DopeRhyma vs Noetic

trap. · 01-28-2013, 05:12 PM

04-08-2002

Noetic spits:

(1st) of all, in mere (2nd)’s (seconds), I’ll give ya the (3rd) degree in burns,
so come (4th) (forth) or plead the (5th) if ya prefer to be adjourned.

I’m not concerned, my (6th) sense said in advance you’ll never threaten me,
Cuz my “sentence” got you “on lock” behind my “bars” with no chance of ever “getting free”.

So I have “faith” like Evans, playin a set on “(7th) heaven”,
Cuz I’m on my (8th) lap, while you still “prayin” to get ya engine revin’.

“It’s the top of the (9th), and all ya hear is my damn fans cheerin” my grandslam,
While your droppin the mic, appearin’ on American Bandstand.

And ya Damn clan can suck this, I’ll choke ya boys till their necks pop,
Cuz I “can’t be fukked with”, like broken toys from a sex shop.

I come to “wreck shop”, like a heated bull in a china store,
So I’ll find his chord, and proceed to pull till his spine is tore.

Or till ya whinin’ more than the finest whore who’s vagina’s tore,
Outside ya door, it says “Slow Child”, what did you think the sign is for?…

Ya mind is poor, and ya lines are more, outdated than dinosaurs,
Ya tryin to score, but this ain’t no game kid, this time it’s war!

You’ll never “see me”, like subliminal signs on the TV,
Or STEVEY… WONDERin’ where to find Chandra Levy.

What, you want a freebie?

Your “welfare” is already “dependant” on me sayin what I think on wax,
I’ve sonned so many MC’s…I get to claim it on my income tax.

I’m turning members of your weak board into burning embers,
And “schoolin” your “illiterate” azz like Sylvan learnin’ centers.

Your “at the end of your rope” so I’ll leave you “hung” just like a jury,
Cuz I spit such hot shyt you’d think my lungs were spiked with curry,

My tongue can strike with fury, while exposin’ ferocious rows,
Of razor sharp teeth, and spark beef with explosive blows.

My corrosive flows, can even make Midas’ touch tarnish,
Your only good insult is thinkin’ you could fight us with such garbage.

So much carnage, you’ll call ya loss the day of holocaust,
Sayin “All is lost!”, and havin’flashbacks of the way ya all were tossed.

Dope Spits:

ayo kid...u could spit at me for days with exlax...and i still wouldn't even give two shits!

Noetic? more like a 'tank' thats gone 'septic' whose flow's pathetic//
another "established" head i've collected, its projected Dope proves affective//
This newbies such crap-it-hurts, so catch-this-curse, for ya wack-spit-verse//
that'll send you "back-ta-birth", so i can be the one to "smack-ya-first"//
extract-ya-lack of an accident verse...one-on-one with Dope? nah you need a partner//
faggot, I could spit in sign language while gettin' head and still "CUM" harder!!//
Noetic on his death bed, Dope "Spit-Sick" 'n' gave em' these stitched wrists//
reverse bauls now he shits piss, DAMN noetic's gettin wRAPPED like its christmas//
It seems ya dreams of bein' dope are shattered cuz i spotted ya schemes//
ayo, theres no need to change ya pants being iLL is just not in ya Genes (Jeans)//
Noetic's incoherent speeches...quickly get shit on by Dope's eliteness//
putting the #3 button on phones in ya mouth is the only way you could "DEF" EAT this//
Damn kid, you made it (S)o (O)bvious (H)ow (H)orrendesly ya verse was pre-written, provin' ur uselessness//
Irrelavent, lacking shots to your oppenent (me)... a frequent problem wit newbie nuisances//
I throw-blows at amateurs and-scriptures...like Noetics, poetics, get sonned cuz I flow-'n'-drop-bombs//
Grab ya shit leave this site witcha boys...take ya wackness back to ****.com//

ripped...

01-28-2013, 05:12 PM	#1
trap. Senior Citizen Join Date: Aug 1997 Posts: 3,870 Battle Record: 4-3 Rep Power: 0	DopeRhyma vs Noetic 04-08-2002 Noetic spits: (1st) of all, in mere (2nd)’s (seconds), I’ll give ya the (3rd) degree in burns, so come (4th) (forth) or plead the (5th) if ya prefer to be adjourned. I’m not concerned, my (6th) sense said in advance you’ll never threaten me, Cuz my “sentence” got you “on lock” behind my “bars” with no chance of ever “getting free”. So I have “faith” like Evans, playin a set on “(7th) heaven”, Cuz I’m on my (8th) lap, while you still “prayin” to get ya engine revin’. “It’s the top of the (9th), and all ya hear is my damn fans cheerin” my grandslam, While your droppin the mic, appearin’ on American Bandstand. And ya Damn clan can suck this, I’ll choke ya boys till their necks pop, Cuz I “can’t be fukked with”, like broken toys from a sex shop. I come to “wreck shop”, like a heated bull in a china store, So I’ll find his chord, and proceed to pull till his spine is tore. Or till ya whinin’ more than the finest whore who’s vagina’s tore, Outside ya door, it says “Slow Child”, what did you think the sign is for?… Ya mind is poor, and ya lines are more, outdated than dinosaurs, Ya tryin to score, but this ain’t no game kid, this time it’s war! You’ll never “see me”, like subliminal signs on the TV, Or STEVEY… WONDERin’ where to find Chandra Levy. What, you want a freebie? Your “welfare” is already “dependant” on me sayin what I think on wax, I’ve sonned so many MC’s…I get to claim it on my income tax. I’m turning members of your weak board into burning embers, And “schoolin” your “illiterate” azz like Sylvan learnin’ centers. Your “at the end of your rope” so I’ll leave you “hung” just like a jury, Cuz I spit such hot shyt you’d think my lungs were spiked with curry, My tongue can strike with fury, while exposin’ ferocious rows, Of razor sharp teeth, and spark beef with explosive blows. My corrosive flows, can even make Midas’ touch tarnish, Your only good insult is thinkin’ you could fight us with such garbage. So much carnage, you’ll call ya loss the day of holocaust, Sayin “All is lost!”, and havin’flashbacks of the way ya all were tossed. Dope Spits: ayo kid...u could spit at me for days with exlax...and i still wouldn't even give two shits! Noetic? more like a 'tank' thats gone 'septic' whose flow's pathetic// another "established" head i've collected, its projected Dope proves affective// This newbies such crap-it-hurts, so catch-this-curse, for ya wack-spit-verse// that'll send you "back-ta-birth", so i can be the one to "smack-ya-first"// extract-ya-lack of an accident verse...one-on-one with Dope? nah you need a partner// faggot, I could spit in sign language while gettin' head and still "CUM" harder!!// Noetic on his death bed, Dope "Spit-Sick" 'n' gave em' these stitched wrists// reverse bauls now he shits piss, DAMN noetic's gettin wRAPPED like its christmas// It seems ya dreams of bein' dope are shattered cuz i spotted ya schemes// ayo, theres no need to change ya pants being iLL is just not in ya Genes (Jeans)// Noetic's incoherent speeches...quickly get shit on by Dope's eliteness// putting the #3 button on phones in ya mouth is the only way you could "DEF" EAT this// Damn kid, you made it (S)o (O)bvious (H)ow (H)orrendesly ya verse was pre-written, provin' ur uselessness// Irrelavent, lacking shots to your oppenent (me)... a frequent problem wit newbie nuisances// I throw-blows at amateurs and-scriptures...like Noetics, poetics, get sonned cuz I flow-'n'-drop-bombs// Grab ya shit leave this site witcha boys...take ya wackness back to ****.com// ripped...