01-16-2018, 11:13 PM | #1 |
Scream
Join Date: Jun 2015
Posts: 3,227
Battle Record: 63-35
Accomplishments - 50 Wins
Champed - BA Picture Roast
- Battle Royale Tournament
- NBL Pic Roast
- Netcees Battle League
- NBL Season 11
- HoT Roast
- BAL Roast
- Tag Team Tourney
- NBL Barcotic Cypher
- SOL Pic Roast
- BA Tag
- XXXtentacion Roast
- 1-2 LR Champ
Rep Power: 22535865 |
Tax
Tax:
Tax: Attributes intrinsically instilled in me,contributes to awe inspiring capabilities but my stubbornness is innate as inmates tenaciously maintaining innocent pleas, reluctantly adapting to damaging surroundings like water to a drowning, man that ranges from mortally plaguing to minorly irritating like desert nomads enduring shifting sands, I thirst, and hold pads, pens, and mics too tight so I might relate wisdom, despite inevitable arthritis and carpal tunnel syndrome, expose these naked mole rats inflicted with tunnel vision my eye lazers scan with four dimensions of peripherals, while some exude ignorance like Bush's pronunciation of subliminal, my motto follows contra to criminal but similar to how Sinatra would philosophize, I'll continue to do things my way, but without all the mob ties, you'd be wise to sign up for my night course to tap into a natural resource of a creative force that prefers to deter from sippin on syrup or fastening the stirrups to ride the white horse or take a drag of shwag out of little bags, or gag on fungal caps, or place stamps on your palette to help amp your raps, those don't lead to utopia, it leads to myopia and Ethiopia-like famine, so treat every post I drop like a 'care' package, fortified with pro'visions'for those so malnourished you can see their rib indentions, my inventions hold nutritious calories that also help with cavity prevention I got 'fillers' I just choose to avoid them like the British do dentists, my mission is to bravely run life's gauntlet avoiding injury, my neurons spark then exhibit quantum energy insistent for brainstorming, you'll posthumously remember me as my existence contributed to Global warming. joc: assuming our notable forms we/ get vocally foreign to normalcy/ and provoke post envy in hordes of "wish-we-were-them-emcees"/ torridly performin/ spit in torrents/ tumultuous outpourings of phlegm/ leavin your men drenched in speech/ let off steam and vent over beats/ tempt these tempests to attempt tip toe'in/ man, you'll get blown head over seat/ can't step quiet, never follow, we got 'lead' in our feet/ bloc-heads consistently assemblin an elegant piece/ tendencies to turn terrorist usin thermobarics/ pressure and heat/ yall word weapons resemble pebbles and peas/ so get on yer knees/ pray for god's greatest to grant grace and his patience/ cuz evidently these 7 emcees got polished writs/ so while yall "cats-are-actin", we're takin ya out ophthalmologists/ Myriadist: We wield diatonic fifths like fists for un-consciousness./ Crescendo kendo kicks wreck like "missed steps" in ocatave splits,/ resulting in carotids ripped/ like bras from tits with a bondage whip./ Red metronome drip gives heart to the rawest mix./ We "beat machines" like Akai when competing with AI./ Escape "snares" with "unquantitized" 'taps' 'on the fly'./ DJ Kali on the cut. Unlimited lacerations./ You counteracting the scratch of the asp with venom evaporation?/ (keep waitin') Snakes and monitors. Stages are reptilian habitats./ When the mic's on, my cord's a python constricting battlecats./ Imagine that/ like Lennon and all the people./ You're crawlin Beatles. We the baldest eagles./ Takes gall to call us equals./ My sonnet's fecal./ I drop shit on sonic easels./ needles to turn the tables for good and demolish evil./ We bust mollusks at crabs and 'see food' when the door gets come through./ I said it before: 'checks' magnetize mic frauds more than 'one-twos'./ We "harmin-eyes" like J5 in a mace fight./ More higher thought through cybertalk from WRyTERS BLOC, so dope this should be a pay site./ Grizzly Magerk: so inhale and take flight/ this post the cock pit, imagine rapmusic being shut down for distribution of narcotics/ 24/ 7 round the clock you clock'n WRyTERS BLOC stock so stop it/ spittin with more vise than Tubbs and Crocket with a wood shop kit/ phat flow out of site like Pam And's knockers, fitted for Tran-Zord Z booster rockets/ wet emcee's respect is like full pockets, watch me boost ya wallets/ if this flow was ethanol yall all would be dead alcoholics/ as i freak techniques my mind frolics in phonics/ spittin serious ebonics while you cads try to sham god for knowledge/ pay homage as we bypass your wryters blocage/ i drop shit at the speed of a hair triggered jock itch/ on target like Davy Crocket out to Poc-a-hot-bitch/ I figure, Why jag off on a track when your girl could slap box with my sausage?/ A nika? just a tad off, i'm back to unlock apocalyptic carnage in the form of chaotic logic/ defying the laws of physics proving that relativity is plutonic/ scis` matters Theoretically, light years ago, I've cruised sonic/ planes/where more heralded names threw sonnets/ and couplets in forms of loose comets./ I've captured a few, in a knapsack or two....honest! Screw homage/ I pay dues to the music yet you dudes is poised to sleep./ And even if one doesn't avoid the peep/ the guise of replies will simply soil the sheets./ The ploys are meek/ Emcees be more at ease/with makin' arse impressions than toilet seats./ My poignant speech/ stays poised and deep when I kick "joints"/ Lose a few in the process/ but those cruisin' the topics receive some "hip points"/ I flip moist/ just as behind a beginner's ears./ Sci's ****** choice/ will stimulate ya canal 'til it's time to swim in there/ and circulate the inner sphere/ wit' sticks from the drum as fishing gear./ That's it from here/can't help but drop superlative prose/ "fate's seal" has managed to balance the world on his nose./ RIKOSHAY: The gravity of the situation hurls comets close enough to fall off the band wagon and curtail coat tails./ Even at half mast the boat sails/ into the center of 3 Ring Inferno Honest Hope Springs. Eternal promise soaks through the bone, breaks the beat, sticks to the stone, and leaves a fertile Ponderosa. I hurdle dominoes but, ashes to ashes, the fact is, we all fall down./ Even Cinderella was stripped of her ball gown/ and her phenomenal luck ran out as her girdle's nominal tuck exposed her girth to the mirth of her inner circle, common hoes, sluts, night stalkers, unJohned hookers,/ and otherwise nonethewiser gawkers and onlookers./ I moved my rook first and left book worms shook worse than Micheal J. Fox in an earthquake. I get in the cut like sneakin on the set of the director's first take... like pubesent facial flesh meeting it's first blade... like the aftershave immediately applied as first aid... like B12 and baking soda at crack's first stage. Are you still on the first page? I'm one unturned page from Chapter Eleven but it's worth breaking the word bankrupt if I can get myself a burp tank. I'll step to the podium with rehearsed thanks for my begrudgingly accepted speech alone. I got mine. To each, his own. "Wunderkind" Wunderkind Cosmic dust first condensed to gravel, My flesh is Earth shrapnel that adhered and evolved when Gods gavel struck the sphere that revolves as a 'ball of confusion' here singing the blues on the secluded frontier of 'Temptation' Isle, persevering with styles through errors and trials, and an attempted denial of frailty beliefs, my longevity will be an infinitesimally brief pimple on the cheek of aging galaxies, to simply speak is a waste of calories and joules/jewels on fools who choose to misuse each God given tool, my tongue was spun from golden spools, in thin sheets, saliva solidifies to gold leaf, My eyes are limpid pools whose feats of blinking rifts created continental shelf shifts, to better gather shellfish, then the selfish invaded the beach, 'Paradise Lost' to intrusion, you then, who tainted the skies with noise pollution? I was planning to prepare a new dish that doesn't yet exist,, but it looks as if those ingreedyants are ruining picnics, I pick 'ticks' off Watchdogs as they hump my trousers like 'pant'o'miming cowards, determination has soured and shifted to exterminating the wicked like an artist forced to make a living as the Orkin man, they command our innocent orphan hands into sweatshops making Reebok hightops, kicked sand in my third eye but everyone else is a Cyclops, exposed my tender spots as micro-soft, graphically shock with more bytes than Pandora's XX'X-Box' with edible panties she bought at Madonna's sex shop, got a Vulcan neck grip on hiphop's new crop of out of place nerds, like Darth Vader imitators in front of Star Trek theatres, surge to Warp speed with 3-D accelerators, my 'G-force' flow rips spines from torsos as onlookers know they can only rubber neck like Gumby or Stretch- Armstrong passing a car wreck, I perfect my paragon in another parsec, so hopes of being better are left like Dogs in marathons, far fetched, play catch, hurdling comets at Galactis while piggy backin' Atlas, Tactician of Abstractness, prehensile style pundit bungee jumpin off monkey bars, balancing 99 bananas on an empty stomach, but so phat if I ever fall off the elastic will snap back, and wrap around the neck of the cat that initiated my plummet, got grammar for dumb kids whose puns get spit like some shit after Montezuma's Revenge, my vowels siege bowels like a Metamucil binge, if they beat around the bush's fringe, I demand their reprimand, cause I create topiaries like Edward Scissor Hands, joined a percussion band to beat 'Twisted Metal' drums for 'Calypso' fans, better run a disk scan I may have slipped in like a Tro-jan and each blinking cursor furthers the chance ya can't withstand retina melanoma, while I continue dodging bull shit like running barefoot in Pamplona. Analysis shows that vowels depend on the phenomenon of harmonics, which is at the very basis of music, while our sensitivity to them proves that the human ear is naturally attuned to harmony. When we hear vowels, we are hearing the laws of harmony, which are ultimately the laws of number that are said to govern the universe... Tree: A There's an easy gradient between phrase spin and the pavement in front of the day's inn/ on the parade fringe, I saved him from a blade sent from a tainted stamen/ fade in a blatent statement from a crazed maven about faith sent from a space station/ I was afraid when an escaped convict started craving the savings of a raving layman/ underneath the autoclave din I could hear refrains of praise blend/ on the day of arrainment, a latent pain derived from the time he was a caveman/ made him display a fake pin and depraved grin... when the press closed in, he caved in/ E Quotidian grievin for a deceased deity, an athenian medium channels nothing but tedium/ greedy guys with beady eyes feed a venus flytrap a demon's semen/ to quiet my rap, peace treaties can't stop the attack, i'm fiendin/ for a premium expedient to put previous devious seeds through bereavement/ a mischevious perinium makes MC stephen hawking lose the meaning/ of life, ya team be steamin when it's clean-out season/ it's raining down south, below freezing, and all this schemeing/ is leaving me bereft of a reason to preach feasible yet unreasonable treason/ walking in on fools in decent precincts, not freeing them but saving them from another beating/ heart bleeding...pulse speeding... appeasing the gods of justice and ushering a new creed in/ Tax: I Many wise men are disguised as simple Simons, while the versa of that vicement materialize it with diamonds like this was consignment, without a stipend I set sails to blaze trails like Vikings venturing from Iceland, trying to define 'niceness' for the blinded that've been mistakin' weakness for kindness, Americana kitana slicing the pie when a knife would suffice is like Roman Empires and King Titus, karma violence leads to inevitable falls from Highness like pending Enron indictments or walking barbwire tightropes with business clients lacking 'net' apprizements, despite this I've been both Jekyl and Hyden, composing life with a pen knife and you might not like the not so nice end, when vicodin siphoned mince pies leave my 'happy' meal short a few French fries I still keep it funkdafied like da brat sharing a cab with 5 french guys, had to add that last line to break the melancholy vibe, as I'm still antagonized by optimistic highs, knowin every radioactive cloud has a silver line. O When membrains are focused I split cities of Gold to little yellow brick roads like Oz Moses/osmosis, de'liver blows like Cirrhosis to scare crows with, tin men pretend they're emotionless, had heart the whole time but rhymes failed to show it, I mold it with more passion than most can, like pots being thrown during that love scene in "Ghost" and, burn 'Obliques worse than aerobics with the Tae-bo man, fix your shower cam here comes the Psycho fan that might let go an unstable flow any time like nitro glyceran, you clones copy my styles so, its like you trying to be my zygoat, damn sacrificial lambs flocking from desert lands are bound to drown in their own plans if they demand slower hour glass sand, cower like cowards or stand and be devoured like custard's last stand by truth soothing cannibals with sweet tooths soured by diet plans. U Tree: ugly duckling pug-faced pugilist ducking 'buck'wild caribou sucklings/ Tax: erudite erupting amongst these defunct thug futilists thus the abstruse cubist shucks rubix husks in disgust, spewing hand-cuffed tutelage/ Tree: fuming fumaroles just busted the booty bridge, dusted with rust, the plush hush must frustrate the sub"straight" and narrow gush/ Tax: subjugate accumulated callousness like pumice to foot crust, consume the full thrusts of sound that leaves a lumox 'sucked' underground and pounds 'em gumless, until flumoxed to 'hum'mus/ Tree: our dumbest puns done punted pundits into orbit around neptune september to june we blow raps for buffoons without a clue soon drummers will march to the same tune crush rock and become sand dunes plus tummy tuck and truck on to cancun.
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Last edited by Saint; 01-16-2018 at 11:21 PM. |
05-24-2024, 09:53 PM | #2 |
Scream
Join Date: Jun 2015
Posts: 3,227
Battle Record: 63-35
Accomplishments - 50 Wins
Champed - BA Picture Roast
- Battle Royale Tournament
- NBL Pic Roast
- Netcees Battle League
- NBL Season 11
- HoT Roast
- BAL Roast
- Tag Team Tourney
- NBL Barcotic Cypher
- SOL Pic Roast
- BA Tag
- XXXtentacion Roast
- 1-2 LR Champ
Rep Power: 22535865 |
"Nooks and Crannies"
Treevortex: up to cuckold's view how'd things get so pernickety such kings dethroned picket line dysentry how'd this immuno debilitator get in me, sentry, to the gates of heaven and hell simultaneous entry depending on outlook eleven nooks and crannies to bury before peasantry arrive with the pitchforks pleasant dreams interrupted with corks popping off the top of bottled gentry incessant trench foot land tenancy had to go to gadflies heave ho bland necromancy barbed wire and garbed choirs hand clemency to conscientious objectors ghoulish figures of the battleground, spectres of power-ridden sceptres our rhythms refresh her of uncertain origin when put under pressure searchin for a particular texture of speak street urchin court jester squeaky clean irked cheshire cat in a tree call the fire department through carrier pigeon parchment pat on back energy release close detonation mustard gas custard's last stand tear gas and hear that bomb blast hittin with the force of pyroclastic flows disappear in black mist steer cracked wrist to guide the ship highest gear in fact to clear peptide glyphs ride history's histomine rush abide in mystery kaleidoscope misery collides with usury joc: now THAT'S some imagery that wide eyes to the future could use to see mutually exclusive moving scenes swooping inwardly intrinsically.... see it all just comes so naturally haven't i casually walked along this path in dreams? and if so... is time as we know it winding backwardly? haven't these words been predetermined astrally only to be exposed by the catalyst known as reality i'm not as smart as the artists pastin paragraphs in front and back of me must be the dust that got stuck up in my cavity so maybe they can answer me take these complicated statements and debate 'em in plain language is fate fact or a fallacy? callously accumulating nothing that really matters ain't a tragedy if everything after's already planned and schemed these are the sands and streams i've unearthed with no names while navigating nooks, crannies and seams searchin for worth in my own brain Tax: Make the 'cursor' explode like propane, 'profane' pro feigns to show he reigns when his brainstorm's barely a drizzle, blow the penny whistle expose raping land be like taking candy from infants, imprint this death sentence to tombstones without punctuation, hesitation is the first 'step' to inactivation, stare casing down till you see the nougat, musicians turned NRA henchmen like Ted Nugent, I hear gunshots well due to project acoustics, the walls are paper thin with deaf ears that misconstrue whisperin, I sit atop the trade center like Newton and eaves drop from the debris a rotten apple and a tattered flag to see the action of gravity, Johnny on the spot with an appleseed sew the sorrows in this little shop of horrors, feed me Seymour, see more hungry days to follow, if the sun could just come out tomorrow I'd be Annie the barren optimist, this desert always exists, I scream with karma twists, clinch fists jump in with both feet from a pair of docks paradox Jonah's Tales, swallowing whales biting more than I can chew, from my vantage point on the pew. Scis Matters: Took a test flying passing colors in a joint of hues We got a way with words, but the evidence points at you Wrap abrasive raps in phrases, see, I coined a few Dope Fiend…from Donald Goines, a true coy recluse left no tracks in my arms, the weather destroyed the clues Drown ya sorrows like the rest of the buoyant few who once were afloat, but jumped from the boat to join a crew Send the lemmings, our pens are fledglings seekin’ sun for light Birds living life for love despite the dove having no love for life Imagine the blood, the fight, in the hands of the son of Christ Flows in the veins, my DNA strand is a run of mics Now the planet is shook, one step gave it a cavernous look My word straight from the river’s mouth, ya more like a babbling brook The bishop who Stowed away Madeline’s rook ringing the necks of earthlings cus Saturn was booked inner-workings of a pattern-less nook and cranny got it down to a T, don’t bother to look for plan B RIKOSHAY: Shifty eyes make for sideways stairs and crooked landings. Imp lies are detected by the smell of cooking panties on telephone wires. Smell your own pyre? Updated niche bait 'n switch. I'm off the hook with antiques. Now you're forced to admit you mistook the transience of my verse for the uncertaintity of rookie ramblings. When-you-sense-no rhythm, and you've been-through-ten-toes and ten fingers, you can always count on impudent foes to implement jurisprudent woes. Laws disrespect art. Let's continue, then throw caution's effect to the wind and shake the shakles of assimilation induced tempo caused when acceptance overrides innovation. Inconsequential instrumentals often direct lyrics. Tempting death with empty threats, manaquin students pose, caught in the net while fishing for compliments. I have a poetic license to kill with silent inuendo. Pause to reflect. Only my humor is offbeat. I don't let the last laugh influence flow. [ May 28, 2002: WRyTERS BLOC ]
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