 re: Open Mic: Kaeo.Seru vs Notebook (NoteBook Wins)
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I the Legend.
Force of the Elite, with the stance of the calm, relaxed.
My song's are branded with mechanical bombs, attached.
Hold your pistol, holmes.
Because your punches lack consistant flow to boost pieces.
I stomach your keystyles with chicken bones & blue cheese, bitch!
The Slayer is here, sir: with a pattern of instant sick shit.
Bullets richote from the mirror, and shatter your spittin image.
Inhumane.
.. a breeded creation, caught in the wrath of the hand-made.
Suited up with a black rose from the crack in the landscape.
My tongue's hotness erupted, 'til the Sun brung rocks & stars.
.. my battle-verses're strung together by crunk\punk-rock guitars.
Contend? Ha. Your spittin' whack lines, faggot.
Formulatin' smoke & dust with crackpipe addicts aligned with the last nine planets.
My rap lines hittin' you with fast swipes to ya Prada,
Slash spines with the tops of the Jackknife & Kitana.
I attach fright to the calm with this flashlight to your top, bruh.
Breaking the peace with deathscreams in the Last Night of Nirvana.
I'm the Crowned King 'cause my sounds seem heartless.
Grabbing the win's a long reach like Yao Ming's arm length!
My mouth bleeds dark phlegm,
From the roots of Hell, the fuckin' ground keeps charred stems
Death hasn't hit your community? Your town needs scarred men..
Keepin' the rest of my writtens kept in the kit, tied.
No need to deaden your vision once the retina's ripped wide.
I want the bread & the kicks with green stitched into the clean linen
..with Gawd as my partner to keep the steeze livin'.
Muthafuccaa, I'm iLL ..
`1.
Last edited by NoteBook..; 08-16-2008 at 01:36 AM.
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