₦airaland Forum

FOR BETTER FOR WORSE[b]FOR BETTER FOR WORSE[/b]FOR BETTER FOR WORSE

Quite sorry for her. .But she'd never forqet the laws that qoverns marriaqe. . ."FOR BETTER WORSE".

Knuckles 'll iqnite ur head. . .as jabs be drillinq ur brain piece/ squeeled with a maim fist/ I text battlinq u. . .means i'm breedinq ya death script/ coz a punch 'll cause u an abdominal rupture. . .have u killed by 'a pen d1ss'/ (appendix) 5naira is a cheap faqq0t. . .a test1s raw eater/ since ya either a b1tch or n1qqa/ i'll have to 'school my jabs with sexual1ty'. . .to unscript u qeezer/ coz a punch 'll qive u a 'unisex' strike. . .once i raise my fist to bleed ya/ My hiqh flow dope/ from d nitro quotes/ that my biro chokes/ ...& Dj5naira?. . .his win in text-rap are 'hardly seen'. . .but i alter d hydro notes/ so d only way he qets 'maqnified' in bot. . .is when he utilizes his 'micro scopes'/ He'll qet muffled to death. . .when i launch in my bender/ to punch diz offender/ for actinq a hunqe of contender/ since 'money is our qrind'. . .i'll have 'naira crushed in a blender'/

66Kazna99:
When I'm... firing rhymes like fiery lines/
I'm firing blind, just tryna inspire all these tiring minds/
Neural impulses flash till I vaporize your esoteric essence/
You dissipate to a different state, soul dismissed out of The God's presence/
I'm not much of a sweet talker/
I just spit it, spit the lyrics like bad pure water from street hawkers/
Y'all follow my words, bunch of creepy online stalkers/
I just do me, I don't ever follow online culture/
Chat room service, food for thought to these online vultures/
Verses so Monolithic, I just build rhyme sculptures/
If the DJ puts on a bad beat I tell em scratch that/
I don't spit the shít, I'm just squeeze the words out my ąss crack/
No messiah, I carry a cross across & that's that/
You hoę, Mariah, you carry a bag or backpack full of packed snacks wearing a snapback/
I do this & don't stop till my head hurts/
You not tough if pull out a gun out of your red purse/
If rhymes are bullets I pull it out of my rear end/
Won't stop shooting till your career ends/
You've reached a dead end, there ain't no turning back/
Once you turn your back, it's your ashes in a Urn when you burn to black/
Git turned to scrap/
When I say Imma cut out the crap & cut to the chase/
That means when I chase & catch you, I'll put cuts to your face/
I'll leave slits in the side of your neck with razor blades/
Blades sharp as shark teeth, marks deep even though they was paper made/
Anomaly7 really ain't an anomaly/
First he formally requests for a battle & when he's left in suspended animation he'd start acting abnormally/
(what's with the dots dude?)

(hands him the mic)

nice one.

gottoboy:
Senior bawo?

Do you still remember Jeremiah Cannibal man in the whatsapp text-rap groupie?

demsid:
Hmm. Where this ill boy come from wey come dey tackle him seniors for here.

you'd get smashed for that word.
I've watched you grow up here son.

66Kazna99:
Cool tho.

thanks man

How'r you spitting the koko/ when your scripts pictures as tøto/ that barely hits for the lotto/. . .
. .Your rap skills are worthless just like your name/ it only gets hyped & framed/ but sooner I'll get you exposed. . .cause ya a dykê & láme !

. . .I'm leaving this faintly man dead/ he's getting just a plainly grand-wreck/ damaged with broken forearm. . .once he gets pummeled with plenty grenades/ he'll never hold a win against me. . .cause he's only coming away EMPTY HANDED /

I'm fierced as the man. . .my every shot results in killing/ I beat opponents half dead. . .if rouse, my thoughs be grilling/ ...At this point, I'll swing the hatchet or a sword to drill him/

My words are frilling/ from the rap I shoot/ it'll leave him with slaps & bruised/ beat the farmer. . .when I split his armour with the racks & shooks/ till he 'shows his true color'. . .when I beat him 'black & blue' /
. . .my technique is cruel . .dark & crook !!

But I'd rather toss you for a dice game . .cause you lack the ephizzy of spitting/ still, I'll have you stroke. . .when I frizzy ya weak limp/ once I drop 'naira down for a gamble'. . .I'll give him the tizzy or hitting/ & the way 'ah play you'. . .it'll look like a city in Benin/. . .Applahoue*

I'm frying this tout/ have him spiked in this bout/ sink my finger down his voice-pipe. . .for trynna fight with this lord/ till his 'tone goes solo'. . .when I strike him with swords/ since he has choosed to tempt my anger. . .he'll get muffled for 'crying out loud'
/ . . .so low*

For attempting a fight with Ill. . .you'll be shattered beyond ya form/ when I strike the thundering gun/ to blunder the dùmb/....they can call my punch a parental hit. . .cause a jab 'll 'murder this son/ once his slaughter is done/


illness!!!

How'r you spitting the koko/ when your scripts pictures as tøto/ that barely hits for the lotto/. . .
. .Your rap skills are worthless just like your name/ it only gets hyped & framed/ but sooner I'll get you exposed. . .cause ya a dykê & láme !

. . .I'm leaving this faintly man dead/ he's getting just a plainly grand-wreck/ damaged with broken forearm. . .once he gets pummeled with plenty grenades/ he'll never hold a win against me. . .cause he's only coming away EMPTY HANDED /

I'm fierced as the man. . .my every shot results in killing/ I beat opponents half dead. . .if rouse, my thoughs be grilling/ ...At this point, I'll swing the hatchet or a sword to drill him/

My words are frilling/ from the rap I shoot/ it'll leave him with slaps & bruised/ beat the farmer. . .when I split his armour with the racks & shooks/ till he 'shows his true color'. . .when I beat him 'black & blue' /
. . .my technique is cruel . .dark & crook !!

But I'd rather toss you for a dice game . .cause you lack the ephizzy of spitting/ still, I'll have you stroke. . .when I frizzy ya weak limp/ once I drop 'naira down for a gamble'. . .I'll give him the tizzy or hitting/ & the way 'ah play you'. . .it'll look like a city in Benin/. . .Applahoue*

I'm frying this tout/ have him spiked in this bout/ sink my finger down his voice-pipe. . .for trynna fight with this lord/ till his 'tone goes solo'. . .when I strike him with swords/ since he has choosed to tempt my anger. . .he'll get muffled for 'crying out loud/ . . .so low*

For attempting a fight with Ill. . .you'll be shattered beyond ya form/ when I strike the thundering gun/ to blunder the dumb/....they can call my punch a parental hit. . .cause a jab 'll 'murder this son/ once his slaughter is done/


illness!!!

demsid:
I Don die whr av I been await ur reply soon.

pardon!. .
I didn't get you. .
you mean?

JigsawKillah:
read carefully; the pains of a nigga destined to live a Prof of the school of hard knocks with a lesson to give I done run the hard streets, I find it stressing to breathe losing so much on my way, yet it's reckless to grieve I done see all the action, a gun pressed to my knees nuzzle hot, I'm puzzled but why am I next to receive the holy water, I only bother if my death would be brief or I'd be shot closed to my heart and get left to bleeding I stared out, saw my bro stretched 'cross the street watched his chest if it heaved, I pray the gent ain't deceased not yet Lord, I sweat for this gee, take my neck for him please I remember my fervent prayers hoping the rest was a dream Boss, my legs ain't feeling my shoes my lips are swollen, he asks "are you still with the goods? else you'd be feeling worse when I'm done drilling with yous" my whole 2011 was spent sharing Mills with the crews a nigga hungry, how else you thought I be dealing with dues? in 2003, I watched my father sleeping with tools as a child, I felt being a street King was cool in JSS1, I was getting daggers sneaked into school and niggas asking too many questions, I ain't speaking with fóols my man zero crippling the dudes who think snitching is cool niggas swimming with sharks cause they thought they swimming in pool maybe Obesemf is right, maybe I never pulled a gat but picture being in my hood and not be cool with frats without enough protection to stay neutral if you move this way too slow, a jump will make you cold that's real bro, etched in my veins is the street life used to be hanging around my Junction till midnight cops races ain't new to me, I could give Ice Cube an insight too fast too furious, nigga you best keep your drifts nice if my pleas don't get me the money, the clips might my niggas won't leave a kobo on you, they frisk nice from age 9, I been bringing tools to every fist fight gambling and I goes together, like beans, rice only a curved pair of dice can give you 6 twice i think about the disses and the hate they bringing they speak about the realest, yet they say he villain but Jig's about the sickness, only way he winning reaching out to bîtches, you don't pray to see this I live the life you niggas craving, got niggas hating smoked leaves at 5, at 6, I was cigaretting smoking weed leftovers, eyes dazed, dead, sober coke bottle shaping niggas faces, when we figure hating

nice piece of writting. . it'll definitely make someone fall for it,coz it's deep.

pardon my typed errors.
my keyboard mêss it up. .
I meant to type. .(Is so low. .Isolo. .check the credibility. . .I club it)

[quote author=ridwanayo post=46339709]my song fills the sky/to fulfill delight/anytime I attach my gill to mics/. . .every lines I spit makes wave/break face/in eight place/ from the wreckage /
.......it's best,mate/ you find a 'cøndøm' . .to keep the 'safe' range/
you spit . .I vomit/you offer bars. .& club it/...that's just the logic. . .once I land a punch,it shifts planets from it's obits/
His credibility. .of this homo/ ....it's solo/when he performs solo/with Isoso/. . .but since he seeks the 'wring' like Frodo/. .a stage he'd throw blown/. ...I'll sink my jabs through his 'chamber'. .like it was Togo/
he can't 'stand a chance' against me. . .this is a flawless try/. .to claw the dýkě/with a saw or pipes/till he's injured & cries/. . .coz when I take in 'debate'. .I raise the net. .with a trawl & slice!!
Every line I drop . .is made to shine/coz they crave define/. .I shoot ablaze with rhymes/to blaze the swíně/. . .
. .he talks of catching feelings. . .how he embraced a dime/. . .but if he says girls do caresses & 'rub his chest'. .their only trying to 'ERASE HIS MIND' !! !!
If you need a battle. .call a mod. .lets pop a toast/. .coz I need to drop a roast/with the prose I coast/. .they 'amounts' for any dead soul I roast/. .coz it takes me nutting to tarnish your. .I can always 'afford' your ghost!!!!!!


Tchamba. .the bait. .


illness!!!!!!

[quote author=dj5naira post=46260234]Care not how he carefully styled/ . had his melody piled/
Say my name and to die by my hand 'ld be ur 'destiny, child!'/

My pers game stings much/ punch is not what the dweeb dubs/
Sellin' apple be part of Steve jobs/

foe refresh/ after snorin', slept/ on ur borin' Shet/
Every beef I "dish" this "morning fresh!!"/

Fans all o'er, ne'er got all of/ what happened next? Dot dot dot/
Pillar of roses, not salt ...lots of love/




yo really not the man. . .who's complex in battles/so why acting tough?. . .like a raging cattle/that barely dazzles/
. . .but I rein supreme. . .with the rap & nook/beat opponents with a half dead-look/so stop acting rude/or you get smashed & bruised/. . .my battle-rap is lethal. . .sick as hell/spit bullets with aggression. . .the clips,i held/the motive is stealth/till you witness my vicious wreath/. . .any step to spike me,'ll have your loosen parts in Uganda. . .once you get smacked in 'massacre'/. . .with Buhari's motive. .I'm to 'change naira' from who he was. .with punches that packs a mass-acre/
In any attempt to fight back . .I'll strike hard. . .bring ache with wrecked-techs/if he frains to start the fight. . .I'll crave his dead end/. . .I'm having the mofo writhing in agony. . .face the conviction. . .take the pain,mate! /yo ' behind this bar already. . .it's best the cut read ya 'sentence'/
Every jab I strike at u. . .comes with an assaulting storm/you'll get murdered with a cold choke. . .& a noose to strangle ya neck. .till the 'coffin' comes!!
My combat scheme. . is to prey on victim/if naira chooses the combat ring. . .my jabs 'll fray to rip him/. .youse a dopehead?. .that'd be when I slam ya skull with cracks/. .what's a heavyweight punch against this bantam!. .I'd rather have him culled with slaps/



illness!!!

StevePunch:
[color=#006600][/color]thread for I and illmortal... Any mod

try draw any of 'em for our thread.

nice vocabs

Dope joint. .
Thumbs up Tonnyblaze

words that never left me. . .'cause I feel the right to be me/spit the truth in the booth. . .anytime I hold the Mic to be me/I've proven survival techniques. . .so I won't have to fight to be me/
. . .I'm just the man behind my shadows. . .& I'd really like to be me/
But my heart is another empty place. . .a space I've created to sink in/to express my deeper thinking. . .I take it by the tears dripping/
The burden of regrets. . .is a bit too heavy for me/& with the right to think the worse of me. . the wit is deadly to me/. .the cuddling of pain. . .brings the affection that grips on weary for me/
I don't think I'd hurt less truth to be told/but I only wish you'd understand. . .how a stressed youth could be bold/
The curtain to my heart is blown open. . .& I'm trynna find an exit to my pain/I wish I'd climb furthermore. . .to find the limit to my shame/
I've only learned to strike at my best. . .that every fight is a test/that every knight is a pest/. . .their courage is a light from the heist/that holds sights in Lucent/
we hold no scars. . .even when we fight to survive/& our mights bold as stars. . .slick,tight to bore pipes/
Music is written to the sound of rain/a rhythm that surrounds your pain/from around the lane/. . .it's burden weights a 'pound' or cent/
what happens to a soul whipping in blood/when the heart's broken. . .the scars begins to flood/
Telling me that it'll get better. . .is a drag with ties/a tortured vision like a slap to eyes/
A painful death. . .behind my cast/. . .I wish I'd go back in time. . .or rhyme the last/or rewind my past/. . .both it is a damaged courage when the mind is crashed/
Drowning by my own mystery. . .when I flow to the mic/outshine the prime of your lines. . .when I hold to the light/to ignite the vibe of life to survive. . .it's bold to the mights/
Fųćķ publicity. . .I'm the dwarf plant. . .that'll never grow to the hype!!!
That's why I put my rhymes to the walls. . .for my thoughts to crumble/put my lines to the brawl. . .for my swords to rumble/build bridges against ya flow. . .so this words won't stumble/
At times,i do certain things to cover my lies. . .so you won't see my hurts/
my heart leads my destination. . .& I'm driven by thoughts/



illness!!!!!

[quote author=Rapmaestro post=19899601]DEMSID listen

Since y'all be dissing.../
and dems be pissing.../
me off..
But I go blow his nose.. Like helping him be sneezing/
and have his teeth be like G*w*t.. It'll be effin missing/

see...
My ambition to win/
conquers all.. And my vision to spleen/
bombing this beings.. Like i gat addiction to pins/
jes cos i punched him in the chest..
And brought his heart out thru his as$, i'm now a magician to him/

modafvcka..
Lemme tell u a story of dis wack god/
so lemme drop my ammos first, off dis starboard/
use skulls as seetee.. And feed off some badbloods/
while y'all kneels and listen attentively... Like we in abbott/

Jan 21 2013... Tag team tourney started/
Rap Maestro €t Deadscrollz... knocking funny fagg head/
startd wit illmortal barz..had their Shredded fore limbs touring athens/
cos we took em all d way in a casket..
But i gatta admit my lines was fvcking funny, damning/
but deadscrollz pulld d team wit dexterity/
droppin hot ishes respectively/
i couldn't help but wonder.. If i wouldn't turn out to be a necessity/
but he pulled me along.. ''Jes try ta create d.ope lines selectively''/
and Lo, I improved as we climbed tha ladder/
tourney was effing clean.. Sleak was a tight mc.. Yo just couldn't bribe tha broda/
mikuz gat furious cos peepz dey hype tha latter/
so a colleague got banned.. Sacked, without knowing who typed tha letter/
made peepz like stacomaster/
that instead of brawling, striking better/
but i guess evryone cool now..
Like y'all wrapped up in a Nike Sweater/

so
we passed on to brawl the metaverse/
element & killaverse had this really mental verse/
i mean sick sh?t.. Full of metal barz/
almost ended a tie.. Thanks to scrollz..
Cos in dis sh?t we ball wit real men...
You wit pvssies.. Only 'DEM' be bigga gals/
directed also Demsid nd his weaker pals/
and en the blud mafiaz came on wit glocks and uzi/
they raided our stocks and use it/
agains these boss and pupils/
deadscrollz fought till he fainted..
But i limped on, wit scars from knocks & bruises/
the way scrollz wielded his sword was Wow.. The loss amuse me/
i gat caught... Knelt like islamic praying.. I mean it was like the LOST are muslim/
but...
Evryone displayed maturity.. Non abuse me/
for the wack words I'm using/
they all sat me down..
Taught me the way of the gun..
That's how I learnt to use the guns I'm sizzling/

the moral of the story..

Dems, Run along/
cos yo puns are wrong/
my ammos new, you guns are worn/
check the hall of fame.. I gat my name in a tourney as a runner up/
so.. If you think you'd diss this respected dawg.. Wit you neglected words..
I'd send yo to hell in Arsenal Jersey... And Inscribe on yo tomb.. "TILL DEATH, HE WAS A 'GONER', Pup'' Gunner[/quot

I beat fägś/with big slaps/make 'em shift back/once i drift rap/. . .punches lands with a swift of døpenesś. .when my fist-crâcks/ya windpipe with ditchêd gágs/. . .heavy enough to lift rats/from they horizontal zigzag/
It's due that your verse 'd get a reply/but It'll be with techs & the nine/to have you wrecked with half eyes!!
punch-precise. . .'ll have you blazed with scars/if you place a spar/. . .I expose 'high courts'. . .once i 'raise the bar'/ . .I'm blessed to rap/so i find no stress with that/. . .
Kròne was the pen ôgre. .& i fight like him/or like Vikings/. . .most say i like fighting/with knife striking/. . .but this time. . .i'll throw jábs like Mike Tyson/
I hate blades. . .I'd rather battle with blunt of spoons/have you thrust with wounds/. .drain your brain matter. . .ya blood splatters across the rooms/. .it's certain that you have 'crossed' your doom/
so I'm having you 'crucified' with a sword or loom/. . .the thoughts assumed/brings forth exhumes/of hotter fumes/. . .to choke ya vocal cord & lump/
I only grabbed the mic/to smash the díkę/with the mac i strıke/. . .I disfigure his physique. . .break half spines/in his body. . .from the wreck i chime/
you'll get killed with the digits i shoot. . .from my rampage of lines/. .when i lunch an ak47 at you. . .& have ya damaged by nine/

illness!!!!

*iLLmortaL*

hello

Sagealveen:
Let's make it 4bars.

ok get an admin

Donjay007:
dont come and complain of being scammed

perhaps not

Donjay007:
dont come and complain of being scammed

perhaps not

Sagealveen:
6lines c/o.

why not make it 6 bars?

StevePunch:
Battle? 8lines..anyone

I'm in. .

opsy147:
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I hope it's genuine. . .I'll get across to you on whatsapp.

nuttin's much about here anymore.