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2007 Rapmusic.com GRB Finals
Final Battle verse against Cire, Dahnamics aka D.Omen, Enef, DZK, Tunk, J Nyce, and Nawshus. Better mix should be up tomorrow.
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Take charge
A total of 1 users rated on average: 5.0 stars
Charts position
» highest in charts: # 35 (1,507,376 songs currently listed in HipHop)
» highest in sub-genre: # 20 (841,478 songs currently listed in HipHop > Hip Hop General)
» highest in sub-genre: # 20 (841,478 songs currently listed in HipHop > Hip Hop General)
About the song
Final Battle verse against Cire, Dahnamics aka D.Omen, Enef, DZK, Tunk, J Nyce, and Nawshus. Better mix should be up tomorrow.
Lyrics
Of all the elite foes listed/
Everyone seems dope, except the obese joke, better known as D. Omission/
The cheat vote getting - blubber butt/
Cant keep up with the beat, cause its tough to speak with three rows of chins/
But some people believe, that he upped his steez/
Cause he went from being atrocious, to mediocre, please/
Claim his lines are the benchmark/
Well yall must mean the ass cheek indentions that he tend to leave on the sits at the park/
This retard, hit me for tips and help/
Said he was seeking guidance, but I was surprised that he meant Chip and Dale’s/
That’s why I was so reluctant to let him sponsor me/
Cause I thought that he, literally wanted to put money on me/
But I’m sorry the odds are against ya/
Your pudgy ass shouldn’t ate that last bargain chip up/
Don’t ever attempt to spit in the in front vast group/
They’ll just Buddha, and not cause you resemble statue/
Then there’s Enef. The hopeless fraud/
Jeff should close your account, and charge you 30 dollars since you only get in over draws/
And I know it’s hard to rate his tune/
Cause with that lisp, I can’t tell the difference between you and a deflating balloon/
There’s no way you place greater than 8th or 7th/
So before you start Aiming, you better say your prayers/
Try hard, but the results still will be grim and dim/
Your better off putting your heart n’ soul in your Timberlands/
End up badly bruise, with slings on both sleeves/
don’t need a family reunion to bring you to your knees/
Just slide up off my scrotum/
NF, the poor kid rap, career was $hort lived, and I aint talking Oakland/
I’m persuasive, this chump obeys my commands/
No games, but we all know that Tunk played in my hands/
This aint cinema dawg, well maybe this case/
Think you winning!? Come on man, you must be Smoking Aces/
Your imbecile and feminine bum/
If yall stumble on some lingerie it’s probably the slip of the tunk/
Your best decision is run/
‘less you insist to get hit with a fist with the strength to turn bricks into crumbs, bi***/
I’ll design a plan for your next tape/
Yup, make you diagram, then call you dead weight/
Honky Tonk, don’t matter if you practice in rehearsal/
Your tracks are an ad to quite, like those “The Truth” commercials/
Now Cire’s on the plate, bringing a taste of Chicago/
Man I spit that sh*** in a napkin then placed in the garbage/
Was never compared to garments, so this is a first/
if he’s air to the throne, then I’m a wind breaker/
Claim warbux is your influence/
But aint no way in hell he told you to ruin the style that he uses/
That’s why your edicate presently gets despised/
Call you Serena, your just a Mexican bi*** that dies/
I got this flat liar’s heart racing/
With faulty brakes and flat tires on the interstate with bad drivers/
Now he’s angry with a long face like Quagmire/
Don’t hate on me dawg, hate the song your lacing/
Biters is what makes him worried/
But your verse wont be played Norbit like Eddie Murphy/
Just be glad you walk away with a couple of dollars/
Hang it up, yous a goner, you guess it Sayonara/
Now its time to abolish this jolly geek giant/
Who talks like his nostrils got caught in somebody’s needle pylers/
Obviously its Wird of Pley, certainly gets served and ate/
Burped or regurgitate, served again, then convert to waste/
Whats up with your girls weight, I heard she’s gigantic/
Said she’s in ship shape, well it must be Titanic/
Your best bet is to give up/
Praying Cire will save your neck, but he’s only saving your naked pictures/
You flamer, we can take this to live stage/
But don’t need Maury Povich to tell you, this child Play/
And I aint disregarding your lifestyle/
I cant respect a man who rocks a night gown, and arches his eyebrows/
You shouldn’t even be in this final discussion/
My nuts aint up for grabs, but why don’t you hung ‘em/
Truthfully you never have sick quotes/
So why peep word of plays, when you can just read the cliff notes/
Now I got novice, I mean Nawshus/
speaking cautious, because his content is no contest/
The problem is your topics got me nodding off/
As if I attempted to bob my head to Dahnamic’s song/
I checked the wheels of what your driving/
But your rhyming made me a forgetful mechanic, I wonder what alignment/
Your nonsense gets shed to light/
And since I’m digging into your past perhaps I should make it your burial site/
I aint forgot about Nyce, the criminal diva/
You look like a bi***, that’s why you got a miss demeanor/
Soliciting your cds, but the DJs wont play them/
So how you J Nyce, when you got no rotation?/
Quit the queer talk, talking bout you pushing real blocks -
Of cocaine, you aint even slanging Xerox./
Your just sad, you cant even past the time/
Voters will place J last, so your ass at nine/
Aint nothing changed, DZK is still the same cyborg/
That would give his right arm, to win an online tour-
ny, so he cheats, with the intention to snipe off/
Honest niggas like me, but it only back fires on him/
Know I wont win, cause once this opens up -
His buddies are enter fearing, call it keyboard phobia/
This chubby punk, with the rusty metallic voice/
Tried to eat the tally up, cause he thought they were brownie points/
Hope this puts your mind at ease/
I will always be, in the drivers seat, even if you reach sobriety/
I know your homo, it’s a proven fact/
Cause old folks are always talking bout the bulging disk on they back/
But what he says is really not rewarding/
Cause f*** a thread, ill Chris is writing forum/
Now you and the 7 are lied up in dirt/
Guess life sucks and hurts, that’s right, just desserts- for you/
Everyone seems dope, except the obese joke, better known as D. Omission/
The cheat vote getting - blubber butt/
Cant keep up with the beat, cause its tough to speak with three rows of chins/
But some people believe, that he upped his steez/
Cause he went from being atrocious, to mediocre, please/
Claim his lines are the benchmark/
Well yall must mean the ass cheek indentions that he tend to leave on the sits at the park/
This retard, hit me for tips and help/
Said he was seeking guidance, but I was surprised that he meant Chip and Dale’s/
That’s why I was so reluctant to let him sponsor me/
Cause I thought that he, literally wanted to put money on me/
But I’m sorry the odds are against ya/
Your pudgy ass shouldn’t ate that last bargain chip up/
Don’t ever attempt to spit in the in front vast group/
They’ll just Buddha, and not cause you resemble statue/
Then there’s Enef. The hopeless fraud/
Jeff should close your account, and charge you 30 dollars since you only get in over draws/
And I know it’s hard to rate his tune/
Cause with that lisp, I can’t tell the difference between you and a deflating balloon/
There’s no way you place greater than 8th or 7th/
So before you start Aiming, you better say your prayers/
Try hard, but the results still will be grim and dim/
Your better off putting your heart n’ soul in your Timberlands/
End up badly bruise, with slings on both sleeves/
don’t need a family reunion to bring you to your knees/
Just slide up off my scrotum/
NF, the poor kid rap, career was $hort lived, and I aint talking Oakland/
I’m persuasive, this chump obeys my commands/
No games, but we all know that Tunk played in my hands/
This aint cinema dawg, well maybe this case/
Think you winning!? Come on man, you must be Smoking Aces/
Your imbecile and feminine bum/
If yall stumble on some lingerie it’s probably the slip of the tunk/
Your best decision is run/
‘less you insist to get hit with a fist with the strength to turn bricks into crumbs, bi***/
I’ll design a plan for your next tape/
Yup, make you diagram, then call you dead weight/
Honky Tonk, don’t matter if you practice in rehearsal/
Your tracks are an ad to quite, like those “The Truth” commercials/
Now Cire’s on the plate, bringing a taste of Chicago/
Man I spit that sh*** in a napkin then placed in the garbage/
Was never compared to garments, so this is a first/
if he’s air to the throne, then I’m a wind breaker/
Claim warbux is your influence/
But aint no way in hell he told you to ruin the style that he uses/
That’s why your edicate presently gets despised/
Call you Serena, your just a Mexican bi*** that dies/
I got this flat liar’s heart racing/
With faulty brakes and flat tires on the interstate with bad drivers/
Now he’s angry with a long face like Quagmire/
Don’t hate on me dawg, hate the song your lacing/
Biters is what makes him worried/
But your verse wont be played Norbit like Eddie Murphy/
Just be glad you walk away with a couple of dollars/
Hang it up, yous a goner, you guess it Sayonara/
Now its time to abolish this jolly geek giant/
Who talks like his nostrils got caught in somebody’s needle pylers/
Obviously its Wird of Pley, certainly gets served and ate/
Burped or regurgitate, served again, then convert to waste/
Whats up with your girls weight, I heard she’s gigantic/
Said she’s in ship shape, well it must be Titanic/
Your best bet is to give up/
Praying Cire will save your neck, but he’s only saving your naked pictures/
You flamer, we can take this to live stage/
But don’t need Maury Povich to tell you, this child Play/
And I aint disregarding your lifestyle/
I cant respect a man who rocks a night gown, and arches his eyebrows/
You shouldn’t even be in this final discussion/
My nuts aint up for grabs, but why don’t you hung ‘em/
Truthfully you never have sick quotes/
So why peep word of plays, when you can just read the cliff notes/
Now I got novice, I mean Nawshus/
speaking cautious, because his content is no contest/
The problem is your topics got me nodding off/
As if I attempted to bob my head to Dahnamic’s song/
I checked the wheels of what your driving/
But your rhyming made me a forgetful mechanic, I wonder what alignment/
Your nonsense gets shed to light/
And since I’m digging into your past perhaps I should make it your burial site/
I aint forgot about Nyce, the criminal diva/
You look like a bi***, that’s why you got a miss demeanor/
Soliciting your cds, but the DJs wont play them/
So how you J Nyce, when you got no rotation?/
Quit the queer talk, talking bout you pushing real blocks -
Of cocaine, you aint even slanging Xerox./
Your just sad, you cant even past the time/
Voters will place J last, so your ass at nine/
Aint nothing changed, DZK is still the same cyborg/
That would give his right arm, to win an online tour-
ny, so he cheats, with the intention to snipe off/
Honest niggas like me, but it only back fires on him/
Know I wont win, cause once this opens up -
His buddies are enter fearing, call it keyboard phobia/
This chubby punk, with the rusty metallic voice/
Tried to eat the tally up, cause he thought they were brownie points/
Hope this puts your mind at ease/
I will always be, in the drivers seat, even if you reach sobriety/
I know your homo, it’s a proven fact/
Cause old folks are always talking bout the bulging disk on they back/
But what he says is really not rewarding/
Cause f*** a thread, ill Chris is writing forum/
Now you and the 7 are lied up in dirt/
Guess life sucks and hurts, that’s right, just desserts- for you/
