Rygar

[trap.]

Name: Rygar, Skyney, GhostHed
Crews: GHATS, Mellenianz, Rx, Inter Omnis
Where: Miami, Florida
Repped: HG, Sethros, Mentalz, RM, UPN









vs Radius

Rad switches from site to site, he insists it’s strategizing
But I think he’s a ‘gnome-ad’ like a midget advertising
Stick to following trends, you rap like you’re swallowing phlegm
You’re fucking gay…yup, that’s the message sodomy sends
This battle’s like bowling, and your team is outnumbered
I’m debating whether to spare you or leave you in gutters
It’s seemingly funner, serving-an-old-friend
You have DSL, and I’m not referring to modems
Your lips can’t be made smaller, the surgeon’s serious!
But why list “blow jobs” under previous work experience?
When I start revvin the motor, this session is over
Bitch, try beating someone with a head on his shoulders
So the parable stands, shut up or prepare to get slammed
‘You lose an awful lot’ like being outbid for terrible land
Pudgy faced loser, downing junk food without hesitation
Asking for sweets more than fancy hotel reservations
You’ve been practicing your stance, but I’m damaging your chance
You like to ‘follow the formula,’ like avid racing fans
Actually thought you won? Now your pride’s-scarred-worse
Vote = Rad in all categories…was Rygar’s verse!
You were confused, putting your name was just a trendy symbol
I’ll seal the victory, like the wrapping on an old P. Diddy single
This is under judicial review, and I have the grounds to say
I won’t just have 7 votes, I’ll have 7 counts of rape…


vs Adonis/Ajax

I’ll carve ‘bitch’ on your forehead with a tarred knife’s edge
Then I’ll amputate and beat you to death with your bald wife’s leg
Rygar buries mutherfuckers, slice the throat of any scavenger
Your girl wanted to procreate, you frowned and said ‘but baby, I’m an amateur’
Is it Ajax or Adonis? Swallow your tongue up and speak
Or maybe it’s EyeAxe, well I’m ‘NoseHatchet,’ which is just as unique
I’m under your reach, but over your head, it’s over you’re dead
You put voters to bed, yeah they stay awake…by drinking Folgers from kegs
You look like what would happen if Kurt Rambis and a mule bred
And your beats sound like rabid parakeets being released inside a toolshed
While you lack in flow and punch, you have a knack for holding nuts
Captain Ajax sold his wooden leg to see Barry Manilow unplugged
I’ve got an illness not even antidotes would touch, I hurt gays
He’s not crossing his legs, he’s a mutherfucking mermaid!!
Look where his torso meets, three more legs and he’s a centaur
Practice your Zen hard, meditation crackles when the lead sparks
As for UPBA, the heir to the throne tears from flesh to the bone
As for Ajax, bitch always sticks to your threads like the scent of cologne
Adonis jocked by girls? This topic just shocks me
Considering the only passes made at Jeremy are from Collins to Shockey


vs Phant

I should be very fucking worried, this threat is no gimmick,
I’m battling the toughest guy to ever pose next to a midget/
Pack your shit bitch, you don’t wanna face the prolific writer,
So take a running start and hop off the board like olympic divers/
The media hates your music, Phant, stop sending them checks,
When it comes to your audios, ‘the play button never gets any press’/
Plus, I’ve been deadly in verse since before it got trendy to curse,
Your rhymes are less interesting than articles on jellyfish birth/
And stop asking me for new songs, I’m tired of lending you clues,
Phant’s so Behind the Music that VH1 is threatning to sue/
Virgin, Dracula, Jay-Z, I’m gonna target these ‘facts’…
…Just to discard your entire lineup of bars for the match/
You unoriginal fuck, this beating’s a freebie,
You took golf lessons just to try and swing onto the Three T’s/
I’ll be mind-numbingly honest, you’re fucking obnoxious,
Ever since I eclipsed you on Mentalz you’ve been tugging my pockets/
And now you’ve followed me here, all shook and in denial,
Conquering Phonics must’ve meant a lot, since you couldn’t as a child/
We battled two years ago, and now my declaration states…
…That for our anniversary, Imma take you on an expiration date/


vs SOD

Pardon me soldier, but you're just a thorn in a garden of hopefuls
I'll stick your arm and your shoulder down the garbage disposal
The carnage is total, a sort of irreversible slaughter
While a surgical doctor tries to place your body back in vertical posture
Just burned an imposter, Shadow tried rapping with a lexicon
Now I'm shape shifting like square dancing in the pentagon
In the pole position, and I’m not referring to internet surveys
Synonym wordplay ends this innocent mermaid’s bid for the first aid
That’s like fifteen syllables, without compromising coherency
Crying out “Rygar, you-crossed-the-line-and-embarrassed-me!”
Well, your SODomizing was scaring me, I’m opposed to ride dicks
Shadows Of Darkness? I’ll whoop your ass during a solar eclipse
A clone of the myth, an injured fake with words that syncopate
Lines so fucking long they bill your ISP long distance rates
I’ll quickly end this fake cuz I’m invincible around mics
The letter you’ll receive is downright…umm, it’s just downright (L)
An apology would sound nice, if not I’ll serve this fool that copies
In this battle Shadow’s similar to a sand castle during a tsunami
With the fury of a Nazi, I see you rhyme with special needs
Scared I’ll ‘make a return’ like companies designing Enter keys
You fucking flame, saw you selling your body on the boulevard
I’d expose you for living in Gayland only ‘iff’ I pulled your ‘Card’
Your skull is scarred for testing, this is a nightmare of a rhyme
On this site your ‘buzz is ending’ like when Lightyear almost died


vs Native Tongue

You’re faker than saccharine, and gayer than Annorin
I’m the first American settler, burning ‘Native’s establishment’
He recycles more than I do, expect nothing less from a herb
Proof? He drives up to Michigan and gets ten cents for his verse
Should I post your old rhymes? I’m not a logical thinker
But that’s like playing Russian roulette with the chronological trigger
I wanna kill myself when I glance at your old rhymes
I’ll crush your ambitions, and make a wasteland out of your goal mines
Because my name weighs a ton, I’ll leave you slain for fun
I’ll shit on your language, and fucking pierce your native tongue
How Nate has fun? He registers a new alias and folks-laugh-at-it
And by the end of its first day, it’s got a (398.00) post-average
My flow’s adamant, you won’t win now that your mask is withered
Your thinking cap would be a tight squeeze on an action figure
I’d help you repair your dated style if I had patience
Gun talk? You can’t even ‘pump shells’ at the gas station
I wrote an ode to your wife, yet she found the abode of my knife
Silly hooker kept staring at me, so I sowed up her eyes
Tossed her in a dumpster, don’t worry you still have ownership rights
Before he has sex with a girl, Native puts on a cloaking device
Twenty seconds later they’re done, his eyes wide and battered
Jumps out of bed, and rocks the t-shirt reading ‘size doesn’t matter’
You see, he has a size misfortune, so his advice-is-horseshit
Damn, with a dick that small, he should’ve died an orphan
But I’m here to clean up the blotch that the Reaper forgot
I’m king of the hill, Native’s the queen of the block
You’re number 1 and I’m 2? Don’t start approaching the throne
For it to be truthful, place the numbers around like a rotary phone
Your stories are known to be false, I don’t see your scars
You’ll ‘get stuck in the head’ like videos in faulty VCR’s
And when I win, emit emotion, cry til you fill an ocean
Cuz you live in the past, and my present is your eviction notice