Just stepping out.
Apologies for last post, which was somewhat out of character. This is a coffee break of sorts, and I don't have anything useful to say.
Except one thing. It's time for the sonofhealfdane Rap Battle of 2005. Comment on this post with your smooth rhymin' skills. Use them to insult me or the previous commenter, in fun of course.
Spin it...
Except one thing. It's time for the sonofhealfdane Rap Battle of 2005. Comment on this post with your smooth rhymin' skills. Use them to insult me or the previous commenter, in fun of course.
Spin it...
Comments 26
last name hagen
and hes about to fall apart
cose he been ,misbehaven
that rude motherfucker
thinks he got mad skills
but his mom needed a rubber
cuz hes makin' me ill.
yo'
peez
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Dat all you got?
Yo' rhymin' ain't the shizzle
Though yo' mama's mad hot.
Son, step off, you're bein' real bad
That's no way to speak, son
To yo' dearest dear old dad--
yo' mama and I been gettin' our freak on:
Smickitty smizzackitty, son you been had.
Besides, yo' rhymin's a little bit whack
Stick to makin' bondage gear
Fo' which you've a mad knack
Cause yo' rhymes create as much fear
As a teddy bear attack!
Smack to da face, sneer and spit!
My style by bitchin,
With cleverness and wit.
Fo rizzle, I'm itchin
To make yo' ass submit!
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ya little toy clown
yo mom and dads first date
was commin' home from the pound.
hell-
the wedding band was a leash that yours truly made
just like claudia made you her fuckin' slave
and dats a pitty too,
cuz shees taller than you
oh i gotta ask,
whered you pick up the limp?
looks like a brother made you his brit gimp.
enough with ass-jokes
im to old for that shit,
i got one more line to lay
and then i gotta get lit
now my gears the mad shit
but yo alrdy said that
but respect all my skillz
cuz im a hip-hoppin cat
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You know who you dissin'?
Marks got all fly honies
Playin' it up in ol' Britannia
Where they's payin' him the monies
Cuz the bitches want him bad
Throwin' down tree hundred fiddy
But he don't need they money
Cuz he fuck em' outta pity
Yo spendin' yo life in da woods gettin' blazed
While Markie's rhymes be cuttin' yo down thru da haze
Sippin' on some cognac, he's yo fly mack daddy
When yo bouncin' up and down on da back of some caddy
But don't think this action you be gettins very good
Cuz the caddylak that you're on back is just a fatty with yo' wood
You think you got the skills? Boy, don't insult the werd
Cuz yo shit is fuckin' lame ass join your mama in the herd
Oh that's right I am implying that yo' mama is a cow
Sittin' on her lazy ass titty feedin' even now
As yo curl up on her flabby lap to suck her like a pig
Just remember you got owned, I'm the master now, you dig?
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I need all you suckaz to get on yo' knees
I'm arrestin' you foolz and haulin' you in
Yo' rappin' ain't just a crime, it's a sin
In tha eyes of God, you be misbehavin'
Like when I boned yo' mom wit her pussy shaven
Yo' rhymes be evil, sent from below
They be old and stale, they got no flow
I'm a baptize you foolz in my own name
Father Cribz, tha masta of tha rappin' game
Son of a pimp, hear my verse and fear it
I filled yo' mama up wit my rhymin' spirit
Amen on tha ass!
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I took him in when he went on parole.
First I taught him to rap, now he's on patrol,
Tryin' to save you sinners from the bowels of Sheol.
You better watch out for his fine homiletic;
His rhymes are poetic, a salvific aesthetic,
His vision prophetic, his drive energetic,
And his command of the style drives y'all apoplectic.
He's spreadin' my Word, the Gospel of Rap;
His mission takes him all over the map.
Sit in yo' pew, with yo' hands in yo' lap,
Listen politely and stop flappin' yo' yap.
His sermon message rises and surges:
Transcend all yo' urges lest you face spiteful scourges.
And when the Truth finally emerges,
Then he will bless you with sacred asperges.
They's no doubt you'll learn a lot from this saint.
Know this fo' shizzle: You is o' you ain't
Gonna be saved by his fine oratorical,
That's why I call him my Prodigal Oracale.
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You will burn for your blasphemous outrages
I will make you pay straight from the pages
The bible knows jesus can't save you now
Cuz jesus can't rap, you foolish sow
Jolly jam masta o' not
I will take you by your feet to my plot
Dig a hole and bury you in
Your screamin soul trapped in my bin
Next time think before you spread the sin
Blackness will come and smother your grin
Until i am finished you will be my slave
Tubgirl has come to fill your grave
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no way.
add me
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The girl who gives a nasty bite!
On yo' neck like Vlad the Drac
There's no escapin' her attack!
In Jones' ride I'm rockin' out
Rollin' spliffs, talkin' 'bout
Who god isn't, where and why
While you thinkin' "Who dis guy
who be stoned off his very ass
cause he just got out of class
now he's blazed and I am frightened
guess I best bare my lips and bite him!"
That isn't quite how it went down
(We hit the beach, then you left town
And when I got home, woe is poor
Mark, too baked to open tha door!)
In any case, good times was had
And now, dawg, you request I add
You to mah LJ list, I'll act
But I beg you, leave mah neck intact!
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And furthermore, brotha, yo' rhymin' is tight
You speakin' the truth, employin' your might
Reminiscent of '8 Mile' and 'Rapper's Delight.'
The only real error that you committed
(Which makes you boring and slow-witted):
In tha last word, you went a bit far
Having included an extraneous 'r'.
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This concludes the prose section of MY rap.
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and so forth, on this day it was decided, that kurtz shall win. Always being the mighty eternal Jew, although rolly polly and lacking of a steriotype, shall live to conquor this any many other rap battle boards forever and ever, amen.
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I actually just found out I was african-american, so I blame that. Yes, it's true. My great grandfather, the Jewish socialist merchantalist, was from South Africa.
So piece out a ping pong tiddly of the most blazzting down the drain in the spare tire nuclear sub, me nigzz.
-dK
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