im sick, to sick im uncurable, my rhymes is hurtin ya mind liek im spiratual, lyrically yu feelin me, sayen "why can't everybody rap like kemi?" i got tha rhymes taht cause suicide in yu weaker guys, cause explosions in tha lab wit dem beaker guys. i stay alive by holden my own, stayen wit models getten my dome, driven in bentleys sitten on chrome. i got tha lifestyle that everybody strives for, tha one taht would take yu 9 lives for. but on real talk iss all fake, juss a kid on bs.com all baked.
tay chops and frys mc's like garlic cooked potatos more exotic and intresting then an island south of barbados get it straight its not from the cuts its from downtown and across some super models butts read it straight the handys kinda wild but ive been doing vomits tell its seeming kinda vile across the street and maybe on your house not only did I take your money but also touched your spouse and now that shes seen game thats better then before she looks inside herself and sees that shes a whore which makes you come to realize who really is you another entity thats not really true ? so please stand back and stare at the cold glare have a smoke and find its not fair that im such a baller and im so fly and god dosent care about the other little guy
ok ill battle you, you, you and you/ all at once so you dont know what the fuck to do/ ill spit on you/ take all your respect and fuckin shove it/ i dont got respect from no one and i fuckin love it/ it means i can talk shit about peoples moms all day/ and at the end of the rhymes they dont got nothing to say/ cause most of you is little kids, and i dont want to play/ just wait 10 mintues, micheal jacksons on his way/ i heard about some bitches that like to fuckin talk/ fucked up on crutches and now that they cant fuckin walk/ there life is pointless they might as well be lined in chalk/ hopefully bitches get busted and they never undo the lock/ when they in jail theres gonna be a dude named frank/ streatch there ass so big i got a new parking space for my tank/ they always be sniffin coke so there arms really lank/ now let me set this rhyme off like a fat line of crank/ fuck your mom fuck your sister and fuck oprah too/ your bein hunted like when dog the bounty hunters after you/ you know what to do/ start runnin and dont stop/ but if you do ill gurantee you'll only hear 1 shot/ youll get rocked right up in your top/ full out cement sidewalk belly flop/ it was a bunk one i know
i'll battle you...i'll start it off then i'll hit you up like 2pac when ya on tha floor i shoot ya with my glock i spit 24 hours a day like a clock RAGE so hot, he melts his ice so imma give ya some advice never say that shit, you cant battle u just like 50 cent, when shit gets tough u go on and tattle i'm the illest dude, i'm sicka than AIDS infesting ya body killin you alive imma bring my army and sting you 10 times worse than a bee hive so fuck you and ya shitty life i dont care, i'm gettin a blowjob right now from ya wife oh wait u cant get a bitch, so it must be ya sister and i'll burn and annoy ya worse than a blister i'm RAGE the ultimate disser u just a little boy, i address none as mister you probably a fat geek i'll destroy you every day of the week hold a cheesburger in front of you, smack ya and eat it now that's some street shit when i slice ya up, you goin need more than a fuckin first aid kit
alright diss goin ta all yu... yo kemi'll puchu on full blast// betta say ya best lines cause day gone be ya last// i puchu ina body bag not ina cast// pump led inta ya stomach but don't come out ya ass// right through ya back, im stayin strapped, wit tha best weapons used in iraq, so prepared for a situation got grenades in tha pack// diss ta rage - ya shyt annoys me, its way to weak, prolly thinken ya games right at its peak, wait it is...cause thass tha best yu got, thinken ya shyts hot but its way to NOT. i'll beachu like a catholic school teacher, or have yu layin face up in front of a preacher. prolly can't getta gurl they all turn they backs, gurls be fienden me like my names crack. got no game, no style, no rhymes at all, if yu were in my shoes yud trip an fall. haha yu prolly gettin nervous, wit waht i juss hit yu wit, youn't even diserve this.
now taht i actually read everyones, everyone besides nsscanlon should juss stop lol...juss bein straight up witchas
fucked as shit and im back or more get ill with me and we'll fuck some whores gettin ill is a hobby and a well one at that im the motherfuckin crunkass amast in the hat bitch i dont play, but i lied cause i do ill play shit and whatever the fuck you wan' do i aint got no flow, but i dont give fuck one of my idols is the aflack duck man yeah yeah yeah and ho ho ho i dontc are if i win or not yo i dont want to compete, cause im a beaurocrat and ill befirend tou cause remember im the mast in the hat thing one and thing 2 brothren i dont care im'az do what i awant andgrow out my hair boompow surprise. no "oooooooohhhh" hahahahhhh steel reserve is the number 2 love in my life and PBR is on that level
Kemi, for real, who the fuck you tryna impress?/ Don't take this shit serious, after all it's just the internet/ So lemme get this straight, you gonna put ME on full blast?/ If my rhymes were garbage, even you would dig through the trash/ The only reason you frontin' is because you're on a computer/ In reality, Kemi is a transvestite bitch who works at Hooters/ That's no lie, I spit the straight truth/ Fuckin' with me is like a baseball fuckin' with Babe Ruth/ Blow you straight out the atmosphere with just one swing/ When I'm done with you, you gonna be kissing my pinky ring/ Asking for some sympathy for watchu been through/ And you ain't even seen all the shit that my spear do/ Matta fact Kemi, I dare you come at me with your Iraqi weapons/ I'll come at you with that shit they used during 9/11/ Before you come here and try spittin' a couple lines/ Remember I'm the one who shot your boyfriend nine times/ Edit: to Kemi...
who the fuck u think u is? talkin about girls? ya mom wont even give ya a kiss another white boy another fight witha toy u cant hit me ni**a, i'll counterpunch ya shit like mayweather while ya stunned pop ya head off with my burreta dont ask for forgiveness, u shoulda asked the bishop i'll write these rhymes with ya blood and every last drop that's what u get for cooperatin with a cop u think i'm in my prime? na son, this the beginnin pigs betta come get me for this lyrical crime i cant get a girl son? man i bagged ya dime sayin i'm weak? bro i'll chalk u up and have leakin that's what ya get for speakin beatin me like a catholic? fuck u christian and ya preachin homie u a puss, u aint got no balls fuckin with rage equals ya automatic downfall
sumoe's shit was solid but rage's response was mediocre. kemi's disses were terrible though and didnt make alot of sense
props ta sumoe, hit me bad. but rage, yu still gotta spit betta lines - no beef either, iss juss freestylen.
haha...just fuckin' around and shit, not to be taken seriously. But hey, Ghost, if you think you can do better be my guest.
Whys there so many toys round here/ braggin bout drugs murder pimpin and beer/ rapping aint about how much shit you smoke/ it's about how well you wrote/ Thinkin you dope/ but you done choked/ like killin ya self with rope/ ya shits dirty, pass me the soap/ I'ma clean your act up, for good/ ya know what I'ma take my glock/ I'ma clean your act up, for good/ Just the way I should/ remember the meaning of rap/ forget about how to smoke crack/ I reminisce about those good times/ while I listen to gangsters makin music/ tryna keep my head together so I dont lose it/ when I'm in my car just cruisin..