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Forum nameFreestyle Board Archives
Topic subjectRE: Willi-dudat vs Biohazard
Topic URLhttp://board.okayplayer.com/okp.php?az=show_topic&forum=20&topic_id=18843&mesg_id=18865
18865, RE: Willi-dudat vs Biohazard
Posted by MiracleRic, Thu Aug-17-06 12:35 PM

Ayo, shouldn't this nigga be somewhere bustin pimples,
"Oh look how much he's growin" Granny pinchin on his dimples;
Im sayin, I aint know you could be 16 for years tho,
Nigga screamin that shit since Reginald was a 'Winslow':
No MATTERS tho, I slaughter ya FAMILY with the flow,
Out-rap you and ya ghost from the wall to the windoooooooow!!!(;)
So round up ya kinfolk, meet me on da set of FULL HOUSE,
so I can air you out on that ugly ass couch:
Or I'd really meet on ya level down on Sesame Street,
In front'a ya puppet buddies, leave ya face crumpled and ugly;
regardless of the setting or backdrop you'd get done in,
you Fred Berry rappin, ya verses is re-runnin':
while Im exceedingly cunnin, consistently keep em comin',
Im up battin' a thousand you averagin nothin buntin;
Im a star, for some reason Ric thought you were my equal,
you dead the first scene, Im preparin for the sequel:


Willi_dudat, cats be like "Where dude at?"/
He's in the bathroom nursin' his blue black bruised back/
Fuckin' new jack, I'm sick of all this novice shit/
My rhymes burn like white phosphorous, spit 'til you use lose consciousness/
Leave you without confidence, postureless like I removed your spine/
With ruthless lines, tearin' through your wackass pseudo-rhymes/
I'm too sublime, brutalize your crude-designed cadence/
Mastermind, your raps is like the food out my anus/
Either a painless death, lethal ejection out the tournament/
Or I burn this bitch, left to fester in the furnaces/
Cursed to spit wack shit, you're another pawn doin' backflips/
A single verse in my repertoire murder every song in your tracklist/
Bombin' your ass quick, track your movements via sattelite/
Hear this fool 'wail' as I 'Free Willi' from his natural life/
Your speed is cattle-like, punkin' this kid for his milk money/
Recyclin' played out punches, thinkin' that they're still funny/
Get killed, dunny, you'd best enjoy your last day/
Slice through your masquerade, burnt out like an ashtray/
This cat stay on the John, son, like his name was really Elton/
Dixie Chick, a prissy hick, just call him Willi Nelson/