[trap.]

01-02-2002

Knowls Verse

My narratives curse each phrase a terrorist surge, raised to wreck shit like an Arabic birth/
Like spell check I’m known to drop an errorless verse, check the ballistics, you really think I’m scared of this nerd/
As an infant I was leaving baby carriages served, so you know this similac breath rapper’s corpse’ll perish in dirt/
Niggas bite my style and inherit the germs, bacterial infections in the air with the birds, in the race for the Nobel Prize for wakness Ballistic is preparing for first/
Wak cats like you aren’t labled for ya bar count, Knowledge leave you rapped in metal like a night but I ain’t talking bout when the stars out/
I’m making emcees vacate like house fires so don’t get charred down, I slice vocals leaving cats with scarred sounds/
Never catch Knowl wit his guard down, I'm snatchin verses, grab ya key like when car alarm sounds/
400+ posts, you think you up to par now??? Chill wit that, I’m off the rack like clearance mark downs/
I’m pinnin B at the gates, like tossing cows at ya portrait sending beef at ya face, like leaves in autumn you betta believe that’s ya place/
At ease cat, my diseased raps create, “Butterflies”, like Jackson’s, with a bleached blackened face/



Ballistic's Verse

I take my battle sword to your shins and cause devastating pain like a voodoo doll with a million pins// the pain contorts you brain as you go insane ~ explanation for you whack spits ~ verbal status you be plain//
Counter attack ~ clear miss, verbal entries i dissmiss as i reminiss on my verbal bliss// It seems my skills out number you a billion times/ Because within my rhyms are ancient egyption signs ~ a language to the gods to banish you to the confines ~ to the whackness cell where the newbie's are kept, your stylez be slept as the battlin community dont accept/ the style you portray, whack rhyms be your game/ your claim to fame be the buttrape of those rated lame//

I'm one track minded i rate the destruction/ my battle against you is clear abduction/ i take to you like a train to a train track/ roll over you and listen to you bones crack// The shatterin of your skull is the beat that i rap to/ my hypnotic rhymes are the elements that trapt you/ that'd haf to be your bigest mistake, or would that be thinkin it was me you could rape// As my lines are taken shape ~ I see you gettin scared, pre-paired you should be your battle notes shall be taired/ But in order to be fair i'll let you in on a secret/ If you hack my thread - my presence will be deleted// It's the only way you can possibly defeat me/ otherwise your lines be headed for catastrophy// but sym-path-ee often gets-to-me/ maybe ill only be-head you ver-ball-ee/ it all depends on your final plea//
Cry and i'll Laugh/ Beg and i'll kick/ blood bath in public as i beat you with my battle stick// But that aint all if you think im gettin sick/ I'll steal your childred and teach them the no hands trick//

Your punches miss like an amputee boxer/ now i realize what the saying meens "there's no harm in trying"// I ~verbally bash you ~and ~leave you lying~/ Like ~Human trash you~ slowly dying~// I write on your chest to tell the rest/ your raps are sour like a dash of lemon zest//

*NOTE* "no hands trick comes from a joke"
a grandpa puts his grandson on his lap and says - check this trick out "you feel my finger up your bum" kid says "yeah"
grandpa says "look no hands" - I KNOW ITS DIRTY