Epidemic vs Wizerd

trap. · 01-28-2013, 12:44 AM

12-29-2001

Epidemic spit-------------
U sure u want shortened beef? Wiz gets beat like deformed whores that wheeze on Bob Doles penis--he's slow to get up/
Wiz'd rather have a "Sir come Size" ya sorcery--ya faggot magic dont measure up/
i step and snuff like im Billy Blank's stunt advisor/murder 2/3's of this budding frog prince and show hes none the wieser/(yze'er)*
death is permente'---my pen is Kieser to this played aposole/
As of late this gays styles been more dug-out then a third grader's nostrils/
i burn haters hot flows and most shoulder blades rotery/
Wiz punches stay "wak and off target"---like hitmen that masterbate compulsivly/
supposidly...text'll lead u to a ripped fate--so i guess ill help u mend time/
ya rhyme scheme remind me of football--u only scorin at the end line/an effortless writ?--fine/
cuz like guerilla lyrics ya attacks are non based/
ill snatch the wrong sides of ya jaw blades, pull the opposite ways, and ask "why the long face?"/
Wiz just bitch and whine like female dogs in genetic heat thermostats/
Yze leave?--all of ya clowns is weak like aneamic cirrcus acts/

**(budwieser commercial wit the three frogs)

WIzerd spit------------
Toy with me? You still a boy it seems…
I thought we was dawgs? Not with your loyalty//
In bars it’s shots taken that’s makin ya ruthless…
You just youth…
New to the pen and ya “pew-BIC’s”//
It’s the truth…
Move my two shits back up my ass, I couldn’t give em…
And stick my LP in ya clit to ‘put out’ rhythm//
Envision this in your Christmas list…
Mr. Grinch steals ya “presence”, ya never were a gifted kid//
You weak…
An iris from my wrist got you “pistol” whipped…
And peace…
To ya raped wife, kids, and shifted ribs//
Lift this bitch…
Where it can tear more…
Just like islamic planes in american airports//
You just a hair short, like nervous times with power pro gel…
Cause I got ya regrettin ya words more than Howard Cosell//
Why you gotta give me shit? I don’t need this…
Make this into a Disney flick, on the cover’ll be my penis// like the little mermaid lol
Remus, and Romulous, “Roamin” the populace…
Lyrical Jesus? I added a cross to my shoppin list//

:::::::::::::::::closer:::::::::::::::::

I’d sever patterns of nuclei to create a bomb intense writ…
But Epidemic never mattered, minus atoms he’s nonexistent//

01-28-2013, 12:44 AM	#1
trap. Senior Citizen Join Date: Aug 1997 Posts: 3,870 Battle Record: 4-3 Rep Power: 0	Epidemic vs Wizerd 12-29-2001 Epidemic spit------------- U sure u want shortened beef? Wiz gets beat like deformed whores that wheeze on Bob Doles penis--he's slow to get up/ Wiz'd rather have a "Sir come Size" ya sorcery--ya faggot magic dont measure up/ i step and snuff like im Billy Blank's stunt advisor/murder 2/3's of this budding frog prince and show hes none the wieser/(yze'er)* death is permente'---my pen is Kieser to this played aposole/ As of late this gays styles been more dug-out then a third grader's nostrils/ i burn haters hot flows and most shoulder blades rotery/ Wiz punches stay "wak and off target"---like hitmen that masterbate compulsivly/ supposidly...text'll lead u to a ripped fate--so i guess ill help u mend time/ ya rhyme scheme remind me of football--u only scorin at the end line/an effortless writ?--fine/ cuz like guerilla lyrics ya attacks are non based/ ill snatch the wrong sides of ya jaw blades, pull the opposite ways, and ask "why the long face?"/ Wiz just bitch and whine like female dogs in genetic heat thermostats/ Yze leave?--all of ya clowns is weak like aneamic cirrcus acts/ **(budwieser commercial wit the three frogs) WIzerd spit------------ Toy with me? You still a boy it seems… I thought we was dawgs? Not with your loyalty// In bars it’s shots taken that’s makin ya ruthless… You just youth… New to the pen and ya “pew-BIC’s”// It’s the truth… Move my two shits back up my ass, I couldn’t give em… And stick my LP in ya clit to ‘put out’ rhythm// Envision this in your Christmas list… Mr. Grinch steals ya “presence”, ya never were a gifted kid// You weak… An iris from my wrist got you “pistol” whipped… And peace… To ya raped wife, kids, and shifted ribs// Lift this bitch… Where it can tear more… Just like islamic planes in american airports// You just a hair short, like nervous times with power pro gel… Cause I got ya regrettin ya words more than Howard Cosell// Why you gotta give me shit? I don’t need this… Make this into a Disney flick, on the cover’ll be my penis// like the little mermaid lol Remus, and Romulous, “Roamin” the populace… Lyrical Jesus? I added a cross to my shoppin list// :::::::::::::::::closer::::::::::::::::: I’d sever patterns of nuclei to create a bomb intense writ… But Epidemic never mattered, minus atoms he’s nonexistent//