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View Full Version : 1. Ideal 17-3 v. 2. Richard Corey 13-2


trap.
02-18-2013, 06:07 PM
Richard Corey:
All my scrawled, dissolvin rhymes evolve to bombs and mines
Detonate, but it’s safe to say I.Deals with faggots all the time
He thinks his title match was pay-perview, looked up that night
But it wasn’t, I’m sorry…the empty box didn’t ‘put up a fight’
Thank God for PBA, the real reason why lil’ guy copped a win
But your not ill, wee-man!…You’re just the bitch that lost to him
Accost this kid! I ain’t gay…robbin’ their titles ain’t incriminatin
So I guess, ‘stickin’ it to faggots’…is still an I.Deal situation
The shit you facin’? My phrases compiled, I got my style honed
One shot … I’ll turn this faggots nose ring into a dial tone!
Y’see, I’m an writer! Verbal technician, rhymings the easiest
He's a faceless follower in a trend of pun-firing aspiring comediens!
I’ll slice ya tendons, with lettered tools and a metal-fused appliance
So if he do ‘stand up’ again… it’s a tribute to medical science
Bitch, you’ll get maimed and chilled on ice! Prick, I aim to kill
You can’t break the skin with that dull shit! I’m stainless, still!
I’ll knock this kid unconcious, honest! Get at me some more!
Next week, Sequel will have to remind you why you’re 17-4!
bullets richo-then-shay like stadium, aim for his oscillating mouth
Ya head’ll duck’n fly back like it was migrating south!
You never earned the belt! Be real, bitch still battling delusion
Trust me y’all, I’m body’n Blood like Catholic communions!
My style is un-Orthodox…broke-ass can’t afford to get Rich
I’d go thru his pockets this month and look forward to Lent!
I spit huge slugs, kid! Trust you ain’t prepared for the scare tactics
They’ll turn your most important assorted organs into air traffic!
In the same vain, I’m drainin’ his blood, I’ll hollow this geek, ya…
wanna catch it? I’ll slit ya throat and make ya play follow the liter!
If I say I’m the best, well then grin…shut up and be real with it
Don’t complain! Everyone knows your a moron… ‘Deal witted’


I.Deal:
yo dont be throwin rocks, son. if you ask around, its true
those bus stops you sleep in? theyre considered glass houses too
ill smack out this dude. how am i not gon stop him from cakin?
when im the real thing... and RC just a knock-off pop imitation
take shots at ya station. in oral engagements? i leave bruthas wet
have all the coroners pacin, wit floral arrangements on ya mothas steps
fuck you expect? cuz with all them big words, and logical routes
u must be part of the 5%.... who dont know what they talkin about
i mean, look at this filthy bum.. all he got left is his dog & a tent
seriously, even his get up and go.... just got up and went
& that dont suprise me. lil negro, im everything ya rap isnt
fuck around, i'll wet ya face and head up quicker then a baptism
you lack wisdom. say you stuntin? thats lame type frontin, huh
"Aint Too Many Iller" then Richard Corey... its a shame im one of em
dawg, ill throw a quick haymaker and ya ass'll be long gone
ill leave ya eyes puffy enough to model glasses for sean john
ya thirty bars is all the same length... cocksucka you not gutta
i kick terrorist verses. when it comes to you, call me a boxcutter
howd this retard get placed here? hahaha. you owe it to who?
you owe it to me. you was gettin KO'd badly before i voted for you
& you know that shits true. this the RBL, you cant rap here
want a championship? you from the RSTL..... go back there.
with that wording? i dunno why you gassed, i mean ya horrible
so fuckin big headed, i could drive a tractor between ya cornrows
now come on dicky. lets give up the charade, you wack as could be
no matter what way you fuckin slice. you only a fraction of me
plus you rap like a geek. ill show you how to win this absurb game
you do it with punches and personals. not useless text wordplay
muhfucka. wit ya frail ass, you needa retreat 'n get sleep
& hope the number 7 aint lucky.. cuz thats who you facin next week