Does Tech still have it?

[King Tech Quadafi]

A lil on the spot, off the top, from the most elite of MCs, the creme of the crop

Allow me to introduce my self/
Im Mr. Put a Deuce to chests, drain blood, Reduce ya health/
Separate the real and the skilled, reduce the rest/
Leave the scent of blood in the room, if u aint used to flesh/
I got a rope with a knot, if you tryin to overpower mine/
Leave u hangin like MJ 3 seconds after he leave the foul line/
I breathe some foul rhymes, I spit some dirty shit/
Like rolling through a barrio, yelling out "Dirty Spics"/
Yeah I know I dont get the love I deserve/
But that make me stay hungry, stay wanting to put mouths on curbs/
Still got no props from the system/
But I fucks these bitches while they sleepin
like Date Rape victims/

You wanna test Tech kid, I dont believe it/
You'll have better luck checkin the mother of Jesus,
for sexually transmitted diseases/
My mind freezes when asked who'se fresh nowadays/
All ya styles is played, like Reeboks and high top fades/
Aint noone taking ya threats serious, dog so why rhyme it?/
Diss you on ya own beat and have every MC in ya crew co sign it/
Im so violent, you too fragile to know the thoughts I think/
And ya lungs is too delicate to know about the shots I drink/
Ya want beef? Ya speakin names? I show u how the .44 spin/
On my dick un neccessarily like circumsized foreskin/
Once the mics loaded and the scope's focused/
You played out and hopeless/
Wanna know who wrote this? Quote the dopest/

[Now_Im_Not_Banned]

You better quit, your rhymes are like Russian roulette and//
7 out of 8 times your killin' yourself man//
Like an American's health plans, your shit is really cheap//
Tech is just short for TECHnical difficulty//
Edible, dick is meat...shove my dick in your mouth, genital stability//

[King Tech Quadafi]

Better wipe ya self before you step in my thread/
Cuz Scitt Style Records got that wack juice drippin off everyones head/
Since when the fuck did Scitt have hip hop agility?/
That shit dont make sense like the word "genital stability"/
You're screwed son/ little brat aint been fed his food, son/
Got mixed up with the rude one/ Get slapped while hangin with Cubes son/
This is a mans game/That means you aint equipped to hang, lame/
Faker than Jewish land claims/Take back what you brang, mayne/

[Now_Im_Not_Banned]

You're dumber than I thought, your thoughts; absurd/
"Genital stability" is not a word//
Shootin your lights out like Boston's Bird//
I’m cooler than ice when I drop a verse//
Your shit would be creative… if only you were 12/
But your rhymes are as pathetic as you voting for yourself//
You shouldn't have stepped, I told you you're an embarrassment//
You're killing yourself, but this time cuz you're a terrorist//



Straight off the dome...

[ZILLA THA GOODFELLA]

eff u ima bust back wit a tech too yur both wack
tech doo u aint jack aint elite no more.. cuzzin trust that
shieet man watch me burst, Sccit U repulse me.. wit weak vocab like Afghan Foreigners/
came off scorching at first, but step 2 tha side, take notes as i ride... tha godfather up in this/
U gone hit tha ground after greeting my fist, can't spit cuzz yur sound won't ammount to shit/
U rhyme without the gift... while astounded amazed at my deadly display and my ways of rippin shit daily/
yo bitch on this board PMs me, she tells me, she aint pleased cuzz yur dick hangs lazy, all yur life u been hated by the ladies/
but U had needs, I aint sayin U gay but I bet U thought about doods before and said... maybe/
a fucin reject and yur rhymes aint shit neither, take a break again, shit take a breather, got no nouns at all, no compounds, fake adjetives/
I could fill blanks in wit ad libs and spit better raps than this/
shieeet, got no principles no life and no standards/
U 2 aint tha wackest on this site mann, yall tha wackest on tha planet/
and dats it, shit, what more can i say?
i aint liftin a pinky up in this mane, they dont want me 2 spray
my index layin low while tha middle stands tall which means yall finna pay im ready 2 play shieeeeeet wuteva maneeeee

[·SiNiStEr·]

Sccit.. megalomaniacal spitter, always one to boast sayin his shits greater..
All his verses straight freestyle, yeah.. an hour and a half later..
You been the local moron since the origin of the board..
We just want you to keep ya mouth shut like a jew when we question the lord..

[Now_Im_Not_Banned]

I may be nuts, but I ain't no megalomania
Beating me, it wont happen like Rosie Odenell having a hetero bangin' her
I'm fed up with slaying punks, and layin on their whore moms
Christian and Jews pray to the same lord, you moron
I can come biblical, physical, or lyrical
I split your balls, like the red sea, and make you chew your genitals

[M Dogg™]

Glad to see Tech back.

Sccit Killa 1, 2, and next up 3, 'cause I expose all phoney emcees/
Trying to sting like killa bees, but now you run into the Elite/
Homeboy let stop and pause for a minute, you so pussy every member going up in it/
I make ghost on tracks, I'll show you want ghost is/
Have you so ghost you being prayed for by frighten kids/
M Dogg, ghost maker 'cause I'm a lyrical killing fiend/
Well you the next ghost story on Halloween/
Don't make Sccit Killa 3 release, 'cause I can murder on wax/
Battle on beats or read off page, I still make physical contact/

[·SiNiStEr·]

Christian and Jews pray to the same lord, you moron

i aint christian either.. fuck em both

and it must take some real skill to end the bar with 'you moron', thats talent right there

[Now_Im_Not_Banned]

Christian and Jews pray to the same lord, you moron

i aint christian either.. fuck em both

and it must take some real skill to end the bar with 'you moron', thats talent right there

I'm not a loser, I don't waste my good rhymes for an internet message board...LOL...I save those for real songs...PeACe

[Now_Im_Not_Banned]

Glad to see Tech back.

Sccit Killa 1, 2, and next up 3, 'cause I expose all phoney emcees/
Trying to sting like killa bees, but now you run into the Elite/
Homeboy let stop and pause for a minute, you so pussy every member going up in it/
I make ghost on tracks, I'll show you want ghost is/
Have you so ghost you being prayed for by frighten kids/
M Dogg, ghost maker 'cause I'm a lyrical killing fiend/
Well you the next ghost story on Halloween/
Don't make Sccit Killa 3 release, 'cause I can murder on wax/
Battle on beats or read off page, I still make physical contact/

I've beaten you a million times, with your nursery rhymes//
And your grammars fuckin whack, shit, it’s worser than mines//
Reversin' through time, so I can see Mdogg when he was younger//
Make him go to school to learn English, unlike his mother//
Rhyme flutters, 5 opponents I guttered with my butter knife, fuckers//
And Sinister's talking shit when he's gayer than his avatar//
I ain't clownin' around, I will slay you with my savage bars…

[Code Blue]

A lil on the spot, off the top, from the most elite of MCs, the creme of the crop

Allow me to introduce my self/
Im Mr. Put a Deuce to chests, drain blood, Reduce ya health/
Separate the real and the skilled, reduce the rest/
Leave the scent of blood in the room, if u aint used to flesh/
I got a rope with a knot, if you tryin to overpower mine/
Leave u hangin like MJ 3 seconds after he leave the foul line/
I breathe some foul rhymes, I spit some dirty shit/
Like rolling through a barrio, yelling out "Dirty Spics"/
Yeah I know I dont get the love I deserve/
But that make me stay hungry, stay wanting to put mouths on curbs/
Still got no props from the system/
But I fucks these bitches while they sleepin
like Date Rape victims/

You wanna test Tech kid, I dont believe it/
You'll have better luck checkin the mother of Jesus,
for sexually transmitted diseases/
My mind freezes when asked who'se fresh nowadays/
All ya styles is played, like Reeboks and high top fades/
Aint noone taking ya threats serious, dog so why rhyme it?/
Diss you on ya own beat and have every MC in ya crew co sign it/
Im so violent, you too fragile to know the thoughts I think/
And ya lungs is too delicate to know about the shots I drink/
Ya want beef? Ya speakin names? I show u how the .44 spin/
On my dick un neccessarily like circumsized foreskin/
Once the mics loaded and the scope's focused/
You played out and hopeless/
Wanna know who wrote this? Quote the dopest/

Tight shit.

"Like rolling through a barrio, yelling out "Dirty Spics"/"

That shit had me rollin'.