Elements > Tha Studio

Blade Vs. Pr1mo- Heavyweight Championship

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bLaDe:
Checkin in....

Edit: sorry primo i know u wanted me to spit early, but last night i was dead tired, n now im havin a killer headache[lol yea the part bout my migranes r true], i'll spit sumtime today, peace

  -{bLaDe}

maximus:
whoa pr1mo dat shit was hella ill.. man best shit i eva seen from u man propz... yo we should do a lil battle for old times sakez.. iz whateva nice verse this shit gna be classical

~1~

.:DayGoStyLz:.:

--- Quote from: -MaXi-PaDz- on December 10, 2002, 03:27:39 PM ---whoa pr1mo dat shit was hella ill.. man best shit i eva seen from u man propz... yo we should do a lil battle for old times sakez.. iz whateva nice verse this shit gna be classical

~1~

--- End quote ---

i think tha verse where he killed u was his best lol  ;D

Primo:
u mean killed sha77er star..j/p but if i win this I gotta give Tone a shot at it..cuz we neva battled

bLaDe:
~Armageddon~
I erase-n-chop-up-yo-fame, bLaDe;-the-illest-in-this-game like playin scrabble-n-spellin A-I-D-S; the day u'll beat me, is when straights start-walkin in gay-parades ~/
Feel this-in-ya-frame, you waz on the top-of-the-game, but your fallin like the tower of babel-compellin the dark-symbolizem of ace-of-spades~/
Leavin mankind confined in the perils of my mind; Primo couldnt bust-a-rhyme if he was a chiropractor who broke-necks~/
I soak-techs in deep rhymes so I can spray liqued linguiestics, which rusts-ya-mind bouncin ya head harder than bad checks~/
I bust-caps like cops exposing-illegal-production-of-hats, deep impact like Téa Leoni, pack lethal heat like burnin fedex packs filled-with-anthrax~/
The Earths crust-collapse, causin quakes with murderious-raps, radiatin paradoxial blows-of-destruction-with-ill-syntax~/
Digital scripts burn like cds; whoever labeled you an MC, was as confused as columbus namin america the west-indies~/
Ballistic-hits hyper-text connects likes fiber optical cable, lyrics thurst and rise like blood pressure due to Craigs supressed-artiries~/
bLaDes taking out the-"trash", you-brag bout ure big iq but still cant think yo self outta a trailor-park, yo disses keep missin me like tryin to hammer a nail-in-the-dark~/
Sail-and-embark then conquer cuz I prevail-like-a-spark to a cloud of flame, slash like a scorpiens tail-makin-my-mark~/
you get exposed like opera whinfrey behind as a child; im fuckin this kid up like S.P.M in an elavator full of children~/
Verbal Militant illin; while wackz fiendin for my lyrics like thirsty egyptians for the nile, bLaDe be servin suckaz like wimbildun~/
Smokin like cigars, Craig getz played like guitars, yo ass gets 'fucked' harder with every line of ure rhyme like prisoners droppin-'bars'~/
Confined in the complex labyrinth of my syntax like Minotaur, I got lines longer than ethopian food bazars,blazin like stars, acidic blades inflict whoppin-scars~/
i got more shots than actors re-taking scenes of vaccination on ER, Crag gets more male[mail] than tha letter box of a gay bar~/
Ha, ive seen suckaz like you, bLaDe's been-in-the-game, I'm hitten-em wid venoumous Synonyms and bringin-the-pain~/
Flingin verbal 'punches' stingin-yo-brain, makin Craig disspear like trix by david blane, gettin close like gillet slitin-yo-jugular vein~/
I cant feel you like a dysfuntional medulla oblongata, but im gettin deep like pink scuba diving, so ya betta throw in tha 'towel'~/
Check it, my rhymes r dope, Craig gets stoned harder than Medusa in the middle east commitin adultry, yo im droppin bombs like Colin Powell~/
stoppin-yo-lines like anti wrinkle creams, check the science im droppin-on-minds like the apple dat hit-newtons-dome~/
adoptin-yo-design like mosiac jigsaws, faggot you Rush-in-ya asses, R-U.S.S.R? bombin yo territory like Germany splittin-putins-home~/
Got yo minds dividing faster thana math master, mah 'flow' causin mo damage than a flash flood disaster, hittin yo chest like asthama, off the wall like a rotten M.J poster~/
"Molestin' yo mind 'spiritualy' like a pastor, When im through with you, you'll need heavy coating of plaster, sending wacks like Craig 'running home' like samy sosa~/
You under an illusion, dead before you battled me like bruce in sixth sense, im sicc but cant see you cuming like a blind prostitute~/
im droppin more keys than a clumsy delusioned warden, acute lyrical death: results of the post mortem, finga on tha trigga but Craigs to afraid to shoot~/......


...R.I.P'ped....

  -{bLaDe}

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