
that it lacks a latitude...
Forceful impact, black and blue, hemmoraging energy that fails to
measure on all scales...
I report in short, aborting paths that pleasure from tall tales...
Lyrics so absurd they always get the south upset, resurrecting minds
without ebonic alphabets...
My entire style is counterfeit, worth limitless amounts of funds...
Ever met a street pharoah?, Well i'm self-pronouncing one...
I SHADOW box so swift that my combos pound the SUN...
Grabbing daps with action raps that need Van Damme to play the role...
If punchlines are really dimes then Goddamn I'm paid in full...
Dropping so much shit that I've been named the greatest BULL...
Rappin' for the Matador and aiming for his eyes...
I rip emcees with ease but my head is aching with their cries...
I've created MY demise, with lyrical overkill...
The brain capacity surrounding me is outta reach within my grasp...
Outlawed to strike a match cuz the raps I spit are gas...
My dirty flows are soils filled with oil spills so call me emcee
Exxon...
But I'm warning you right now, don't step with nothin less than a vest
that's coated teflon...
The smoothest illness poetic medic so my motions still get slept on...
Q the HSO...
Emerald Rain
im the CIA, ya mind is the ghetto-
im floodin it with crack everytime my rhyme settles-
bringin crooked shit? ya lines'll level in the hospital-
im off middle, drop the civil attitude im a leftist-
methodist professin shit you wouldnt know about if you stepped in it-
i write novels in my rapbooks just to practice penmanship-
relentless wit this testament of evidence in messages-
you aint testin this, wit fake alter egos-
all types of people, cure ya illness wit placebos-
latinos and chicos, white boys to negros-
ya skin wont matter when im under it wit these flows-
and please know, ya worlds about as real as that mtv show-
wit ya techno-freeflow, well we know, im a primitive rapper here-
cloud the atmosphere wit facts and fear killin cats wit spears-
concepts be wrappin ears, hearin massive cheers-
underground classic for years, seein mcs so coldly im extractin tears-
burnin matches that dont match up-
catch up, youll get smacked up if ya act up ill leave ya rap stuck-
halfway down ya ass cup, shittin is ya last luck-
prayin for relief or some mental pepto bismol-
we aint playin wit ya gismos, i grab the mic and spit flows-
leave it ripped wit holes, punchlines to ya facial droppin drimes to fix
ya nose-
it'll take about a thousand, do ya math and keep that-
negative skills plus negative will equals relapse of weak raps-
solve for x and quit complainin... theres ya negative feedback-
Balthowsai (aKa) PyroTechnicz
IllaMentalz: Fire Element
Sin. Slay. Swift.
When speaking from the wartorn eye of the storm, I leave kids scorned
and forlorn,
while kids' lukewarm I blaze with rage and flame that maims from the day
they were born/
You been warned, I'm the sickest when spitting absurd metaphysics like
verbal ballistics,
egotistic till you were hit with hollow tipped clips with no misses in
my logistic statistics/
I'll get specific and flip insipid scripts to make them prolific with
wit
and verbatim,
already battled this planet's emcees and slayed 'em, made 'em switch
their occupation/
Your relation to music is similar to Satan's situation with the Jews is,
I exceed speeds and spit in Japanese to make kids switch to Buddhist/
Show what a Monsoon is as soon as the IllaMentalz unite with sunlight
like Horus,
Elements cut down sinners and penitent, newbies and veterans like
florists do forests/
Balthowsai switches stances...!!
Eh yo, I'm remorseless when I attack my enemies' scripts with my
forces...
then prove you define the worst kid, showing you're a bitch at the
sources...
Burning like torches of flame, got ya yearning as ya scorched feeling
pain...
before you can react we'll attack with wind and rain to leave all you
bitches slain...
Force the moon to wane from the gravity of our Phatness in action...
make your crew deny knowing you as they split into wacker factions...
I'm afflicted with the sickness of being the illest that ever did
this...
I rattle mics during battle cyphs as I search and destroy ya writtens...
I spit heat-seeking lyrics to destroy all my foes with complete
certainty...
if think ya herbing me I'll strip ya soul for eternity, this is not
hyperbole...
Tha Joker (aKa) Avalanche
IllaMentalz: Earth Element
Impending disaster, start running faster
But you can't escape Tha Joker's laughter;/
No one measures up to me like broken protractors
Or salamanders to velociraptors./
Never been a modest rapper, but then again,
Gentlemen, let's be honest with each other:/
All my rhymes are milk to earn the cream
And my style is just butter./
Most MC's are margarine compared
To this harlequin, the lethal artisan/
With a cocked and locked Bic,/
Droplets of toxic ink sting topics./
Leavin' skulls broke like pockets
Without profits, go ahead and drop rhymes;/
I guarantee like that's an accident
Like intersections with no stop signs./
Suicide hotlines are swamped when I get
On a comp and assault the DOS prompt/
While other MC's 'boot' up their
Hard drives just to get stomped...
Psychlone
Mpire
E.L.I.T.E.
I Aim so High when writin lines that shine appears in the heavens
Then Air out lungs with so much Force you'd find delerium tremens
Clearly evidence of carnage when tarnishin reps
No varmints are left you couldn't climb charts with a harness and vest
Stick to varnishin steps quit treatin rap as a hobby
Ho's tell I've rung so many bells they say I'm trapped in the lobby
You're screamin "Master don't flog me" with that awful cat-o-nine-tails
Sawin holes in bats of pine failed it's time you act to find Grails
For the search to be dope try and prove you scribes have mauled vets
When switchin styles so many times en route your Tribe is called "Quest"
The way you're dogged you'd think I hauled pets I bet you're pretty bitter
In a city slicker I "trash" more "pussies" than kitty litter
Quip emitter, fuck switch hitters with "bi-polar" disorder
When Psych rolls up get slaughtered til the line that shows up gets shorter
~R~ the ~Rho-botic Rho-nin Warrior (aKa) R.O.C.C.
My whole persona will bomb ya calmer then eye's of hurricanez/
My sic preverted brain will make "Rho" the word for Pain/
niggaz ya'll heard of Kane well that's just how my wordage came/
This verbage game workin' till my words disturb ya brain/
My Perfect strain of DNA is just genetically phatter/
So who be lettin' you rappers rhyme pathetically after/
dis nigga Rhoceez must wanna see ya end ya career/
Cuz I'ma scramble ya grey matter when I enter ya ear/
Lend me your ears! Your ending is near, so write your will up/
infectin' ya'll niggaz when i'm slicin' you up wit ill cutz/
I'm still nutz, like scrotums sacks, i'll blow the track/
keep a loaded gatz for niggaz who think "The Rho just raps"/
Hold it Black!, don't end up "blessed" wit a "holy back"/
leave you cold in sacks,in a drawer cuz ya toe been tagged/
HOLY CRAP! whut i'm sayin's, displayin' more then amazin'/
I'm beatin' niggaz who step like Alpha's going through hazin'/
PsychoMantis
The earth is a cess pool my voice steady contributing/
MCs run and scream IT's HIM AGAIN!!
Showing less balls than their mouth is exhibiting/
Call me a synonym...
I'm the reason our elders hate rap/
I beat an old lady head in with a eight track...
While screaming loud BITCH TAKE THAT!!!!
I mistake gats...
For drugs and a way to escape reality/
MCs scared to battle me...
Always wanna ride my dick Next time bring a saddle please/
My Sexuality...
Is transparent my mom wanted a girl/
So she locked me in the room with Lewinski and Bobbit armed with a blunt
and a pearl/
I grunted and twirled...
Woke up next day with half a testicle/
Threw the nurse off the Vest a view...
Being hauled away I screamed MY MOM GAVE BIRTH TO ME HAVE THAT BITCH
ARRESTED TOO/
I'm a special brew...
More black in me than Nicole Simpson/
Except my whole pigment...
Lacks more dark streams than this flow sentence/
Ya'll should take on the troll gimmick...
Then it will be easier to suck dick/
No I'm not saying your gay just saying YOUR WHOLE STYLE SUCKS BITCH!!!
Anyways good luck with...
Cleaning up that shit my vocals left/
You wanna promote death threats...
I'll use your cords as a pipe and smoke yo breath/
Bladerunner
{5}mc{Z}
Unless you're an 'Irish Alyssa Milano', there's no way that you can
'Charm' me/
More 'private' then shy hemaphrodites, who just joined the army/
No one can harm me, or alarm me, bout to blow up like a bee sting/
I'll 'pick' up a sexy 'harp' player, and rip off her 'g-string'/
You'll see things, my rants induce trance, just one glace shows Blade's
the best/
I'll rip the flesh from your chest, till it hangs loosly like a vest/
I'm not impressed, your skills are 'standard', that's the reason that
i'm 'stalling' ya/
Your rhymes are so 'poor', you'd get left off team Somolia/
Out brawling ya, most kids are useless, just say my name an you'll smell
piss/
Bladerunner's so goddamn phat, that Oprah Winfrey's ass got jealous/
Best run fellas, cause when i talk shit, my whole mood gets explicit/
I'll pick up the biggest battle board and bash your teeth in with it/
My skill's gifted, can't compare it, I'll 'doo you in' like a 'hair
net'/
With rhyme styles so 'magnetic', that a 'polar' couldn't 'bear' it/
Me and Shot 'share hits', like friendly addicts, two of the illest so
far/
We'll 'crash' your hard drive so fast, that ur desktop needs a 'roll
bar'/
I'll go far as my co star, getting more cunt then Bill's cigar/
The 'sex freak' who wears a trench coat, and 'flashes 12' like VCR's/
Skeletor
G.H.A.T.S.
Fuck tha torture shit ima just go ahead and kill these lames[
you 'going down' like 'Stewart' and you about to feel tha 'Payne'[
im still tha same, real vein, smack bastards stigmatic trackmaster[
punch mc's in they chest and leave bones in they back fractured[
tha evalaster, swingin sickles at tha back of ya neck[
get laughed at when ya hunch over and ya foreheads tappin ya chest[
ravegous vet, i wreck hoes, quickly alerted, sick basterdly mastery[
reject foes, me bein murdered, has to be falacies[
its sad to see, drastikly mc's thrown in tha trenches[
savagely, snatchin out his mandible tha moment he flinches[
Trojan Hentchmen, grab ya FLOWtation device cause ya drownin[
you think you can win without ya 'vocal cords'? how you 'soundin'[
volume surroundin, my mic soundwaves make a cloud, upon it i hover[
punch a hole thru ya head so everything goes in one ear and out tha
other[
my whole styles intangible, impossible to get a hold of[
i ripped ya 'heart' out ya chest and you wunder why theres 'no love'[
ya get disposed of comin at me spittin those trash raps[
leave 'trackin devices' hangin out ya butt, cause you got ya 'ass
tapped'[
Sephiroth
Seph's tha gothic ghost in darkness, footsteps causin loud thumps/
so sick I sucked ya chick's tits & tha next day she found lumps/
emcees get buried, despite leavin kids hung like juries/
despite bein so ill AIDS won't kill me, it'll cure me/
kidz is still sayin "I've heard you spit betta"/
true, but you ain't eva spit equal to my worst shit, neva/
makes me feelin like throwin on a hockey mask/
and slaughterin copycats/ chopped up so bad they're usin ziplock
bodybags/
only Seph could bring such supernatural unholy wrath through/
cut off my own head, set it aflame and throw it at you/
explosive mental will cause detonation on impact/
covering a 30 mile radius leaving no body parts intact/
I attack wack rap acts and rip biters/
blow up like trip wires, tha Vamp- gets burned at tha -pyre/
Karnage or Vlad, no matta my name all who battle me/
find victory a virtual impossibility, just ask Technicality/
vote for yourself thrice and only win by one weak vote/
my style's so blazin I could give a solar flare a heat stroke/
there's not even vague hope of survivin my unique quotes/
come so deep I impregnate chicks from bustin when they deep throat/
behold tha GLOW/ tha 'Roth says know ya role/
I chop more heads den lumberjacks locked in a room of totem poles/
I wrote the scrolls on emceein, tha demon supahuman/
I'm tha illest nigga alive, and I believe it's been proven...
Versatiile
DYNaSTY
Emergence
V's farther apart from wackness than Anna Nicole's nips post left breast
mastectomy/
expressin death to these text MC's, movin through 'em absolutely
effortlessly/
essentially, MJ's grade three teacher gradin one o' his papers couldn't
mic-check with me/
expressin elite darts so hard, leaving biters' gums scarred with
incredibly dented teeth/
cause they head to be bent back more so an alcoholic paraplegic sippin
stout through the spine/
spittin nouns well designed to the point that if it's the joint,
s'either my rhymes or a cat mimicing mine/
kickin infinite divine lines, dope concepts past the whole contents of
the Most High's coke supply/
potent refined, successful suicidals knew how this guy do, all V's
former opponents were hopin to die/
total quotable quotient of rhymes, got crews of mute monks 'n mimes
mumbling my shit/
stunning with spits, gotta come down to y'all when i run sound, as if my
nuts were above my dick/
funneling in tons of scripts flyer than Jeff G in pinstripe Lees pumped
full o' helium/
regarding me, obviously, not even a nervous systemless kid could scream
"i ain't feelin 'em"/
built to come iller than any competitor, even if these wack bastards
attached my rectum and they retina/
cats couldn't see my shit, breathin spits treatin kids like elf cadets
at lunch, messin 'em up/
inventin tight stuff, beyond Doc J slamming a medicine ball through a
fruit loop/
when asked if i'm the nicest, cats start offering opinions on No Limit
imitators, saying: "Too Tru..."...
Fox One
Emerald Rain
Fox One the first to flip his shit and turn it back to food...
My cocky attitude compliments my mental magnitude, IQ so off the meter
that it lacks a latitude...
Forceful impact, black and blue, hemmoraging energy that fails to
measure on all scales...
I report in short, aborting paths that pleasure from tall tales...
Lyrics so absurd they always get the south upset, resurrecting minds
without ebonic alphabets...
My entire style is counterfeit, worth limitless amounts of funds...
Ever met a street pharoah?, Well i'm self-pronouncing one...
I SHADOW box so swift that my combos pound the SUN...
Grabbing daps with action raps that need Van Damme to play the role...
If punchlines are really dimes then Goddamn I'm paid in full...
Dropping so much shit that I've been named the greatest BULL...
Rappin' for the Matador and aiming for his eyes...
I rip emcees with ease but my head is aching with their cries...
I've created MY demise, with lyrical overkill...
The brain capacity surrounding me is outta reach within my grasp...
Outlawed to strike a match cuz the raps I spit are gas...
My dirty flows are soils filled with oil spills so call me emcee
Exxon...
But I'm warning you right now, don't step with nothin less than a vest
that's coated teflon...
The smoothest illness poetic medic so my motions still get slept on...
Q the HSO...
Emerald Rain
im the CIA, ya mind is the ghetto-
im floodin it with crack everytime my rhyme settles-
bringin crooked shit? ya lines'll level in the hospital-
im off middle, drop the civil attitude im a leftist-
methodist professin shit you wouldnt know about if you stepped in it-
i write novels in my rapbooks just to practice penmanship-
relentless wit this testament of evidence in messages-
you aint testin this, wit fake alter egos-
all types of people, cure ya illness wit placebos-
latinos and chicos, white boys to negros-
ya skin wont matter when im under it wit these flows-
and please know, ya worlds about as real as that mtv show-
wit ya techno-freeflow, well we know, im a primitive rapper here-
cloud the atmosphere wit facts and fear killin cats wit spears-
concepts be wrappin ears, hearin massive cheers-
underground classic for years, seein mcs so coldly im extractin tears-
burnin matches that dont match up-
catch up, youll get smacked up if ya act up ill leave ya rap stuck-
halfway down ya ass cup, shittin is ya last luck-
prayin for relief or some mental pepto bismol-
we aint playin wit ya gismos, i grab the mic and spit flows-
leave it ripped wit holes, punchlines to ya facial droppin drimes to fix
ya nose-
it'll take about a thousand, do ya math and keep that-
negative skills plus negative will equals relapse of weak raps-
solve for x and quit complainin... theres ya negative feedback-
Balthowsai (aKa) PyroTechnicz
IllaMentalz: Fire Element
Sin. Slay. Swift.
When speaking from the wartorn eye of the storm, I leave kids scorned
and forlorn,
while kids' lukewarm I blaze with rage and flame that maims from the day
they were born/
You been warned, I'm the sickest when spitting absurd metaphysics like
verbal ballistics,
egotistic till you were hit with hollow tipped clips with no misses in
my logistic statistics/
I'll get specific and flip insipid scripts to make them prolific with
wit
and verbatim,
already battled this planet's emcees and slayed 'em, made 'em switch
their occupation/
Your relation to music is similar to Satan's situation with the Jews is,
I exceed speeds and spit in Japanese to make kids switch to Buddhist/
Show what a Monsoon is as soon as the IllaMentalz unite with sunlight
like Horus,
Elements cut down sinners and penitent, newbies and veterans like
florists do forests/
Balthowsai switches stances...!!
Eh yo, I'm remorseless when I attack my enemies' scripts with my
forces...
then prove you define the worst kid, showing you're a bitch at the
sources...
Burning like torches of flame, got ya yearning as ya scorched feeling
pain...
before you can react we'll attack with wind and rain to leave all you
bitches slain...
Force the moon to wane from the gravity of our Phatness in action...
make your crew deny knowing you as they split into wacker factions...
I'm afflicted with the sickness of being the illest that ever did
this...
I rattle mics during battle cyphs as I search and destroy ya writtens...
I spit heat-seeking lyrics to destroy all my foes with complete
certainty...
if think ya herbing me I'll strip ya soul for eternity, this is not
hyperbole...
Tha Joker (aKa) Avalanche
IllaMentalz: Earth Element
Impending disaster, start running faster
But you can't escape Tha Joker's laughter;/
No one measures up to me like broken protractors
Or salamanders to velociraptors./
Never been a modest rapper, but then again,
Gentlemen, let's be honest with each other:/
All my rhymes are milk to earn the cream
And my style is just butter./
Most MC's are margarine compared
To this harlequin, the lethal artisan/
With a cocked and locked Bic,/
Droplets of toxic ink sting topics./
Leavin' skulls broke like pockets
Without profits, go ahead and drop rhymes;/
I guarantee like that's an accident
Like intersections with no stop signs./
Suicide hotlines are swamped when I get
On a comp and assault the DOS prompt/
While other MC's 'boot' up their
Hard drives just to get stomped...