syrup dnt have the syndrome yoo mister clowney, the king is here, sumbody better crown me, im drownin fakes,like clowney cakes, shit aint down to fate, leve u in a worse of state, than if sumone cap u in a burst of hate, ur the first i'll slay, torter u in elaborate ways, draw for an A.k.,like the back in the day, N.W.A., version of docter dre, just to start it.kinda swag
oh yea, but i say i dont pack guns all the time so u know i just said it to rhyme, i didnt like it but it fited
when i get mad, yall just laugh. but when you get pissed, u throw hissy fits. ill throw hissy fists, if i ever meet you. say hello, beatyou, then be done, defeat you. dont repeat what i say, in your rhyme. just release your own shit, one at a time. please be respectful, to this emcee. cuz im more skilled then you, obviously. i have a monopoly of flows and darts alike. i spit hot shit, you'll get hit with the mic. so ill keep it short, done for today. u were a good sport, until you ran like a stray. haha
i'll start for whoever wants to..... south africa and a disease....... Home of a lethal infection, that cant get healed with the fattest injections, this shits like lethal weapon, you can get killed in a matter of seconds, you shouldve used protection, but this bitch failed to mention... her positive detection of this disease, oh so displeased, you feel so deceived and youve just received your payment for fucking this whore in a basement... sad isnt it....lol
aighttttttt fuck you little fagget , i spit pure acid my shit violent like the shark in lake placid abandon this shit , you aint a fuckin rapper and you know it face the fuckin truth bitch , my shit's o good your addicted to it man , watching you spit should be a crime cause it kills me everytime you say something and you think it rhymes im killin you motherfucka , open your eyes to notice it,what now man , are you BLIND? i should spit on you , im frustration incarnated you made me mad NOW YOU MADE MY DAY and im about to shine fuck you again little ***** , you aint shit to me and probably never will be something close to me probably act hard when in reality , you probably being out picking flowers in the garden for your mommy sketch3 , you dont even know how to spell your name so if you wanna kill youself after this , im ready to take the blame
I walk downs halls hearin the walls call for me/ Gotta get that paint on lock homie/ I take money out of my own lunch account/ For paint,or like always get that five finger discount/ Now look at this,you and me leads to segregation/ Writers write and unite to soon run this fucking nation/ With krink,I'll tell you how I feel,keepin it real,thats my inspiration/ From mad flow to drips,thinkin of new ways to express myself,its all about the inflation/ Of your mind,thoughts that take time,I mean its addicting like desperation/ The feeling is insane,I make that ink rain,Let my marker drain,Got my heart racin/ Throwies and tags,I can't get enough,even thought the consquences are rough/ I'm going to go places,meets some new faces,make people look at my name/ My fame is going to increase,while others decease,But until then I'll be lookin forward to my next peice/ Toys are trying to hard,bombard everything they see,Its getting to a certain degree/ To where they are going over every wall,They ruin our cities reputation/ Instead of getting up,they leave walls corrupt,they line while discracin/ They just lack a certain talent,need to be hit over the head wit a fuckin mallet,look who your facin/ OFB from KC reppin that SCK,everyday your going to see my work expand/ But now I have to end this rant. Getting better?
i rock a hat, hoody and a bandana rag two cans in the hands and my paintin bag paintin is amazin', makes me have to be alert runnin on rooftops, jumpin down and gettin hurt just to escape those hellish blue lights duckin in cover, tryin to escape po-po's sights runnin with the fam, tryin not to get caught runnin 2 miles non-stop, gettin kind of hot shit's racin through my mind, but i can't catch a thought runnin between walls and woods hidin in ditches to runnin through different hoods really don't wanna ditch the goods, the rags we tuck em the paint in a hidden spot, sure we'll chuck em people yellin at the top of there lungs we'll paint till we the best, or second to none cans exploded, no gloves so paint on my hands my graff is for me only, not for people who are fans riskin my future for this one word i am spellin you know there are snithces, so there is no tellin
i jerk and squirt at bitches, make em hurt. like dirt mcgirt, ill stab u, be alert. but dont rush this shit, this rap game. i dont joke one bit, on the road to fame. and its said that you'll always bite my style. your wrong im right, im so hostile. your a pedafile to children, and young men. a pile of shit, like flava whose looks fuckin dead. a corps if you will, but im not racist. i wear sneakers, and sure to tie the laces... hahaha