trap.
02-03-2013, 03:47 PM
Rudge1
I can't stop the who?? Fuck Jeru.
Listen here.
For a Prophet NOT to know he'd lose is just farcical.
You chose the right name; your prophetic skills are marginal.
Dollar store sages it's a must-to-wreck-'em..
You been 'misconceiving shit' ever since ya mom took you up-the-rectum..
Plus she's illiterate, you never noticed-it?..
Man I told her to 'fellate' me; Bitch brang me a bonless-fish.
I got pics of me fuckin' her too, In J-pegs..
We did a sixty one.. That's a 69, but I '8'-less.
Fuck lips you get a fat-face in this verbal rat-race.
Cats treat your verse like low blows ; no votes under THAT-'waste.'
You wrote that frail-garbage with stale-markers..
And got less 'prose' but more 'cons'; Like a jail full of failed-authors..
You can't put up a fight as much as you like-to..
I'm like Marion Jones in a swamp, runnin' right 'bayou'.
Oh I can't fade YOU? From the Landz gay crew??
Yeah I used to read your posts…about halfway through.
Its about time you got your whole shit-dissolved..
Donate ya rhymes to earthquake funds; they still couldn't fix-the-'faults.'
Skills so dead you can't revive-a-quote..
Since he can't hold a 'Candle' to me, he rhymes on a 'Lighter'-note.
Rudge runs-it-here, you can't do shit but succumb-to-fear.
Fuckin'-queer, I 'been savage' since you was watchin' Wonder-Years.
And when I show this fag what I'm notable-for..
He's like a locksmith the way he' makes a bolt-for-the-door.'
Notions of a rematch?..Yo that propositions sad-to-think.
This competition ain't 'stiff', you need pens with Viagra-ink..
I beat you so fast I couldn't register how wack-you-was.
You went 'down for the count' like you just gave head to Dracula.
Trying-me you get sent to the E.R with lightning-speed,
Then schooled at the hospital so you can join the 'I.V.'-League.
I can make your wackness dawn on you like the sun setted.
My lines are Premium, while your pencil should be 'unleaded'.
I'm so fly, I had to speak to you in 'plane' English.
After this, you can't stay on my dick your dame needs-it.
If you ain't met defeat, here's directions how to find-it.
Just come to Chi and take that first right; to remain silent..
Now click your heels and return to retirement please.
If I only used one letter I'd still beat that ass with 'E's'
Mutha fffffff
prophet margin
its on right, so change ya font, cuz ya shits the wrong type
you know you bout to get fucked, like it was ya prom night
not gonna be a long fight, so might as well shut ya ho mouth
cuz this gon' be a bigger upset than when sethros closed down
its so foul, i'm disgracin you, no, dont say hatin' you
cuz you know ya shit wouldnt sell if it came with play station 2
and when ya gone, its like the sun died out, there wont be no mourning
wont be no warnin', after this, ya gonna wish that you was aborted
ya girl must keep you on a tight leash, cuz ya never off the chain
ya rhymes all the same, ya softened game'll get caught in flames
you claim chicago? maybe in the 'burbs, cuz i cant see you residin' there
i bet the only projects you ever seen was at a science fair
plus you wouldnt be gettin deep even if you was a drown philosopher
soon you'll be talkin about prophet to ya friends like a fuckin' gossiper
you stay popular, ill stay strapped with skills, so retreat fast,
if we have to meet paths, you'll catch more shots than a speed bag,
best believe that, you the only backpacker sportin' a hip pouch
you bound to fall over like the end of autumn when i spit rounds
get kicked out the rap game, you know you in trouble rudge
if you was bootleggin' the new wutang, you couldnt get "the W"
plead the fifth and stay silent, ya rhymes aint half what mine is
cuz ya whole styles fukt up, like movin' shit around on blind kids
i was gonna give you a pound, but you couldnt handle the weight,
shouldnt stand to the plate, if ya bitch ass cant handle what it takes,
you can ramble and fake, but ya canvas cant handle brushin' with me
and ya cyber sex styles, they ain't really fuckin' with me
cuz i'll knock you out the box like homeless people on trash days
no concern, after this ho gets burned snuff him in the ash tray
so you can sashay, act gay online so ya ass gets jocked
but offline you like shares of comedy central...fuckin' laughin' stock...
peace,
prophet margin
I can't stop the who?? Fuck Jeru.
Listen here.
For a Prophet NOT to know he'd lose is just farcical.
You chose the right name; your prophetic skills are marginal.
Dollar store sages it's a must-to-wreck-'em..
You been 'misconceiving shit' ever since ya mom took you up-the-rectum..
Plus she's illiterate, you never noticed-it?..
Man I told her to 'fellate' me; Bitch brang me a bonless-fish.
I got pics of me fuckin' her too, In J-pegs..
We did a sixty one.. That's a 69, but I '8'-less.
Fuck lips you get a fat-face in this verbal rat-race.
Cats treat your verse like low blows ; no votes under THAT-'waste.'
You wrote that frail-garbage with stale-markers..
And got less 'prose' but more 'cons'; Like a jail full of failed-authors..
You can't put up a fight as much as you like-to..
I'm like Marion Jones in a swamp, runnin' right 'bayou'.
Oh I can't fade YOU? From the Landz gay crew??
Yeah I used to read your posts…about halfway through.
Its about time you got your whole shit-dissolved..
Donate ya rhymes to earthquake funds; they still couldn't fix-the-'faults.'
Skills so dead you can't revive-a-quote..
Since he can't hold a 'Candle' to me, he rhymes on a 'Lighter'-note.
Rudge runs-it-here, you can't do shit but succumb-to-fear.
Fuckin'-queer, I 'been savage' since you was watchin' Wonder-Years.
And when I show this fag what I'm notable-for..
He's like a locksmith the way he' makes a bolt-for-the-door.'
Notions of a rematch?..Yo that propositions sad-to-think.
This competition ain't 'stiff', you need pens with Viagra-ink..
I beat you so fast I couldn't register how wack-you-was.
You went 'down for the count' like you just gave head to Dracula.
Trying-me you get sent to the E.R with lightning-speed,
Then schooled at the hospital so you can join the 'I.V.'-League.
I can make your wackness dawn on you like the sun setted.
My lines are Premium, while your pencil should be 'unleaded'.
I'm so fly, I had to speak to you in 'plane' English.
After this, you can't stay on my dick your dame needs-it.
If you ain't met defeat, here's directions how to find-it.
Just come to Chi and take that first right; to remain silent..
Now click your heels and return to retirement please.
If I only used one letter I'd still beat that ass with 'E's'
Mutha fffffff
prophet margin
its on right, so change ya font, cuz ya shits the wrong type
you know you bout to get fucked, like it was ya prom night
not gonna be a long fight, so might as well shut ya ho mouth
cuz this gon' be a bigger upset than when sethros closed down
its so foul, i'm disgracin you, no, dont say hatin' you
cuz you know ya shit wouldnt sell if it came with play station 2
and when ya gone, its like the sun died out, there wont be no mourning
wont be no warnin', after this, ya gonna wish that you was aborted
ya girl must keep you on a tight leash, cuz ya never off the chain
ya rhymes all the same, ya softened game'll get caught in flames
you claim chicago? maybe in the 'burbs, cuz i cant see you residin' there
i bet the only projects you ever seen was at a science fair
plus you wouldnt be gettin deep even if you was a drown philosopher
soon you'll be talkin about prophet to ya friends like a fuckin' gossiper
you stay popular, ill stay strapped with skills, so retreat fast,
if we have to meet paths, you'll catch more shots than a speed bag,
best believe that, you the only backpacker sportin' a hip pouch
you bound to fall over like the end of autumn when i spit rounds
get kicked out the rap game, you know you in trouble rudge
if you was bootleggin' the new wutang, you couldnt get "the W"
plead the fifth and stay silent, ya rhymes aint half what mine is
cuz ya whole styles fukt up, like movin' shit around on blind kids
i was gonna give you a pound, but you couldnt handle the weight,
shouldnt stand to the plate, if ya bitch ass cant handle what it takes,
you can ramble and fake, but ya canvas cant handle brushin' with me
and ya cyber sex styles, they ain't really fuckin' with me
cuz i'll knock you out the box like homeless people on trash days
no concern, after this ho gets burned snuff him in the ash tray
so you can sashay, act gay online so ya ass gets jocked
but offline you like shares of comedy central...fuckin' laughin' stock...
peace,
prophet margin