Dirty Rhymin': Volume One

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Verse One (Krafty):
B**ches let me cream in 'em
'Cause the teen women know I use my tongue better than Gene Simmonds
My raps are hard and happen to flatten planet Mars
Even a biker holding handle bars couldn't handle my bars

You must be crazy to wanna battle Kraft
I battle, leave scattered scars just to have a laugh
I'm not a thug you buggers, I'm more hot and rugged
My style's like a kid you didn't plan - you gotta love it!

Spray painting names on fire ducts
Driving trucks into live wires and stuff
I ain't the type to lie in a rhyme I bust
Became a guy in the mile high club and still don't give a flying f*ck

Ferne Britton called me the elastic man
I lumped her in the stomach and snapped her f*cking Gastric Band

Verse Two (3sixT):
I fix my rhymes to a bat and smash it over your head
Hit you twice just to make sure that you heard what I said
My verbs are on edge, this herb goes straight to my head
Your flow is burnt out and dead, my sh*t is heavy as led

I'm the next best thing since they slicing up bread
You're a b**ch and I bet mummy still puts you to bed
If you ain't noticed yet, my rhymes are raw
Red raw like your girlfriends vaginal sores

I been high as balls since I was nine or more
Making more history than dinosaurs
Your rhymes have flaws, mine are fine, I'm sure
But your skill is a myth like the minotaur

I get high in the sky and I rape the clouds
And tie your mother up, proceed to taping her down
Jack to my raps 'til I'm insanely aroused
Ejaculate my kids and watch 'em play in her mouth

I'm a space age idiot sent from the past
With a warrent from the lord to come and kick your ass
I'm as sick as the disease that was plaguing Hamlet
But where's the Pied Piper to save your now b**ch ?

There's no competition, you will choose my bars
So I don't need to be a Nite-time Superstar
Just do as you wish, bump my new sh*t
And tell Joe 90 he's a useless b**ch