[trap.]

12-28-2001

$cript$ spit...

STYLE TYPE- Fillers and Punches

yo
yo
yo,

ayo when $cript$ spits he spits heavenly at every emcee to prove nobodys better than me/
when this battles over im gon be on 'the winning end' like the letter 'g'/
you better believe that i throw stones at churches jus so i can rock some bells/
i heard ya smoke 'weed' now Ty, so thank me now for givin you an 'L'/
im hotter than hell, murdered Tyson after he gave me his best shot/
his ego, left 'empty' like 'chinese pet shops'/
you a threat!? stop, cuz i frequently spit hits and rip shit/
treat Ty's brain like 'wrong sized clothes' until he starts to have 'misfits'/
my sick scripts leave hips split, ill leave this kid still claimin he smokin inside of his coffin/
id buy ya album, but ya 'tapes weak' like 'old posters on closets'/
claim victories often, send dogs after ya jus so i can hear teen moans/
askin me for money on a plant is the only way i'd ever 'leave' you 'a loan'/
ill bruise all ya bones, chop ya organs, and start to sell em in two's/
its crazy cuz everybody on ***** think 'scraps' was better than 'you'!/
you the first diligent timid bitch that gets horny off of stimulants/
no way you can type ya wack writtens when ya got torn hand ligaments!/
Ty, ya necks slashed, tha check's cashed before i write it,if u wanna explore a tight spit , u best ignore tha mic kid!!/
get u to end yah life-quik with tight-spits, then have u with a sliced-wrist, its priceless cause yah mind-gets mangled and yah spine-splits!/
handed a device quik to leave yah heart in slices, normaly hurts but only diffrence, u like-it, im hyped-wit a spiked dick that even leaves dykes whipped!/
my raps? i know u like it, im ill enough to hit cops wit six shots/
i put money on it you'll be 14 around this time next year still wantin to get props!/
nobody better get near this young hestant queer/
you can save 1000 animals and still couldnt be 'vet' of the year!/
i sell what is near, rap style jurassic, im known t clap this bastid,similar to plastic cuz Ty smells fake/
battlin me's like 'rydin retired Denver quarterbacks' you goin the 'L-way(John Elway)'/.........



Tyson spit...

[----S----T----R----E----T----C----H----E----D----]

Stop biting.. start learnin knowledge, fag, come out of ya burnin closet/
but keep Nastradaumus in there holdin ya LP... and try to urn a prophet/
concerned with college...? ya styles still elementary.. you got a lot to replace/
bring out the shotty an aim... quick to let it spit and make a collage of ya face/
bitin fag against tyson's wrath.... you admitted, a bunch of someone elses raps an fillers/
if you scared now.. you'll get butterflies in ya stomach, when I lace T~R~E's verses with catepillars/
before 'tie' make you 'dye' like hippy shirts.. this kid go sell tombs/
you ain't real.. styles about as 'sweet' as rich hotel rooms/ (suite)
you tryna get personal to beat me? got you jealous of SezsioN/
$cript$'ll meat defeat like runnin with no shoes in a delicatessan/
tryna step into these big shoes.. see you an ya bro in $cript$ tombs/
its sickness when i spit it.. like my saliva was planes.. I spit flews/ (flus)
biting... ya chipped tooth get misused.. supposed to swallow food/
I'll leave ScriptS buried in a raining mountain.. take his organs, hes a hollow dew'ed/ (dude)
finish you.. Ty's up like tennis shoes.. steal THOR's raps get hit in the head with a rod/
beatin this dude like jesus' food.. you know im bred from a god/
Lyrical Jesus, tearin ya mirror ta pieces so you can't beat ya self/
gaurantee it, I die-men without jewelry.. grab ya adidas.. you gonna need the shells/
play bruce and die-hard... $cript$ obese.. like big breaths.. he's rockin sighs large/
with the game, im at the peek, like hidden cameras and spys are/
say your ill on april first.. make a verse like the beach, gaurantee you see-shells/
you was signin forms of shippin and handilin..last time you 'dated a fee-mail'/

only 22 lines... whatever... g'luck.. first to 5.