T-Wrex aka TWrex vs SRapBlack

God Of War · 01-27-2013, 01:55 PM

posted on 4/7/01

TWrex

If SRap Black raps wack, I’ll attack before he gets to howl back
You smell foul jack, like a bowel stack; I’ll smack your jowls back
You’re nothing but a vowel hack and a consonant fraud in prime
Now stop wasting my baud times with all of your flawed rhymes
If you hear an applaud chime, I’m just trying to drown your voice
If I had a choice, I would rather be listening to some white noise
Even if you had a twin brother, you couldn't get a double you
Please don’t let this loss trouble you and not feed your ego, too
I am almost sure you're still good enough for Needle's crew
You’re about as wack as if they made "Meet The Dweedles 2"
How long have you emceed, fourteen days? You’re two week
The “cue/seek” buttons are being pressed whenever you speak
Too bleak is a good synonym for the rhymes you’re creating
You couldn't even flow if you were tamponless & menstruating
You’re hereby sentenced to a life of wackness without parole
You’ll forever be the new Chuck-E-Cheese game, “SRap-A-Mole”
I'll bash your whole legs until you need a walker like Hershel
I know this rhyme hurts you, so let's cut to a commercial....

As an emcee, do you get shit-on on a daily basis? Do you find it hard to clean off? Do you still reek like shit after a losing battle? Then reach for Scotts! Scott's Whiting Tissue will wipe it all off in a matter of seconds then you all good to go clubbing later that night.

Punk bitches like you are more com-in than dots, son
You get tossed overboard just like you were flotsam
I’m like perpetual motion, there's no use trying to stop
My verses are so ill, they've got stomachs tying in knots
Your open mics get paid less attention than limp dicks get
You couldn't roll hard with a pocket full of stale biscuits
You must write all of your lyrics on George Forman grills
Because it all lacks phatness and hard to swallow like pills
Even swinging at wet clothes you couldn't even punch lines
Your lyrics can't stand up; they must have hunched spines
Trying to battle me must be worse than facing your fears
I’ll leave you seeing more stars than Space Station Mir
More beaten, bruised and bloody than Reginald Denny
More disposable and worthless than a counterfeit penny
More confused than farmers putting horseshoes on cattle

01-27-2013, 01:55 PM	#1
God Of War The Landlord Join Date: Jan 2013 Posts: 5,822 Battle Record: 12-10 Rep Power: 10493983	T-Wrex aka TWrex vs SRapBlack posted on 4/7/01 TWrex If SRap Black raps wack, I’ll attack before he gets to howl back You smell foul jack, like a bowel stack; I’ll smack your jowls back You’re nothing but a vowel hack and a consonant fraud in prime Now stop wasting my baud times with all of your flawed rhymes If you hear an applaud chime, I’m just trying to drown your voice If I had a choice, I would rather be listening to some white noise Even if you had a twin brother, you couldn't get a double you Please don’t let this loss trouble you and not feed your ego, too I am almost sure you're still good enough for Needle's crew You’re about as wack as if they made "Meet The Dweedles 2" How long have you emceed, fourteen days? You’re two week The “cue/seek” buttons are being pressed whenever you speak Too bleak is a good synonym for the rhymes you’re creating You couldn't even flow if you were tamponless & menstruating You’re hereby sentenced to a life of wackness without parole You’ll forever be the new Chuck-E-Cheese game, “SRap-A-Mole” I'll bash your whole legs until you need a walker like Hershel I know this rhyme hurts you, so let's cut to a commercial.... As an emcee, do you get shit-on on a daily basis? Do you find it hard to clean off? Do you still reek like shit after a losing battle? Then reach for Scotts! Scott's Whiting Tissue will wipe it all off in a matter of seconds then you all good to go clubbing later that night. Punk bitches like you are more com-in than dots, son You get tossed overboard just like you were flotsam I’m like perpetual motion, there's no use trying to stop My verses are so ill, they've got stomachs tying in knots Your open mics get paid less attention than limp dicks get You couldn't roll hard with a pocket full of stale biscuits You must write all of your lyrics on George Forman grills Because it all lacks phatness and hard to swallow like pills Even swinging at wet clothes you couldn't even punch lines Your lyrics can't stand up; they must have hunched spines Trying to battle me must be worse than facing your fears I’ll leave you seeing more stars than Space Station Mir More beaten, bruised and bloody than Reginald Denny More disposable and worthless than a counterfeit penny More confused than farmers putting horseshoes on cattle