₦airaland Forum

You don't deliver the asteroid punches. . .
your plastic writtens reached the elastic limit, ricocheting back with drastic hittings
You get amputated like neuropathy victims!

Matching with him is known as child abuse, hommies might puke
while i bump your spinal cord with my bats and maul.
On your head i drop pounds of pot
to crack your skull!

Head rolls when i flip an axe
Quick to give out bars like triggered gats
You kent spit that fast, if you'll deliver clark!
He still the ffag, I'm pounding with killer bars!
Mind darker than Malik Arga's knee cap
Leaving big scars on your six packs when i tear your chest with disc pads!
He's shaking,palms wet,cold feet. .urchin now
he wish he swallow all he spat
Never punching back, an amputee in a boxing match
Your hommies wont help, they all falling back like bunches of lumber jack. . . . .

, . . . .

[quote author=deathstroke][/quote]The -bitch wouldn't accept the c/o. .
He knows i'm locked with a mic in a freezer - I flow so cool
And he's just a tout, that rhymes burn with fun - local dude

deathstroke: ......u feel heady/ huh? or hommie thinks he cn win many/ ...check fb d way i beat becky/.(not my name) see. i injure and sling pelvis/ land on axis/ in texcees / ve killed emcees / so if u think ELVIS/ u cn c/o me/ i iii jst hang ur butt on strange clouds while i gather"""""" more ass""" like BOB/

holla!
do u knw me?......i am deathstroke


##only a fool would challenge me in my own game#q

Bytchy kid, I'm calling you out.

mikuz: But cats know who come FRESH WITH THE RHYMES, so when I pack explosives to blow you up, Ill have B.J up in the air like getting a HEAD IN THE SKY!/

dhope shyte!
Only dhope heads could decipher this - (B.J)blow jobb in the air = getting a head in the sky(sky head). I'm thinking your opponent's named B.J.

Bytch! I told you; you aint sick!
I'm quick to kick bricks on your ribs, and give you red lips like lipsticks

sosiqdude: Sir IBIME,,i dey Greet

A monk on mic, You're rhyming bad/
You stretch lines than local dry cleaners/
Your lines are crooked, I could kill you with five straight bars/
Compress your lines, make it short like my Knickers/
And leave the long story for those building Sky scrappers!

Quick freeze


I flow than the gush of fliud mixtures
you give light punches, your fist must be luminous
Niggas can't stand my shots like a cripple taking nnude pictures
You aint equal up to the task standing on a cupid box!

In your eyes, a stick's stucked to make a big dot so you get a point of view what this gee's got
Your lines aint tight, you'r hitting the space bar on your key-board

Yeah!

I'm the offspring of john and teigen, bytch! I'm a legend!
My essence is to diminish your presence!
Cut your ego's fist, mail it to your box - I bring you dead end(hand)

'Cos

I'm the chosen 1, you are 3quarter like baggies
I light up the game like car keys
I shark beings,
I'm the big fish you and your bandits are packed up like sardines!
I throw pounds of cess on chests, Bytch! I crack ribs

Awesome,

I make the fans clap when I bang ffags on the ground fast like Army boots during match past!

I'mma

Knife and axe your dad's assss, fork your mummy hoe
You dont have the heart for this game, you a dummy, bro
cos you'll die when your ffag mates clap fo yo bloody flow
why?you suck and fly like mosquitoes
when you buy joe, lemme know.

No one accepting my call out Cowards!

kslib?? You're not a vet!. . .

You get stone-d to death, you glanced at medusa/
Think paste splash on my vest, as i blast ya medula!!!

you fly and suck like mosquito. . . Your lines are boring/the only sick thing about you is the 2nd syllable in your nick/

Open call out, anybody can accept and get Inhumed in my haunted well.

eliminate: so watz d thread all about?

you can see the topic. you just need to use your brain

strax: i guess u like sex-tape/'k' i qat u mehn u look like the first-ape/'slib' z a typo-error since ur barz 'slip'(sleep)/i gotta wake them up with my hard whip

Your lines are basic, you are a bitch we should call you esther!/

you are weak, man. . .


I just need to murder songs to X tracks/

mikuz man, wad up

Nigga, Shut the phuck up!/ I'm evil, Imma eat you for breakfast, your mummy for launch/
you are notting horror/
I spit hot like I'mma deliver wild fire/
Burn mics like smoking vick,tyson,miller and myers/
My punch,lines crack ribs/ than a heavy comedian thrusting on a cervix/
my raps draw attentions, from south to north, west. . . I'm an Art-east/
No one can withstand this sound rap wit/
Any other rapper is just a fool jogging on a cash desk - a counterfeit

great verses

hmmm