Elements > Tha Studio

Just Like Rakim

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Kal EL:
You're more vagina than pussy claimin' to be hard
This style is like UFC my man, no holds barred
I'm bringing oral Napalm fuck spittin' fire
I'm not Kanye West but this is going through the wire
Frank Castle's on the mic dishing out punishment with beatin's
Call this "The 5 Day Theory" cause it's getting done with no weekends
It's the lyrical attorney working Pro-Bono, so it's no charge
Havin' the crowd chant "Stay With Me" but its not DeBarge
It's the lyrical hitman bringing 187 on these wanksta's
Glorified cowards in the booth who really ain't gangta's
But are little boys with toys that got caught up in a fantasy
Convinced that their weak style is the way it has to be
So grab your rhymes while I get my lyrical heater
Standin outside in a G ride wearin' a wife beater
From Fillmore to Oaktown to Crenshaw to Compton
I'm runnin through your crew kickin and stompin'
While I'm shouting WestSide throwin' lyrical bullits from my gat
Because its not where ya from its where ya at

Smithy:
good shit that lar......very good lyrically.  Thought ya last 2 lines wer off tha chain

keep doin ya thing

Kal EL:

--- Quote from: Smithy on February 15, 2005, 05:22:46 AM ---good shit that lar......very good lyrically.  Thought ya last 2 lines wer off tha chain

keep doin ya thing

--- End quote ---

^^^^^^^
Thanks man.

bez:
Great verse man.

M Dogg™:
a rhyme from 2001...  :o

Like Rakim, I ain't no joke, I just watch you snort coke
Them laugh at the way you choke, Can't believe your additiced to dope
Muthaphukka put on your coat
'Cause we about to go on a dangeruos ride, I ain't Deion, but I play in prime time
Dunking on you, like Jordan on NBA Live
How can you diss me, when you ain't even dropped a rhyme
I'll go right through, like the riots did to onetime
So please, just just drop a line
Muthaphukka, I'll go gangsta like the year was 1995
Or say a speech like the Martin of 1965
‘Cause I drop shit tight like a glove
My style is so creative, Peoples better show me love
I switch shit so weird, it's like Puffy throwing a dub
Or Daz Dillinger showing that N.Y. love
And to quote Rakim, I hold the microphone like a grudge
This old school shit gots you getting up
So stop playing
And complaining
'Cause when I drop shit, you gets hyped
It makes you, want to fight
And bob your heads, saying my shits tight
'Cause lyrically no one can play me
Or even fade me
The Rhyme Dropper tried but he couldn't read
The shit that says I run the industry
And now that I got shit correct
I ready to tear up the set
I force you to watch kids say "are we there yet?"

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