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Crew Tourny: Melanin vs. The Realists (Continued)

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ROCCY:
Pillows Verse:

Drugs and liquor help me to escape reality, But in all actuality the mentality i got gets beat outta me//
I cant stop this internal bleeding so its probly gonna take me to fatality, I feel like i got no life left//
Gotta fight death cuz my future's looking bright-less, Its quite messed to see that i didn't make the right guess//
Now im enduring an eternal, ever-lasting punishment of existence//
The devil's calling me but my resistance only leads to his persistence, Fuck Melanin Deficient//
They have a disease called, lyrical deficiency, And fuck infinite, You don't have hip hop lyrics, your more like shake sphere//
But it aint so bad cuz hell aint that far from here, We got people starving here and soldiers armed and marching with fear//
Driven down a fucked up path and its so hard to steer, People sacrificing their lives cuz they feel Armageddon's near//
My self-esteem crashed along with the World Trade Center//
Cuz in this hectic world of pay-getters, its pointless to depend on them until heaven's gates get entered//
I pray men are treated equal as people but there'll always be those deceitful cheat-fools//
We'll always be separated from the bottom feeding weasels and the regal, Those evil, cold-blooded terrorists and the even minded peaceful//
I've always felt this way but what else can i say?, Maybe I'll be dealt a different hand next time but not today//
To God i pray but what's the use, my soul will always be locked away//

ROCCY:
Owens Verse:


we be them boys called tha realists, showing yall fuckers how we do this/
we make it tight like everyday, thats why we dont give a fuck what you say/
we will kick your ass, take your cash/
then smash the gas, we dont take no shit/      
we let you know who you fucking with, you fucking with tha realist ass niggas/
blowing up shit and pulling triggas, so if you aint with us/
you aint shit but dust, and your ass smell like musk/
Melanin Deficient are some stupid bitches, they are like some punk ass snitches/
always trying to tell shit they dont know, but when tha the realist run thru the doe/
they become scared as a fucking little ho, to bad they dont exist no mo/
oh hold on they never did exist, get they ass kicked in the mist/
always wanting a fucking kiss, from another man/
they think they hard cause they roo a 1955 sudan, they look like some fucking fags/
you know how they be fucking them rags/

ROCCY:
Rhym Tyms Ish:


Steppin into the the ring gonna knock you out~,
Me and my golden gloves ganna show you what this is all about~.

The one hitta quita~,  Im known as the lyrical spitta~,
Two hits in the round~~, me hitten you and you hitten the ground~~.

Its gonna be lights out~, all your gonna be seeing is the ceiling~~,
Gonna make you look like a girl scout~, gonna make sounds little piggy squeling~~.

So step back rookie~ and dont be bringing that weak game up in here~~,
Go sell you're cookies~ before I make your rep dissapear~~

We're the Realists and we're taken you out with technique~,
So leave this game for the pros and go back to hind and go seek~

One, two, three, four, five your down and sraight out cold~,
We're kicking your ass can't stop us its uncontrolled~.

Six, seven eigth, nine, ten the fights over we win with out doubt~,
This is the end of this battle and you got knocked the F*CK OUT!~

KVB:
Alright 2 out of 5 active Melanin MCs have turned in their verses, and it's past deadline... guess you guys gotta stand on your own here.

ROCCY:

--- Quote ---Alright 2 out of 5 active Melanin MCs have turned in their verses, and it's past deadline... guess you guys gotta stand on your own here.
--- End quote ---



Yeah..WTF?..Its passed the date..so what know?

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