English battle - wer traut sich?

ich probier mal engl. zu schreiben

all of you faggots can't rap/
so i take my bullets and shot out my mag'/
mac 10 my weapon and yours is a small stick/
i kick bitches like you and let them suck my dick/
till i shot a load of cum in you face/
look at me bitch its a very good taste/
and when i finish i kill you an punish you/
 
fuya
I'm a take the stick and crunch your little pistols/
I punch you off the show like sanders did with klitschko/
 
one on each cheek, with my Pimp-o-slap/

you can't reach me, cuz I'm leavin due to your reek and your pimple knob/
I'm simply rough, too tough for you dogg, if we was boobs you needed push ups/
stop beating rround the bush and do what you gots to, no matter what dude/
your mum will always love you,you can breathe a sigh of relief and be eased/
she told me that while I ****ed her between both of her cheeks/

(haha sorry dawg, nothing gainst your mama)
 
she told me that while I ****ed her between both of her cheeks/

Like a Freak, u be tryin to stay alive for weeks, but I dont think rookies like you belong in this league/
while you increased ya posts numerically, your lyrical quality decreased fast with consistency/
all you had left was a cheap “I F’d your mom” line, something kids would say when they are nine/
my skillz are multiple, I come three dimensional, never predictable ‘n for the ladiez irresistible/
man, you aint rough nor tough, not even Puff enough to handle Bad Boys stuff/
I’ll put u in handcuffs, sent behinds bars, in the pen u got enuff men to play rough ’n tough/



(How ya like me now?!)
 
I’ll put u in handcuffs, sent behinds bars, in the pen u got enuff men to play rough ’n tough/

**** that and put cha hands up, cover you up with a 45 glock never stop to dropp hot buddy/
youre soft like a poptop, just like JA was, first you cum hard, then u rhyme bout ladyluv and puffy/
keep it hush nog, you cum up like your a rockstar, I get above ya, clutch ya, disrupt ya, bust ya/
haha, so you think you're a cop huh? "sent behind bars" sorry dawg I gotta laugh, stop arsin round/
I chop you down for a lark, I drop sick from the start, take your chest and ripp out your heart/
 
I chop you down for a lark, I drop sick from the start, take your chest and ripp out your heart/

Your cheap senseless rhymes bore me, I’d rather watch a movie on Martial Art than to take part/
Do me a Favor and rip out my heart quickly, dont wanna suffer reading your posts weekly/
or I’ll die out of boredom, no competition, bad composition, never wanna be in your position/
......
man your lyrics are so senseless, makes me not wanna flow!!
I'll check back in here later, hopefully I'll see something more productive!!!
 
whatever you mean dawg.
post sumthing or open a new room I'll reply.
 
this thread is phat.
If you start 'nother battle in english, I'ma join 2.
Day-Day, your first rhyme was cool

h.a.n.d.
 
I go by the name of All D-A-Y, style is sweeter than caned sugar purified/
you in deeper trouble than you realized/
I aint wise but a whizzkid, bring energy when I spit shit/
eat biscuits before I split u in two, never forefit when I'm in conflict/
you pollute da mic when u strike it, breath stinkin cat/
smellin like shit commin outta yo ass crack/
get off mah back, you aint phat/
this is Major League and I beat you with my baseball bat, givin you a hard bitch smack/
while I flow Solo, my volume goes crescendo/
makin niggaz feel so low, even if they pro, you won't hear'em though/
this guy thinks he can compete with me yo!/
no way, I'll surprise u with my attacks while you still in yo PJ's/
I smoke dudes like I do my zig-zaggin blunts everyday/
so u better pray before u enter a battle with All Day/

WHATT!!!
 
Yo

I'm tight, I rhyme like my mind's a nine /
bitch - rise and shine, like "the ring" u'll see my sign while dyin' /
spittin' like an AK-Fourty-Seven, you probably ain't old - eleven? /
outsmart you with nice tricks, the tight shit - so did Kevin //
alone in da house, cuz they all got cut out /
you wack - my noise is too loud ? Damn bitch, c'mon, get boo'ed out /
I even burn you when I look in ya face, without doin' a thing /
ruin you 'n win, now c'mon, my friend, give up - who is da king? //

a short one but i'm runnin outta time ...

peez2all
 
your rhymes are Wal-Mart quality, you Tyson and I'm E.Holyfield/
knocked out, beat ya down in each round, now takin ova yo crown/
you burn me first, i burn you 3rd degree/
you were still suckin nipples, when I spit my first rhyme at the of 3/
now i'm burnin MCs with ease on paper or witha M-I-C/
want Beef? aight I'll use it as a lyrical Stress relief/
to get rid of you, so I can live 'n Peace/
like Adam 'n Eve did before deceit and greed came to mislead/
just a short brief taste, of what you gettin into/
you're just a lyrical waste, after a few rounds I be thru with you/
 
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