trap.
02-03-2013, 02:40 PM
Rymatic
Attackin'<a href="http://www.urbanprowlers.net/tourney/mm2003/phant.jpg" target="_blank" onMouseOver="window.status='Phant'; return true">
</a>Says:
PBA you got slayed, this is no different...
Seems like yesterday I slayed you, consider this day two,
Face burnt the fuck up from all the sonnin I gave you/
Please tell rosy cheeks to only speak when told to,
Go home duke,
Ry shot-callin like the muthafuckin sniper in Phone Booth/
You’re wack hopps. Face too red in that snap shot,
Already the Cinci baseball team offered Phant a job as their mascot/
A verse full of hick disses is what I could be sending Sime,
But who the FUCK writes an entire verse with the same disses every line?/
40 lines dissing apes, 30 against pedophiles. That all you can think to say?
If I was chinese, he’d submit a 50 line epic on why Yao Ming is gay/
Hopefully this verse will make Ceasar Phant disappear,
Tough matchup: my branch of followers vs the olive branch in his ear/
Phant and his boyfriend will be in love til the very end,
And like Phoenix sportswriters, they’re talkin ‘bout Marion/
I’m a fan of boxing, which helps when I’m exposin his text,
Cuz everyone knows Phantom punches aren’t known to connect/
Stick to text, it’s obvious you’re too shook to fight,
Bitch, I battled DK, you only sparred with a lookalike/
You aint even diss MMx. Before your face gets all blushy,
Tell me why your “diss verse” was more like a paper on monkeys/
As the illest you rarely get mentioned,
Don’t even dare me to question why you took that pic during a therapy session/
Looks like you digitally added that weirdo couch,
While actually being on the shitter, trying your best to squeeze one out/
Fuck all that. You look like you’re 31,
P’s such a tool, Black And Decker is sponsoring his tourney run/
I forgot what site we’re on. I doubt I’ll show yo,
How the fuck can I win, his face is the Prowlers logo/
Sime, the prizes are dumb hopps,
If Phant wins, please switch Soul’s CD for a bottle of sun block/
P LOVES freaks. There are shrinks that I suggest that he visit,
One minute he’s got a Muresan avvy, the next he’s posing next to a midget/
Since you stepped up, it’s time I bruise your frame,
Your doom is promised like pre-ordering the computer game/
It's retirement time for Phant.
Rygarism
<HR WIDTH="450" ALIGN="LEFT">
Phant Attackin'<a href="http://www.urbanprowlers.net/tourney/mm2003/rymatic.jpg" target="_blank" onMouseOver="window.status='Rymatic'; return true">
</a>Says:
Hey guys, watch this shit, Im gonna ruin his name meanly/
Show ‘its easy to beat Rygar’ like my text had game genie/
Ya lame, sweetie...Soloe met ya and said ya scared to get high/
Haha! You a ‘nerdy mother-fucker’ like Finch from American Pie/
Soloe sweared on his life, said he asked if ya wanted a bunch-a-hits/
Tried once, but ‘couldn’t handle the pot’ like chefs missin oven mitts/
Dude, youre a fuckin bitch, try to make friends but lack the tactics/
Heard Ry hangs with Himself--but I aint talkin bout the fatass black kid/
You live on the net and ya ugly, a kid as fucked up as you is rare/
While I'm ‘hot with two dimples’ like ya custioned computer chair/
Yo, this dude’s a square, hits me up like “Phant, you my friend.”/
Man, can ya tell me your best friends’ names without loggin onto IM?/
You get dogged by my pen, bet ya social life’s off the hook, elf/
What leaves that room more often; you or that big-ass bookshelf?/
And I wish I could see ya clothes, I bet you got some stankin kicks/
Ry be ‘rockin Vans’ more than Shaggy when he’s bangin chicks/
But YOU be bangin dicks, and that gay ass is dead bananas/
Said Id show ya a blood-bath--looked for naked thugs in red bandanas/
Asked about audios at Mentalz, I remember your response clearly/
“I cant rap too loud yall...cuz my parents might hear me!”/
Had my eyes teary, ya parents own you, no wonder ya never drank/
This muhfucker like 21 and probably still be getting spanked/
And now to ya face, those weird eyes make ya look like a little fool/
Ya ‘pupils are further apart’ than pen-pals from Middle School/
I'll rip this tool, stomp on his grill until it wont heal right/
Lookin like a punchin bag, maybe you DO say ‘nigga’ in real life/
Ya ‘Excellent Adventure’ is over and I don’t know who I dissed worse/
Cuz I pounded Bill the second round and ended Keanu with this verse/
You know you look like Reeves, maybe YOU can be a movie screen buff/
Cuz I KNOW youre a better actor, cuz at Prowlers you really seem tough/
You fuckin cream puff, head long and awkward, skull is a sin/
And nobody’s pullin ya leg, but someone must be pullin ya chin/
My punches ya fear, when I approach you run for the clear/
And ‘run for your dear life’ like Bambi when hunters are near/
Get hundreds of cheers in L.A. cuz ya movies would cause a geek hoard/
As lead role in the nerd blockbuster; ‘Dude, Where’s My Keyboard?”/
So text is fun cuz computers and free time are a potent combination/
Plus ya ‘own enough mouse-pads’ to house New York’s rodent population/
And turn that camera left, they’ll be no fragment of doubt/
When we see Jay-Z tied in ropes with a gag in his mouth/
You're the fag of the house, Punchline King? I'll belittle that/
Cuz it’s a simple fact, your ‘punches are played’ like Little Mac’s/
And to end this rap, I'll prove that gay audio wasn’t false and ya know.../
You call yourself Alfred Dolphin cuz ya always got balls on ya nose...
Attackin'<a href="http://www.urbanprowlers.net/tourney/mm2003/phant.jpg" target="_blank" onMouseOver="window.status='Phant'; return true">
</a>Says:
PBA you got slayed, this is no different...
Seems like yesterday I slayed you, consider this day two,
Face burnt the fuck up from all the sonnin I gave you/
Please tell rosy cheeks to only speak when told to,
Go home duke,
Ry shot-callin like the muthafuckin sniper in Phone Booth/
You’re wack hopps. Face too red in that snap shot,
Already the Cinci baseball team offered Phant a job as their mascot/
A verse full of hick disses is what I could be sending Sime,
But who the FUCK writes an entire verse with the same disses every line?/
40 lines dissing apes, 30 against pedophiles. That all you can think to say?
If I was chinese, he’d submit a 50 line epic on why Yao Ming is gay/
Hopefully this verse will make Ceasar Phant disappear,
Tough matchup: my branch of followers vs the olive branch in his ear/
Phant and his boyfriend will be in love til the very end,
And like Phoenix sportswriters, they’re talkin ‘bout Marion/
I’m a fan of boxing, which helps when I’m exposin his text,
Cuz everyone knows Phantom punches aren’t known to connect/
Stick to text, it’s obvious you’re too shook to fight,
Bitch, I battled DK, you only sparred with a lookalike/
You aint even diss MMx. Before your face gets all blushy,
Tell me why your “diss verse” was more like a paper on monkeys/
As the illest you rarely get mentioned,
Don’t even dare me to question why you took that pic during a therapy session/
Looks like you digitally added that weirdo couch,
While actually being on the shitter, trying your best to squeeze one out/
Fuck all that. You look like you’re 31,
P’s such a tool, Black And Decker is sponsoring his tourney run/
I forgot what site we’re on. I doubt I’ll show yo,
How the fuck can I win, his face is the Prowlers logo/
Sime, the prizes are dumb hopps,
If Phant wins, please switch Soul’s CD for a bottle of sun block/
P LOVES freaks. There are shrinks that I suggest that he visit,
One minute he’s got a Muresan avvy, the next he’s posing next to a midget/
Since you stepped up, it’s time I bruise your frame,
Your doom is promised like pre-ordering the computer game/
It's retirement time for Phant.
Rygarism
<HR WIDTH="450" ALIGN="LEFT">
Phant Attackin'<a href="http://www.urbanprowlers.net/tourney/mm2003/rymatic.jpg" target="_blank" onMouseOver="window.status='Rymatic'; return true">
</a>Says:
Hey guys, watch this shit, Im gonna ruin his name meanly/
Show ‘its easy to beat Rygar’ like my text had game genie/
Ya lame, sweetie...Soloe met ya and said ya scared to get high/
Haha! You a ‘nerdy mother-fucker’ like Finch from American Pie/
Soloe sweared on his life, said he asked if ya wanted a bunch-a-hits/
Tried once, but ‘couldn’t handle the pot’ like chefs missin oven mitts/
Dude, youre a fuckin bitch, try to make friends but lack the tactics/
Heard Ry hangs with Himself--but I aint talkin bout the fatass black kid/
You live on the net and ya ugly, a kid as fucked up as you is rare/
While I'm ‘hot with two dimples’ like ya custioned computer chair/
Yo, this dude’s a square, hits me up like “Phant, you my friend.”/
Man, can ya tell me your best friends’ names without loggin onto IM?/
You get dogged by my pen, bet ya social life’s off the hook, elf/
What leaves that room more often; you or that big-ass bookshelf?/
And I wish I could see ya clothes, I bet you got some stankin kicks/
Ry be ‘rockin Vans’ more than Shaggy when he’s bangin chicks/
But YOU be bangin dicks, and that gay ass is dead bananas/
Said Id show ya a blood-bath--looked for naked thugs in red bandanas/
Asked about audios at Mentalz, I remember your response clearly/
“I cant rap too loud yall...cuz my parents might hear me!”/
Had my eyes teary, ya parents own you, no wonder ya never drank/
This muhfucker like 21 and probably still be getting spanked/
And now to ya face, those weird eyes make ya look like a little fool/
Ya ‘pupils are further apart’ than pen-pals from Middle School/
I'll rip this tool, stomp on his grill until it wont heal right/
Lookin like a punchin bag, maybe you DO say ‘nigga’ in real life/
Ya ‘Excellent Adventure’ is over and I don’t know who I dissed worse/
Cuz I pounded Bill the second round and ended Keanu with this verse/
You know you look like Reeves, maybe YOU can be a movie screen buff/
Cuz I KNOW youre a better actor, cuz at Prowlers you really seem tough/
You fuckin cream puff, head long and awkward, skull is a sin/
And nobody’s pullin ya leg, but someone must be pullin ya chin/
My punches ya fear, when I approach you run for the clear/
And ‘run for your dear life’ like Bambi when hunters are near/
Get hundreds of cheers in L.A. cuz ya movies would cause a geek hoard/
As lead role in the nerd blockbuster; ‘Dude, Where’s My Keyboard?”/
So text is fun cuz computers and free time are a potent combination/
Plus ya ‘own enough mouse-pads’ to house New York’s rodent population/
And turn that camera left, they’ll be no fragment of doubt/
When we see Jay-Z tied in ropes with a gag in his mouth/
You're the fag of the house, Punchline King? I'll belittle that/
Cuz it’s a simple fact, your ‘punches are played’ like Little Mac’s/
And to end this rap, I'll prove that gay audio wasn’t false and ya know.../
You call yourself Alfred Dolphin cuz ya always got balls on ya nose...