02-03-2013, 04:13 PM | #1 |
Senior Citizen
Join Date: Aug 1997
Posts: 3,871
Battle Record: 4-3
Rep Power: 0 |
epideMIC vs ConCept
epideMIC
A kid named ConCept's palms sweat as he joined a tourney to play Then realized he'd drawn Ep and got burdened for days Certain he'd take a loss cause all my raps were iller He grew butterflies in his stomach like he swallowed caterpillars Always wack with filler man...you have no chance to fight But lucky for you I had other plans that night So you won by default...the accomplishment of you're life Well I'm came this time to kill your confidence on the mic Wait...I meant in text since you probably can't spit You can write some wack punches but honestly...that's it My raps hit with fast wit it's just so damn easy Changed u're name from I-Witness cause know u can't see me So please freeze and stop I don't know why you chose to rap Didn't you read the odds? Cats already know u're wack I ain't holding back so make sure your damn mouth is shut This coward likes running away and now he ran out of luck Out of touch with reality...battle me? You're facing hell Son you ain't ready for how I'll cripple you so brace yourself! You need major help to save your health so start calling Hell you must be Joseph's wife the way you love Stalin Making a T with your hands trying to call for down time You must live on the moon cause you're world revolves around mine But it's over now I showed you how to rhyme now show respect Cause in the end I'll be the only one that holds the cheque Already soaked in sweat now this son's bout to cry Cause when he came to shake my hand I left him hung out to dry... ConCept suffer a repeated case of stage fright & no show a practical dodger, you even look like Nomo these attacks seen form a vaccine, here to kill an epidemic Im servin the ace up my sleeve match point Im set to win it bitch you're finished, u can't imagine anyone sicker spitten cuz you're seein' a portrait of me, when you picture winnin' stick to knittin', while i flip the writtens, & cause some beef e you're weak kid u couldn't land a punch with Dhalsim's reach quit rappin', take up painting, first round, Shooter draws defeat hah you're called elite? bitch puhleease, i sense some false deceit you'll fall to me by way of choke-slam, a thing this big Show needs while i flow keys, that'll push your wig back worst then nose bleeds from last row seats, even the U.N.'s envious of this mastered-piece just laugh at e while this kid gets drunk off my spit like winetasters observe how I shake up the spot more then redheads with vibrators quick to cry hater, cuz your posts recieve more tips then fly waitors dyin' to win? "too bad" no ones expectin' a suicide at the end you could be a lion tamer and still not take 'pride' in your 'pen' die at the end, when i lay a beatdown worst then Bis's production u're jockin me now, want on a 12? i'd have to get a penis reduction gotcha duckin with a jab and go rapid flow that would flip the Arc a wild throw to McGwire the way your punches missed the Mark rip your heart, death's no joke its not somethin you can just laugh off a ghetto Hannibal Lector, a red dot sale, and your brains half off -I-WitneSS © PunchLine Perverts KS |
|
|