Week 2... Fatal v. Da Robber
- Thread starter MrDontGIVEaFUCK
- Start date
Da Robber huh? im about to rob-ya of a victory/
quick shotz to your dome make ya sorry ass hiztory/
i come vividly sick lyke blowing-chunkz/
when i spit artillery you end up showing-gutz/
leavin flesh ripped open lyke a Christmas-prezent/
im lyke a God, you'll never be anything more than a Siccness-peasant/
you wanna move up in rank, but even Dr. Suess will rip-ya/
ill split-ya-wrizt with viscious-spitz that'll lyrically pimp-ya/
i shoot for tha big doggz, i dont know why im stuck-with-you/
but ima make short work of you, leavin you fucked-up-&-bruized/
you should juzt forfeit and leave with sum dignity/
you think you'll be rippin me, you gotta be shittin-me/
if our rankz were measured in floorz, i'd be on top of tha Sears-Tower/
you'd be in tha basement, sniffling lyke a straight bytch az your tears-shower/
you get devoured, fuckin coward, step-back/
or you're leavin with ya neck-cracked from my verbal im-pact/
you aint leavin intact, talk sum shyt and get bytch-slapped/
you "Da Robber" but we'll see who stealz wut when you fynd yourself kid-napped/
im blessed with tha status of a king, eternal-highness/
you beating me haz tha oddz of sumone accomplishing verbal-silence/
it dont make sense, therfor it cant-be-done/
grab all your gatz-and-run, or end up suffering from a collapsing-lung/
ima take thiz puto apart and murder everyone around-em/
leavin hiz remainz rank az fuck juzt lyke that puto'z weak ass upcoming album/
fuckin hangoverz.
quick shotz to your dome make ya sorry ass hiztory/
i come vividly sick lyke blowing-chunkz/
when i spit artillery you end up showing-gutz/
leavin flesh ripped open lyke a Christmas-prezent/
im lyke a God, you'll never be anything more than a Siccness-peasant/
you wanna move up in rank, but even Dr. Suess will rip-ya/
ill split-ya-wrizt with viscious-spitz that'll lyrically pimp-ya/
i shoot for tha big doggz, i dont know why im stuck-with-you/
but ima make short work of you, leavin you fucked-up-&-bruized/
you should juzt forfeit and leave with sum dignity/
you think you'll be rippin me, you gotta be shittin-me/
if our rankz were measured in floorz, i'd be on top of tha Sears-Tower/
you'd be in tha basement, sniffling lyke a straight bytch az your tears-shower/
you get devoured, fuckin coward, step-back/
or you're leavin with ya neck-cracked from my verbal im-pact/
you aint leavin intact, talk sum shyt and get bytch-slapped/
you "Da Robber" but we'll see who stealz wut when you fynd yourself kid-napped/
im blessed with tha status of a king, eternal-highness/
you beating me haz tha oddz of sumone accomplishing verbal-silence/
it dont make sense, therfor it cant-be-done/
grab all your gatz-and-run, or end up suffering from a collapsing-lung/
ima take thiz puto apart and murder everyone around-em/
leavin hiz remainz rank az fuck juzt lyke that puto'z weak ass upcoming album/
fuckin hangoverz.
