Rapz Of Death

*Freestyle over 'Stupid Motherfuckers' by Group Home. Produced by the Alchemist [Verse One: Mac Lethal] Yo, here's a little story all about life as the anti-Christ All about the things that we like about icey hot pores Rappers only wanna talk about sex, they should think outside the box more Lookin' through my sock drawer Creepin' out his Condor Circle They heard I turned my snot orange purple as an encore Sophomores thinkin' that my dumb story sucks I'm ready now, I'm done warming up (what the fuck?) I'm like a mix between Demi and Dudley Moore Paradise Lost in a city of ugly whores Waiting for the acid sitting in me to run it's course The toughest horse running with the witty and cunning force You jump for yours, get it then you sit at the putting course Revolutionaries sounding pitifully uniformed The stubborn horns hit him now he's getting his tummy torn Awwww You Silly Puddy little feminine fuckers swarm around So devoid I can't the decoys I'm leezoid But call me the man Randal Pink Floyd I man handle B-Boys They're kissing my ass for show I'm twisting 'em fast or slow They give me their cash and go My rhythm with crack their skull Man listen (What?) My bitchy and classy ho is sick of the past and though She sitting there Every time the Bic'ers flair breaking the wicker chairs I watch her like the Itchy & Scratchy show I don't get mad when facts aren't certain When people think Atmosphere's a person Or people think Tech N9Ne's a group Cause every single check I recoup I'm hitting rappers with my wet slimy poop It's feeling like I took it o the head 90 proof Spaced out but at best I'm astute But at bedtime I stoop to the level of your best rhyme and shoot All you see is nets, fires and hoops I grab 'em by the neck ties and scoop Working all the muscles in their chest, thighs and glutes I'm walking with a lead pipe for brutes So dress up in your best shiny suit And don't cross the red line recruit My New England friend is more awesome than Harvard I chew on my pen, sword, Glock and my armor George Washington Carver wants to grow a couple plants for me So he can smoke out my family Rapz of Death [Verse Two: Sage Francis] Grab your tec's before you test this don I spell out 'Fuck y'all' with black darts on a scan tron It's your grandmom's shoulders I'm standing on Jump into a flip, bust a split at the Dance-A-Thon I make her wear a brillo pad as a tampon And do the Running Man until the cervical cancer's gone You bloody pussy like Sage Francis song Make whoopie to a Def Juxie make 'em claim Anticon Keep your panties on, loudmouth, step back I challenge Chuck Norris to a roundhouse death match In an outhouse with a wet snatch to dry down Droppin' dirty palms on your girly's long white gown Alright now, back to business Kill a pimp for justice, save the day to smack his bitches Hooooooe, that's ridiculous I'm like, "Don't you know who's little dick this is?" Zigga Xual Zan Master of fresh I rock nicotine patches on a jean jacket vest I'm rough Puff out your pock mark, acne chest Knock the wind out of a blow hard Stand back than catch his breath Peaceful, violent Passive aggressive Happy depressed off medicated asshole who doesn't have regrets I study abroad without having to travel west I hump legs that are so fat they're dents So dense she gets left with a mustache waxy chest I get more nasty than the backseat of a Taxi gets And I don't have to Confess My muscle tees are black make of plastic mesh Fuck a b's my ass smells of fantastic sex I will kill the homophobes till there's none of them faggots left Assess the situation Jason Rapz Of Death