trap.
02-02-2013, 06:11 PM
Rygar:
My pimp? You must operate from a retirement home you geriatric fuck.
Clean your mess up Galv…
Until you sanitize your sloppiness you wont galvanize the audience
At age 70 you’ve lost all competitiveness, your fast demise was obvious
How asinine your comment is…about winning, cuz I bruise competitors
On AIM I told you that you sucked and you tried to shoot the messenger
Wanted no part of me, cuz if victory’s the object then Ry’s a step closer
You bring ‘nothing new to the table’ like a waitress serving leftovers
Remove your stench odor, still suffering from post-dramatic-stress?
In that case, this ultra-magnet-text will make your pulse-abandon-deck
My verse demands respect, and this is not a split contest
You’re the little red riding hood walking through a crip complex
For my next conquest, I’ll shit on you, so don’t attempt to punish me
You sent your verse to Sime then applied for protective custody
His text is dung to me, so I’ll start badgering this clown
Your verse depletes my interest as if I was transferring accounts
Trapped up in your house, I noticed your gay porn screenplays
In battles I’ll leave your god-complex in dire need of an esteem raise
These days you’re wack…wait, you’ve always had a weak style
Such masculine attain that your first three letters read “Gal”
Meanwhile, I’m winning, I’ll strike your chest with a dart
Analogy? Um, Galv is to text…what etch-a-sketch is to art
Influenced by foreign languages, also colloquially themed thoughts
Leave me saying…‘Yo soy dope’…like blunts laced with Chinese sauce
This seems wrong to stab you with a stake-til-your-heart-is-cracked
Level of antiqueness is that of outdated almanacs, or archaic artifacts
Basic novice rap isn’t needed in this level of ascension
Galv’s an Olympian at getting schooled…he meddles in detention
You better seek protection, or try and cop a disguise
When he told me to prepare for the storm, skittles dropped from the skies
He tried to summon the thunder, instead his gayness appeared
Tried to win but fell to the pitt like the Ravens this year
Face it you queer, I destroyed your entire army of herbs
Galv ‘didn’t dew nothing’ like God not wanting to work
Now watch me insert, a cock til’ you can’t-talk
Asked for youthful competition instead I get the text version of Gandalf
I threw you in the ‘pitt of wackness’, it’s all simple
See…I thought that was the category you were supposed to fall into
My bad Galv, but you’re an antique, rest assured there’s no age in hell
Ever since I removed your heart you’ve forgotten to ‘pace yourself’
Crippled fuck, you mentioned winning, wait let me stop and just laugh
Cuz you’re a ventriloquist with a donkey, talking out of your ass
Rii
Rx/IO
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Your Pimp Galv:
Rygar saw his comp was me, & all this week, he lost some sleep
so he distracted himself by downloading new screensavers of Dawson's Creek
I'd be more intimidated if you subbed out & let your momz compete
plus, that'd give the skinny hooker a reason to get off the streets
Rygar's rhymes are awful weak, the flow goes off the beat
who you kiddin? you can't even keep rhythm when ya' toss ya' meat
you see, talk is cheap, and you're easily the most talkative
your best bet is to not drop a skit, that way you can walk & live
cuz if you decide to stay and display some of your lame ol' text
I'm bound to shit on you, like your lover after too much anal sex
you're a "fake-ass" rapper but there's no pretendin here
this kid's career, is like his horny boyfriend, "the end is near"
cuz like a girl's pregnancy scare, "Blood, you're not flowin"
we know your verse ain't phat but why's your cock swollen
you masturbate while composin it so yo can claim you came hard?
man, you must be out of your mind, kinda' like a brain fart
okay Gar, let's think about it, the only way you could win
oh wait... nevermind, there is no way you could win
I saw your post on the discussion board, go get some help
makin' victory predictions, ya' tryin to convince yourself?
that shit wont help, cuz YOU don't get to vote
when people reply to our battle, "YOU wont get a quote!"
Ry your style's so booty the voters just wanna' pinch it
brown-nosers wanna kiss it & faggots wanna stick it
I just wanna kick it, the fuck out this tournament
you heard about my rep & now ya' see how I earned the shit
you ain't ever recorded a song, never had CD's in racks for sale
the only way you'd ever get BOOKED is if they threw ya ass in jail
and like couples on tv shows wonderin if they should stay or part
your friends who promised to vote for you, just had a Change of Heart
I don't need to slay ya' art, your sorry verse here proves the point
you wouldn't have a "fresh delivery" if you shipped fish to sushi joints
I've been doin this for years son, to me, you're just a newbie
I'll eat you up & "shit you out" and you still ain't "passin through me"
go ahead 'n act unruly, but don't trip when they cast the votes
cats just know, you couldn't rise above me with the help of catapults
so pack ya bags & bolt, you know you lost so please just leave
while I go e-mail my picture to Sime cuz I'm in the Sweet Sixteen
BEEEEEEE-OTCH!!!!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Final:
Rygar (14) - Your Pimp Galv (8)
My pimp? You must operate from a retirement home you geriatric fuck.
Clean your mess up Galv…
Until you sanitize your sloppiness you wont galvanize the audience
At age 70 you’ve lost all competitiveness, your fast demise was obvious
How asinine your comment is…about winning, cuz I bruise competitors
On AIM I told you that you sucked and you tried to shoot the messenger
Wanted no part of me, cuz if victory’s the object then Ry’s a step closer
You bring ‘nothing new to the table’ like a waitress serving leftovers
Remove your stench odor, still suffering from post-dramatic-stress?
In that case, this ultra-magnet-text will make your pulse-abandon-deck
My verse demands respect, and this is not a split contest
You’re the little red riding hood walking through a crip complex
For my next conquest, I’ll shit on you, so don’t attempt to punish me
You sent your verse to Sime then applied for protective custody
His text is dung to me, so I’ll start badgering this clown
Your verse depletes my interest as if I was transferring accounts
Trapped up in your house, I noticed your gay porn screenplays
In battles I’ll leave your god-complex in dire need of an esteem raise
These days you’re wack…wait, you’ve always had a weak style
Such masculine attain that your first three letters read “Gal”
Meanwhile, I’m winning, I’ll strike your chest with a dart
Analogy? Um, Galv is to text…what etch-a-sketch is to art
Influenced by foreign languages, also colloquially themed thoughts
Leave me saying…‘Yo soy dope’…like blunts laced with Chinese sauce
This seems wrong to stab you with a stake-til-your-heart-is-cracked
Level of antiqueness is that of outdated almanacs, or archaic artifacts
Basic novice rap isn’t needed in this level of ascension
Galv’s an Olympian at getting schooled…he meddles in detention
You better seek protection, or try and cop a disguise
When he told me to prepare for the storm, skittles dropped from the skies
He tried to summon the thunder, instead his gayness appeared
Tried to win but fell to the pitt like the Ravens this year
Face it you queer, I destroyed your entire army of herbs
Galv ‘didn’t dew nothing’ like God not wanting to work
Now watch me insert, a cock til’ you can’t-talk
Asked for youthful competition instead I get the text version of Gandalf
I threw you in the ‘pitt of wackness’, it’s all simple
See…I thought that was the category you were supposed to fall into
My bad Galv, but you’re an antique, rest assured there’s no age in hell
Ever since I removed your heart you’ve forgotten to ‘pace yourself’
Crippled fuck, you mentioned winning, wait let me stop and just laugh
Cuz you’re a ventriloquist with a donkey, talking out of your ass
Rii
Rx/IO
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Your Pimp Galv:
Rygar saw his comp was me, & all this week, he lost some sleep
so he distracted himself by downloading new screensavers of Dawson's Creek
I'd be more intimidated if you subbed out & let your momz compete
plus, that'd give the skinny hooker a reason to get off the streets
Rygar's rhymes are awful weak, the flow goes off the beat
who you kiddin? you can't even keep rhythm when ya' toss ya' meat
you see, talk is cheap, and you're easily the most talkative
your best bet is to not drop a skit, that way you can walk & live
cuz if you decide to stay and display some of your lame ol' text
I'm bound to shit on you, like your lover after too much anal sex
you're a "fake-ass" rapper but there's no pretendin here
this kid's career, is like his horny boyfriend, "the end is near"
cuz like a girl's pregnancy scare, "Blood, you're not flowin"
we know your verse ain't phat but why's your cock swollen
you masturbate while composin it so yo can claim you came hard?
man, you must be out of your mind, kinda' like a brain fart
okay Gar, let's think about it, the only way you could win
oh wait... nevermind, there is no way you could win
I saw your post on the discussion board, go get some help
makin' victory predictions, ya' tryin to convince yourself?
that shit wont help, cuz YOU don't get to vote
when people reply to our battle, "YOU wont get a quote!"
Ry your style's so booty the voters just wanna' pinch it
brown-nosers wanna kiss it & faggots wanna stick it
I just wanna kick it, the fuck out this tournament
you heard about my rep & now ya' see how I earned the shit
you ain't ever recorded a song, never had CD's in racks for sale
the only way you'd ever get BOOKED is if they threw ya ass in jail
and like couples on tv shows wonderin if they should stay or part
your friends who promised to vote for you, just had a Change of Heart
I don't need to slay ya' art, your sorry verse here proves the point
you wouldn't have a "fresh delivery" if you shipped fish to sushi joints
I've been doin this for years son, to me, you're just a newbie
I'll eat you up & "shit you out" and you still ain't "passin through me"
go ahead 'n act unruly, but don't trip when they cast the votes
cats just know, you couldn't rise above me with the help of catapults
so pack ya bags & bolt, you know you lost so please just leave
while I go e-mail my picture to Sime cuz I'm in the Sweet Sixteen
BEEEEEEE-OTCH!!!!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Final:
Rygar (14) - Your Pimp Galv (8)