[2tripple0]

Gonna rip this thread out of the archives
This like a newspaper call it the new York times
And I'm running low on gas and I ain't got nothing to pump
Might as well start a shrimp business like Forrest Gump
I'm in the backwoods like the blunts you like to smoke
You lightyears behind like buzz from toy story but still can't take a joke
I've gotta a sore throat and I'm losing my voice
If you had any power to abuse still wouldn't flip shit like a coin
Gotta rearrange my lines so you can understand them
And I'm no lumberjack but keep you at bay like i was made of hemp
It's strange no one pays attention to the lines in this thread
and I'm giving you the gift of sight if you blind but like a football team one yard and you'd Jet
I've got concepts and tons of ability to excell with this language
So just like a university the students in my class all about to graduate
Gotta continue to flourish but I keep going backwards
And even though I enjoy flowing I'm stuck in the wrong pasture
And like some commercials I'm fastforwarding to the action
But like the rolling stones I can't get no satisfaction
Call me an Indian way im sending signals in the sky with smoke
Even if I'm late to arrive still dark as night and like a boat on the water my lines like to float
Gotta hang up my coat and think about my approach
Cause just like a joint I smoke it down to the Roach
Gotta continue learning how to write down my lines
And even the current in the ocean is controlled by a tide
And I'm breaking shit down and filling emcees with doubt
Cause I'm like capisce? Since you wanted a Duke but end up with a count
Im flipping some lines but ya boy spit so many bricks I had to build a new house
And just like some chocolate milk you ain't quick and constantly follow the crowd
I'm surrounded by losers but none of them fit for my crown
In the end I'm killing y'all like a suspense thriller
And you ain't no ninja but still get dropped like you was Ben stiller
I'm trying to make some sort of impression in this cypher thread
But call you a confession since you something that needs to be blessed
But I might be paraplegic way I'm breaking ya legs
And swear you be blazing but always sitting on the bench
Only thing you been hitting is the bottom way ya suck at text
Keep ya rhymes tight but can't make any observations
Only way you on top is when people treat you like an alienation
And I'm not trying to make fun of you
But you like the sky way ya face full of blue
I'm going to give you a hint as if you bad a clue
You ain't getting no Grant even if ya first-name was Hugh
Gonna stick you like some glue and ya so fake I question ya existence
Cause I'm just taking a guess and still surrounding you like some barbwire fence
Gotta fill you in like a lense since my nuggets stay dense
And just like a toolbag you get twisted like some bolts with a wrench