trap.
02-02-2013, 05:56 PM
s.o.u.l:
Right now, I bet your biggest fear is losing the prize,
-Man, I'll ruin your life-
Leave you begging your patron saint for the use of your eyes,
-What happened to those-?
I ain't mad at ya prose, average flows, can't you tell I'm laughing at those?
-Fuckin' dunce-
Jabbin' at Pro's a sucker punch, even telegraphing the blows,
Dude is a clown, I give wings to shit that's truly Profound,
-Losing the round-?
You stay spittin' clay pigeons, cool? I'm shootin' em down,
While you're placing your bets, I'm running up, breaking your neck
Without breaking a sweat, face it, you're as fake as it gets,
Look at this barbarian thinking he's Conan,
Fuck around and get that chip on your shoulder reprogrammed,
My style is too subliminal you can't fool the sentinel,
Dude, be sensible...
Our size differential makes me look two-dimensional,
Of course your sensors show no warning of a threat,
You were boring me to death, so I need a pick me up,
Consequently, your girl got titty-fucked with me yellin' "Giddy-up!"
It's shitty luck:
Neither of you knew that you both of you sucked.
No telling where's Pro's found, lounging in gauze,
If we battled on stage, the crowd would know I'm down for the cause,
When the sound of your bones breaking is lounder than the round of applause,
I'm sick of these hooligans -moved by whims- adopting the pseudonyms,
So I dropped what I knew would win,
And embrass you 'till that's something you're not gonna do again,
(are you?)
While I craft this verse,
Even the catholic church knows I got a job to do,
So expect an "Our Father" or two not to be responded to,
Bloody Sunday you'll be forced to show some love,
When Red Cross gets some organs that you used to be the owner of.
come with it.
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Profound:
Default
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Final:
s.o.u.l. (+) - Profound (x)
Right now, I bet your biggest fear is losing the prize,
-Man, I'll ruin your life-
Leave you begging your patron saint for the use of your eyes,
-What happened to those-?
I ain't mad at ya prose, average flows, can't you tell I'm laughing at those?
-Fuckin' dunce-
Jabbin' at Pro's a sucker punch, even telegraphing the blows,
Dude is a clown, I give wings to shit that's truly Profound,
-Losing the round-?
You stay spittin' clay pigeons, cool? I'm shootin' em down,
While you're placing your bets, I'm running up, breaking your neck
Without breaking a sweat, face it, you're as fake as it gets,
Look at this barbarian thinking he's Conan,
Fuck around and get that chip on your shoulder reprogrammed,
My style is too subliminal you can't fool the sentinel,
Dude, be sensible...
Our size differential makes me look two-dimensional,
Of course your sensors show no warning of a threat,
You were boring me to death, so I need a pick me up,
Consequently, your girl got titty-fucked with me yellin' "Giddy-up!"
It's shitty luck:
Neither of you knew that you both of you sucked.
No telling where's Pro's found, lounging in gauze,
If we battled on stage, the crowd would know I'm down for the cause,
When the sound of your bones breaking is lounder than the round of applause,
I'm sick of these hooligans -moved by whims- adopting the pseudonyms,
So I dropped what I knew would win,
And embrass you 'till that's something you're not gonna do again,
(are you?)
While I craft this verse,
Even the catholic church knows I got a job to do,
So expect an "Our Father" or two not to be responded to,
Bloody Sunday you'll be forced to show some love,
When Red Cross gets some organs that you used to be the owner of.
come with it.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Profound:
Default
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Final:
s.o.u.l. (+) - Profound (x)