God Of War
01-28-2013, 07:35 PM
posted on 8/25/00
Blas
here i go to write rhymes/ comet bad crimes enter your mind and all at the same time
poke your eyes out until ya go blind
its not a matter of question who can come up with the best line 4,6,7,8 now
im popen you with a nine
sippin on your blood like the purest wine
the color of red the motal sign of dead a bullet in your head (hold up enough said...point is)
when it comes to this
you try to fight me ya get a swing and a miss
all its gonna get you is another "dreadful diss
straight to ya face what now fellin like a discrase
americas waist not good enough to be called The Human Race
or you think you can hti me with yer new base
eirt no i'll come back and hit ya like a courtcase given you just a taist of what your about to face
now knockin you down into 5th place
whats it fell like fallen down the stairs geten put into a body brace
listen i got alot of rhymes i could spit a you
some about my krew
others 'bout breakin down gods veiw
or just some that talk shit about you
yes yes i might be new
but ive been drinken brews and pullen triggas sence the fucken day i was two
it doesn't matter if you like me
'cause that image of fatality that you said drew
well since i have a diobolical mentality i now know that wasn't reality
but seince you don't know what reality is
just wait 'till the end of this
and then it hits you...well thats what reality is
peace
Blas
vs
DJ Judge Dread
I pull out a pen and paper, making this more then a confrontation//
As I start writing you know we gotta serious situation//
And I am personally placin'//
Your rap under "Emergency Operation"//
I've ate away, at every syllible spoken//
Every verb has been broken//
And even the spaces are chokin'//
Give some life support, to this ten year old writing exercise//
Hell, even the spell check you have yet to utillize//
Communication skills? - You need to reboot your whole system//
Maybe you need a bigger imput device, so it will be easier to listen//
100,000 Zip's, couldn't store this information//
While your's can fit on a Floppy, maybe you should rewind back a generation//
You still got room to spare? - Has the huffing caused that much damage?//
Or does it run in the family, an entire dynasty of "scramblage"//
Well not for long, I'm about to pull the plug//
This is reality, not some Y2K bug//
I shrug, yours shouldn't even have lasted through the first century//
Your data is frozen, and you don't even know the elementary//
"Fundementality," to even respond with something comprehendable//
Archaic mind with a young programer, your system, "endable..."
Blas
here i go to write rhymes/ comet bad crimes enter your mind and all at the same time
poke your eyes out until ya go blind
its not a matter of question who can come up with the best line 4,6,7,8 now
im popen you with a nine
sippin on your blood like the purest wine
the color of red the motal sign of dead a bullet in your head (hold up enough said...point is)
when it comes to this
you try to fight me ya get a swing and a miss
all its gonna get you is another "dreadful diss
straight to ya face what now fellin like a discrase
americas waist not good enough to be called The Human Race
or you think you can hti me with yer new base
eirt no i'll come back and hit ya like a courtcase given you just a taist of what your about to face
now knockin you down into 5th place
whats it fell like fallen down the stairs geten put into a body brace
listen i got alot of rhymes i could spit a you
some about my krew
others 'bout breakin down gods veiw
or just some that talk shit about you
yes yes i might be new
but ive been drinken brews and pullen triggas sence the fucken day i was two
it doesn't matter if you like me
'cause that image of fatality that you said drew
well since i have a diobolical mentality i now know that wasn't reality
but seince you don't know what reality is
just wait 'till the end of this
and then it hits you...well thats what reality is
peace
Blas
vs
DJ Judge Dread
I pull out a pen and paper, making this more then a confrontation//
As I start writing you know we gotta serious situation//
And I am personally placin'//
Your rap under "Emergency Operation"//
I've ate away, at every syllible spoken//
Every verb has been broken//
And even the spaces are chokin'//
Give some life support, to this ten year old writing exercise//
Hell, even the spell check you have yet to utillize//
Communication skills? - You need to reboot your whole system//
Maybe you need a bigger imput device, so it will be easier to listen//
100,000 Zip's, couldn't store this information//
While your's can fit on a Floppy, maybe you should rewind back a generation//
You still got room to spare? - Has the huffing caused that much damage?//
Or does it run in the family, an entire dynasty of "scramblage"//
Well not for long, I'm about to pull the plug//
This is reality, not some Y2K bug//
I shrug, yours shouldn't even have lasted through the first century//
Your data is frozen, and you don't even know the elementary//
"Fundementality," to even respond with something comprehendable//
Archaic mind with a young programer, your system, "endable..."