Originally Posted by
Virbius
And if Bag ain’t do that, then I will...son.
Apologies in advance if this shit is ignorant,
But I gave your girl a “Senna”, I mean, a quick Brazilian.
You know the Wu-Tang track Icecream? Yeah? all day?
Well, that ain’t the same shit that applies to Soar bae. [sorbet]
She’d dry grass you out... you should hear what the [horse hay].
Listen here... she blows your balance like it interferes with inner ears when you’re in her rear til you’re in arrears, and...
Sure, you rock her world, and her world rocks yours...
I mean, Soar’s got his girl, and his girl’s got sores.
Ain’t know where that shit’s been, like “cryptocurrency”.
She’d trade all you’ve got for rocks. no Flintstones currency.
And since Bag seems to think this is his show currently,
I’ll put his carcass on the ropes, and that shit’s no puppetry.
@ Celph...
Where you at, Celph?
Compare my alpha wolf shit to your “Rover” approach...
Now you tryna play dead, I’mma go for the throat.
He told me that... based on my skill... he refused to believe I was new to the league.
I thought, aww, well ain’t that cute as can be? more compliments than one dude can receive,
Made me blush, all the blood running through from the knees, fucking, swooned in the breeze, and...
Shut the fuck up.
My self or Celph, which of us is rapping best?
The one without the ‘p h’, right? ...that’s the acid test.
And in that case, his result... hmm, well that’s an ‘f’.
I tried to be a nice guy and at least act impressed,
As rank’s addressed... left me mad perplexed...
As he sank in depth from a passive flex to this panicked, stressed, massive wreck,
From relaxed with pets and botanics sets, to sat depressed, prolly take off his tie to let me snap his neck,
Last words... ‘go on and do your duty’, like it’s Stannis death.
King with no dynastic spread, was he banished? fled?
To prove I’ve got no malice left, I’ll help him catch his breath;
As blood that bubbles from his lungs runs down the palace steps.
Your ongoing existence is some shit which I can’t condone, based on bars alone.
If I pass the zone of this bastard’s home, I’m leaving armoured drones disguised as garden gnomes.
More than a Dahmer clone, it’s an art to hone... sorry, I’m drama prone. I’ll leave a farting tone on his answerphone.
I’ll feed his dog his forefathers’ bones, til that bitch puts on half a stone, barks and groans.
This overkill, yo, for real, I’ll even leave his carcass owned.
This player putting up walls, I’m putting little people down to make a point: Carcassonne’d
Reply With Quote
