FroshKiller vs Mahatma

trap. · 01-28-2013, 05:59 PM

12-20-2001

FroshKiller:

BANG BANG, "Mahatma," looks like Frosh just shot ya
Tried to "battle" like you was "Gandhi" and look at what it got ya...

I'm known as the killer, crazed youth with a billion victims
My "balls like diamonds in Mahatma's mouth" is the only way he'll ever "spit-gems"
Causin' the controversies, catastrophes, and calamities
You wanna battle Frosh? I drop so hard I'm killin' families
Mahatma must "love the pain"--maybe he's some kind of "masochist!"
Should've known better than to battle-this since "the real Mahatma" was a "pacifist!"
"The MC Who Beat Frosh," another myth, a lie, a fable
Mahatma, don't test "dis-ability" or I'll leave you "rhyme-disabled"
MY NAME IS FROSH, rep Death by Soul, forever Philosophical Phantom [sic]
You "ridin' my dick" while it's "hard" and that's the only reason you're still "standin'"
Mahatma thinks HE'S sick because he's known for some style switches?
FROSHKILLER'S skills is on another level, "sicker" than "punchin' pregnant bitches!"
Take time writin' your verse there, Mahatma--I'll drop off the top of the shelf
Iller than thou 'cause I "play with words" versus you "playin'" with just "yourself"
The god-type rhymes, Frosh slayin' lines, formin' lyrics from blood and dregs
Battlin' a cat like you is "pointless," kinda like "breakin' a cripple's legs"
I'm HUNGRY, son, bitin' through bones and chewin' on noses and nuts
Lyrics that slice like cuts, I'll "expose your innards" so you'll "show some guts"!
I SPIT FIRE UPON YOU, bitch, FLAMES THAT CAN SCAR THE LAND
Like "Eminem's" [nuts] in your "mouth," my mic has "melted in my hand"....

Mahatma:

Fuck Killers, I father kids who freestyle iller than you when they mothers still giving birth!
Your punches don't hurt, HELL, me with gloves & you protected by thugs, couldn't keep ya breasts purt!
First I remove this emcees sight with a plight a' dirt, listen as all rappers through time laugh...
The closest you get to flowing hotness is urinating in your bed time bath!
This head, spine snaps, I define a rhyme path...
You couldn't have a phat track if you fed it on the dead cats I've attacked!
Battle raps? that shit you script is mearly junk mail with letters attatched...
The day you had 'hot' sex with Burt Bacarach, is the day you met your match!
Lungs collapsed, face removed & shoulders missing this emcee should be finished by this time...
But to be certain by the final curtain, I start 'backing' up the track with thrusts while I'm spining on his spine!
Try to view this ~ useless, with express permission you'd still miss mine, damm your pathetic...
I 'ram' 'bulls' without flexing & swollow a countries 'med'cin' with no 'anasthetic!'
You slow & I regret this, I won't bother with the next offer...
I'm hotter than ANTI-sun blocker, you a prophet with perfect cock grip!
Stop, quit!..resist the temptation to go further...
You couldn't 'spit more improper' if you were a ptyalic burguler!
I'm ahead leaps & bounds like an areo dynamic hurdler, your 'tracks' been left as waste...
I 'hit & chewed' so much ov your words up with my 'tooth uppercut' I can taste your face!

Laid to fade, Frosh gets to reflect on my time here at ******...
He sees my speed ploys, this fiends joy & double teeth joints...
I'm verbal extasy while with a mouth filled with EvErything Frosh couldn't keep E's moist!

01-28-2013, 05:59 PM	#1
trap. Senior Citizen Join Date: Aug 1997 Posts: 3,870 Battle Record: 4-3 Rep Power: 0	FroshKiller vs Mahatma 12-20-2001 FroshKiller: BANG BANG, "Mahatma," looks like Frosh just shot ya Tried to "battle" like you was "Gandhi" and look at what it got ya... I'm known as the killer, crazed youth with a billion victims My "balls like diamonds in Mahatma's mouth" is the only way he'll ever "spit-gems" Causin' the controversies, catastrophes, and calamities You wanna battle Frosh? I drop so hard I'm killin' families Mahatma must "love the pain"--maybe he's some kind of "masochist!" Should've known better than to battle-this since "the real Mahatma" was a "pacifist!" "The MC Who Beat Frosh," another myth, a lie, a fable Mahatma, don't test "dis-ability" or I'll leave you "rhyme-disabled" MY NAME IS FROSH, rep Death by Soul, forever Philosophical Phantom [sic] You "ridin' my dick" while it's "hard" and that's the only reason you're still "standin'" Mahatma thinks HE'S sick because he's known for some style switches? FROSHKILLER'S skills is on another level, "sicker" than "punchin' pregnant bitches!" Take time writin' your verse there, Mahatma--I'll drop off the top of the shelf Iller than thou 'cause I "play with words" versus you "playin'" with just "yourself" The god-type rhymes, Frosh slayin' lines, formin' lyrics from blood and dregs Battlin' a cat like you is "pointless," kinda like "breakin' a cripple's legs" I'm HUNGRY, son, bitin' through bones and chewin' on noses and nuts Lyrics that slice like cuts, I'll "expose your innards" so you'll "show some guts"! I SPIT FIRE UPON YOU, bitch, FLAMES THAT CAN SCAR THE LAND Like "Eminem's" [nuts] in your "mouth," my mic has "melted in my hand".... Mahatma: Fuck Killers, I father kids who freestyle iller than you when they mothers still giving birth! Your punches don't hurt, HELL, me with gloves & you protected by thugs, couldn't keep ya breasts purt! First I remove this emcees sight with a plight a' dirt, listen as all rappers through time laugh... The closest you get to flowing hotness is urinating in your bed time bath! This head, spine snaps, I define a rhyme path... You couldn't have a phat track if you fed it on the dead cats I've attacked! Battle raps? that shit you script is mearly junk mail with letters attatched... The day you had 'hot' sex with Burt Bacarach, is the day you met your match! Lungs collapsed, face removed & shoulders missing this emcee should be finished by this time... But to be certain by the final curtain, I start 'backing' up the track with thrusts while I'm spining on his spine! Try to view this ~ useless, with express permission you'd still miss mine, damm your pathetic... I 'ram' 'bulls' without flexing & swollow a countries 'med'cin' with no 'anasthetic!' You slow & I regret this, I won't bother with the next offer... I'm hotter than ANTI-sun blocker, you a prophet with perfect cock grip! Stop, quit!..resist the temptation to go further... You couldn't 'spit more improper' if you were a ptyalic burguler! I'm ahead leaps & bounds like an areo dynamic hurdler, your 'tracks' been left as waste... I 'hit & chewed' so much ov your words up with my 'tooth uppercut' I can taste your face! Laid to fade, Frosh gets to reflect on my time here at ******... He sees my speed ploys, this fiends joy & double teeth joints... I'm verbal extasy while with a mouth filled with EvErything Frosh couldn't keep E's moist!