Jayare:

miracle ric the miracles this: that you still got lips
that ya tounge teeth and cheeks anint burnt to a crisp
that you aint glued to ya screen havin epileptic fits
from the frequency of hits punched lined when i spit
but you aint finished reading you decieving yaself
bleieving fools chances like playing lotteris for wealth
fate dancing enchanted dreams your mind escapes this toture
you sorta like little wayne a little lame with little flame
scorcher? imposter! im the enforcer body contorter
you the tortoise im a lion fuck the hare! a author
of rhymes penned poetically perfectly punchin you pundits
nitwits with zits im bustin everything you come wit
dumb shit yous ireelevant im an elephant stompinya
dung droppin ya my trunk squeez the shit outts ya
dissapear like hoffa stop ya cold like chicks with thick bush
ya lyrics is sleek and cunning only cuz you lick bush
breath rank fresh tank of gas for this whup ass
cuz i got a hemmy powered leg for your butch ass
yous a dude but a dyke stil write with spite filled
quills devoid of ink full of fear of what i might spill
i mighth kill but caution zin warned ya boy
about playing in his living room with severed torsos for toys.


MircleRic:

(ayA)R(e) stands for junior, push his petal to the floor, laid to rest in petunias, retune ya straight daily tribune’d ya, body found in the harbor, Barber, shape up my sack close, here's a fat dose, for those intolerant to lactose, tiddy residue, im the gritty devil who, vexes entry level crews, threw hexes to, those whose chest is metal dude, tin man, I question ya heart, I bare flows on scarecrows that use rectal darts, hot shit like years of repressin farts, one special aroma, you should play a vegetables part, and rest in a coma, gomer…poyle(sp?), the type of hot shit, that makes a colon smile, im silky johnson with a roman style, this gladiator would gladly hate ya, and part ya wig, like u aint combed in awhile, NumbNuts!!!! Whats your major malfunction!!!…I flow like the Nile Punchin, continental drifts when the river bowels eruptin, “Pardon the Interruption…this is a news update…Jayare…is softer then the middle of a little Debbie cupcake” hold Fickle-Freddie’s nuts straight, oh for fucks sake, I guess ya can never duck fate, unless there’s a strange vessel, that may increase ya pain threshold, i’ll still leave ya damn flesh cold, they call me the main esco…bar, im the best known…czar, lift ya dress code, cause I only seen ya breasts so…far, plant the seed of death’s chorus, ya niggas bore us, a son, by the name of rigimortis, it’s the tortoise, leavin the bunnies hung, along with the snot-nosed gatos runnin from…21

"There is nothing more poetic, but depressing than a male writer" -yours truly