BladeRunner

[trap.]

Name: Bladerunner, Harbour
Crews: Mellenianz
Where: Halifax, Canada
Repped: HG, Sethros, Mentalz




vs SinTacks

Sin first getting laid's involving two cocks getting swollen/
Wondering "is this true love?", as the pain shot through his colon/
This fag knocks up wood like bowling, throwing his balls in boyfriend's gutters/
Fucked so violently last time that now his rhymes are voiced in stutters/
He gets slashed like moistened butter with choice box cutters, this geeks squirming/
Trying to act all hard but looks and sounds like Pee Wee Herman/
Eating sperm an breaking sermons, left him sprayed then he fell smoothly/
He got paid to do Screech's voiceovers in Saved By the Bell: The Movie/
You faggot floozy, made me moody, died once those words escaped ur mouth/
I'm betting ur that little bitch who got raped in ur post!/
Choked out with man paste in ur throat, to more then most it seems I'm phatter/
Making audio's with that high pitched voice makes ur comp's screen just shatter/
U left flattered now that ur battered?, fuck chatter, ur smacked and dropped/
Dumb fag's saying he's Hispanic just becuz he's half a Wop/
This has to stop, it's time u know I'm not afraid to pull a hoe/
Bitch ur flow is like a flute, that's high pitched and fulla holes/
Breaking ur nose with body blows, the force echo's and foes get lifted/
My punches 'forced', naw bitch u mixed up, 'force' be only what they hit with/
Ur simplistic, too optimistic, I opt to rip shit then sock a queer/
And leave u flying through the air worse then a drunken Rocketeer/
I drop a steer when I 'strike beef', ur far beneath and wallow with fakes/
And u 'suck so hard' on the mic ur dumb ass swallowed it by mistake/


vs JLC

JLC, now this is battle, so theres no respect or love Ioss/
You’re not as good as I am so i pose a threat like mug shots/
High pressure blows ur blood clots, tore ur arms an then ur stumps off/
Reminding me of Wu-tang, did ur wackass fall or jump off?/
See I split the air like gun shots, while spit with flair, u come soft/
Tho life can be a good time’, my death grip is where your fun’ stops/
Like a flooded river you run off, Runningblades will smack an spray ya/
While u be playing possum, i be playing tractor trailer/
Have ta say ya overrated, u a menace with ya bland flows?/
I could make better music playing tennis with a banjo/
Bring ya friends an all ya ammo, 111 blast back quick defeating em/
Wasted the beat i gave ya on a laugh track with Comedian/
Can’t save J, I’m deleting him with the tighter performance/
The chance I’ll win is higher than a buIlfighter’s insurance/
So Imma pop ur Pops, maim your mom an strike ya sister/
Ur annoying more than cats who got bad breath and like to whisper/
Radio waves ignite transistors, me losing is impossible Iore/
Imma take your blood cells on a tour of the hospital floor/
Fans of yours are lockin they doors, these punches are swelling your frame/
JLC, ur SO damn stupid, you have trouble spelling your name/
U being alive is a hell of a shame, I’ll chop ya up an skew ya bits/
Lined the crosshairs of my rifle right up with your crucifix/
Blade left ya bruised an ripped, framed ya, jails now your doomed fate/
Gave Cupid 50 bucks and then told him ta shoot ya roommate/
If you know what I’m saying,, and i bet you thought your wrecking it/
Filling in ya played ideas with the new pop culture references/
Been scalding ever since my birth, the words are cutting sound/
Hitcha with an uppercut, ur heads backwards and upside down/
Never got the moral issues cuz i cancelled my subscription/
Battle me too much and dood, u’ll catch a smelling salt addiction/
Pain infliction through my diction, the bomb spitting is nukeing ya hoping/
I ‘get in the picture and scare ya’, you can say I’m super-imposing/
Got a team of troopers ta close in, ull get blast by my freestyles/
Shoulda known i spit more illness than the black guy from Green Mile/
Youre getting reamed now child, getting wasted, getting toasted/
Cuz you’re a fruit who ‘sleeps with more pricks’ than a bed of roses/
Next to me your never noticed, I rhyme, DJs gotta brace beats/
Ebb and Concepts voting each other so that they don’t have to face me/
Ya best attacks just grazed me, an easy ride like cruise control/
You can call me Runningblades or u can call me Rudge with flow/


vs Cynozure

My business-like brigade is more than sure to bless and bleed kids/
Like whiz-kids at arcades, only a quarter efforts needed,,,,/
To advance past ur chance-less ass, wreck up tha final four/
Cynozure’s the kinda whore some guys give up vagina for/
Left ya flat with spinal floored from rhymes of war, preparing to die/
Heard that u got gonorrhea, burnt the crust of American Pie/
Cant afford to stare in my eye or snare a reply from an honest-type person/
Prime time to be preparing to dies when my bombings dispersing/
And I’m enforcin ur burning urge, ur trippin off the leaf/
Meet me and my punches, ull be shittin teeth for weeks/
Squashed ur face in cheek to cheek, get ya friends ta send ya cloven/
‘Kick Ass rhymes written on sidewalks, gotta read em ‘bending over’/
With a volley of gems lIl stone ya an knock out ya new fellas/
C’s fucked in so many ways the Karma Sutra got jealous/
Treating ya like an umbrella, ‘put away’ when this ‘son’ is shining/
Like digital clocks in power surges, I’ll be sure to stun ur timing/
i’m unknown and undefined an underlined with bombing scripts/
Fighting backs dumb like metal shoes worn on a glass bottom ship/
Tho somewhere ‘over ur head’ is where my shit lingers, absurd/
U could buss my rhymes in sign language an not finger the words/
Twisted rifts spinning ya herbs, see a million dizzy rap fans/
Ur creepy like pedophile Santa’s who be fiending for a lap dance/
Lost hope, here’s ur last chance or Ill leave ya with a broken skull/
Cause trouble more than Pope John Paul found with a Mary blow up doll/
Chopped off ya arms so overalls is no longer wearable, Ill beat cha/
Drop ya in an open field with like 50 starving cheetahs/
Enough interference for you winning means a heavily tainted brawl/
U ‘don’t know what ur up against’ like leaning on freshly painted walls/


vs Defi/Trunks (2 Rounds)

Here, wear this black suit, get dressed for later in the hearse-
I’ll take away your breath like respirators in reverse-
_It’s my heyday, my combustion means a melee for most functions-
Now your personal computer is a Gateway to destruction-
_Cuz you’re nothing, I’d retire, say to hell with flowing, abort!_-
your blood pressure gets any higher your red cells will go into warp-
For you Internet is life, for me this is recreation_-
Now’s the time you’re put away like you were Christmas Decorations-
_coming from the Harbour, shit blows up like Navy air bombs_-
The only time you’ll ever go gold’s when you dye your faggy hair blond
I’m the rhyming fisherman, it’s my goal to hook an kill_-
You couldn’t come sweet off the top if you rolled down sugar hill_-
Ya see, my kinetic flows can make the middle of your pants warm-
_Pissing yourself, foes eyes get wide in the middle of a sand storm-
_I’ll fiddle out the anthem, it’s a death march to the afterlife-
With wrath and strife I slash the knife at cats who think they half as nice-
You’re pulled beneath in disbelief, then stomped with rusted stilts-
And then you’re gutted slowly with my blade that’s custom built-
Changing forms like currency, I’m without a slight doubt fearsome-
A blind man with no steering, rings your neck just like throat piercing-
Taking blind shots at Harbour like a game of BattleShip-
Could be called a huge mistake, ur getting maimed and badly ripped-
_Knocking out your patsy shit. why’d you try to stand to me?-
Think my illness goes un-noticed like centipedes that amputees?-
_I don’t think so. fact I know so, squash you like a dinosaur-
Slam you to the vinyl floor and then remove your spinal cord-
Yeah i slam the doors of Trunks, lock the lids and eat the key-
I’ll tie up your legs and chop the shit beneath your knees-
Now way you’re unique like me, I’m the crazy king who lacerates-
_Kids like starving tiger sharks do lonely floating castaways-
The acid spray I give off burns a hole into your star ship-
Watch the pressure make your head pop, right after ur legs and arms rip-
Broken hearted token artist, you’re above the art of battling-
Pulled you back under the earth after ur armor started shattering-


My sub-atomic weapons crinkle dreams of adolescence_-
Hate to break it to ya Defi, simple schemes are unimpressive_-
And the coke and doper reference, read any battles as of lately?_-
Your materials so played, did you time travel from the eighty’s?-_
Hid in Bill and Teddy’s phone booth?, in the trunk of the Delorian?-
_Got the crazy Hammer pants and neon sweat shirt on, adoring em-
Your rhyme was boring man, it was dumb to try an fence with me_-
The disks up in your back will get slipped out like my identity-
Stupid Rygar, any ways, under the current circumstances-
_If I used my real name, duke that would only hurt your chances-
_Cuz ur getting burned and branded, you wack kids are all the same-
Trying to cross Harbour, hooked you to a ball and chain-
Now you got that sinking feeling cuz your lungs are filling up-
A violent shark attack has left ya stunned and spilling blood-
And when it ends I’m still in front, running blades through your esophagus-
Exiting to heaven is the way you leave on top of this-T
That’s how your over me, I’ll put a car bomb in your ghost hearse-
_Dont be blaming me cuz you were dumb enough to post first-
Now you’re badly bruised and battered, don’t forget the mean abrasions_-
ruining kids to arsonists, they read my shit and leave their Blazins_-
So much fun to beat your face in, just like smashing an alarm clock-
You’Il have to use your head though, cuz I’m slashing both your arms off_-
And now allthe sleepers fall, they’re like cattle when we tippin_-
Honestly, Trunks couldn’t come off if we battled skinny dipping

[trap.]

vs Diode

I attack with piercing visions that avert your torn up glance/
Can’t even run away, I tear off legs like warm up pants/
Short circuit Diode’s purpose, ur as hard as floral sheets/
Body’s thrown into the water, disappears like coral reefs/
It’s more than beef, cheap hot dog style, call it combination hating/
Ya can’t keep up with me. you’re falling off the pace an fading/
Srabbed the sharpest razor blade an played an artist in the makin/
painted murder scenes in blood, ur slain regardless of the praying/
I‘II twist off your top. it’s a bottleneck effect/
rime to walk on broken glass, you’ll have to hobble off the set/
Shouldn’t squabble with a vet, Harbour’s mental schemes impress ya/
Ya need to come to grips like arguments between two wrestlers/
See I’ve switched it up, now like my punches sorta subtle/
Rhyme traveled from the future, back to stun your forced rebuttal/
You’re killed an as a bonus, sliced with whips in minimal time/
You’re skills all go un-noticed like this fifteen syllable rhyme/
I’ll make you swallow fire after drinking liquid C-4/
Feed ya fifty pounds of lead and send ya sinking to the sea floor/
I think you need to bleed more, dirty raps tossed in the sink/
It's dumb to fuck with me like you were slap boxing a pimp/
I add toxins to drinks and wwatch opponent's brains explode/
Sever all their flesh and as a bonus stain they clothes/
Nameless foes fed famous flows, Diode, who the fuck are you?/
If true skills equal wealth then you could use a buck or two/
Cutting through your sucker crew, you're stunned dood, count the fingas/
Battle stories high on myth like the crest of Mount Olympus/