INTERNET RAP BATTLES - IT JUST DOESN'T GET ANY MORE HARDCORE.

Thank you Lansing Community College for spawning the boredom in class necessary to actually do this.

For those who aren't accustomed to me being nasty, I apologize. It's all in good fun even though I may sound like a total bastard. I would never be this vulgar in real life. Rap battles, baby. Footnotes are provided for personals.

You're makin a name for yourself, thats for sure
But not the name your momma gave ya
when she born and raised ya, no
And*, that sucker halfwit half pint halfass jackass
Livin homegrown jerkin to porn alone, stoned
Like a defective bomb, you'll never blow up
So just scurry in front of that movin dump truck, you're fucked.
*And is his screen name.


MB* steady up and tune your voice to treble
Take a break and ponder, my man, you ain't no rebel
Just full of hot air with not enough to rise
The only thing rollin hard here is the rest of the worlds eyes
And what's this about me travelin solo?
Even when I'm alone there's still something else in my home
Its the rhyme, the rhythm, the bass, the beat
It's the talent, the tactics, the love, and the magic
I got it all, and I got it twofold
So quit worshiping the moon, and bow to your new Lord.
*MB, an abbreviation of Moonbiscuit, his screen name


Cream?*
Well, I'm drownin in something, but it sure ain't sweet
It's nasty, I'm nauseuous
Has anyone seen my appetite? I lost it!
Someone, anyone, rescue me from this cesspool
I'm too pretty to die
take this fool
My lifelines are beginning to drop
My breathing is slowing, my heart just stopped
Gotta hand it to you my man, your words are killer
Kinda like Jason or those zombies in Thriller
It's a bit different though, in a different way, it doesn't quite fit
You kill slow and boring
You kill with shit
*He said "my words are cream."



There he goes again
A-N-D actin witty, forgettin he's shitty
Must be the ADD or some wicked PCP
Cause man your flow is so vile and polluting it's givin off CFCs
Oh look at that, Sherpa* knows his science
He too knows acronyms and can bullshit up one-liners
But it's no biggie, It ain't hard, in fact it's a cop out
show me some real skills man, let your God damn monster out
Stop and listen, take notes if you're feelin
Rethink your style, Cause bro there's not much you're achievin'
Quit twittlin your asshairs and get shit right
Cause you ain't gonna win this motherfuckin fight.

MB, slow down, hit the ground and rewind
The mid 90's man? You got a problem with Pharcyde?
You better DRRRROP what you're doin and start to recognize
the fire and ice I spit will leave you speechless, with tears in your eyes

So Listen up, brother man, lemme show you what's what
It's like I'm a pro golfer, and this is putt-putt

You're stuck on grammar like it's some big achievement**
Hey, you passed public school, way to go, genius!
I'll rip up your adjectives, lines and adverbs
I'll murder your rhymes, and humiliate your words

It's a joke, you're about as Hardcore as Cyndi Lauper
Time after Time, rhyme after rhyme
Your skills have nothing to offer.
* Sherpa, my screen name
**Calling people out for Misspellings.



It's time to throw a phoenix down to you clowns
Bring back this thread from the dead and show off my crown
I'll bone all ya'll asses whether I'm gay or not*
I'll make you go from aggressive to passive
I'll cum/come out on top (Ohhh...) **

I take no pity on scoundrels vagrants and thieves
Biting styles and callin themselves the big bad OG

And has a passion for little twin sisters****
Don't you dare reproduce
Try running with scissors

MB has an ass whiter than Rabbit in 8 mile
If only he could get something else to shine like that, like his rhymes or his style
But I know he won't, not when he's gettin boned so much by me
Because the only thing shining on this sucker is the HIV.***

*I was accused of *ahem* fornicating with a fellow forum user betwixt the buttocks.
** I absolutely hate the word "cum", but this was too good.
*** I fully realized I was knocking myself when I wrote this, but I am a laugh whore. (I succeeded too, apparently)
****A reference to "tell yo sis had a good time." between two other users

All right, if the phoenix down can't excite your rhymes, here's an elixir
Or maybe here, take this
blurry images of dicks in lomo pictures*
Cause I know that'll excite you, it'll excite you something sweet
Maybe you'll finally start rollin hard
If you know what I mean

Resuscitate your mind, get some air to your brain
Refrain from fronting, you can't end my reign
You're imagining fantasies that you want to have happen**
You're imagining skills that you are just lackin
Come out of the closet, come down from your castle
You're living in a hip hop homosexual wonderland
Hell, even snoop knows you got problems, man**
* I was told to use a lomo camera to take a picture of my gay escapades.
** Following the previous rhyme I did, the (very predicted) onslaught of scenarios of my antics ensued quite freely.
*** The user's avatar was a picture of Snoop shaking his head goin "aw, hell naw."

Alright folks, enough with the gay jokes
I know I started it
but now we're gettin out of it
Christopher Lowell has feelings too
And you don't know if he's browsing around these forums, do you?
So let's cut it and talk about how much better I am than you two goons.
Cause that's really all we're doin, that's really why we're here
I'll make you dopes feel worse than when you step up to a mirror

You say I'm different, and God damn right
I'm different in every way, I'm too glorious to explain in one night
And, Maybe all that pot is fuckin with your perception
Because true hip hop, I don't think you make the connection
You too MB, Hell will freeze before I ever go crunk
that style is fraud, I got it debunked

Quit spittin fuel because I'm about to spit fire
The tremors you feel will reach from here to Mount Zion
Ya'll words are painful to hear, like "Grandma has a cancerous liver"
Well shit, what else is new, I guess go figure

I'll drop these rhymes like dimes from a tower
Hit you in the top of your skull with em
Laughin while you cower

And, it's true No one's ever in here except you me and MB*
But the time is now
For your sorry candy asses to leave

But savor the moment you sheep, because your looking at a king
The most fantastic hip hop head will always be me.
*A reference to a small conversation about how no one is ever in the rhyme thread except me and two others.

Somebody check my nervous system, cause man I ain't feelin it.
These weak ass rhymes couldn't possibly entice, not with this weak shit
Boring, Line for line ya'll fading like printers low on ink
Fill some talent in those cartridges, cause damn ya'll stink

I'm not trying to be a badass here, that just comes natural
Like a man of science, I bring reality, my skill is factual
But like a Hip Hop God, I also bring Hell
So wake up from your smoked up ego spell

It's time you respect your betters
Cause with me in this game you just don't measure



Boy don't even start me on the sins I've committed
I've bitten flesh off puppies and sacrificed kittens
I've painted my house red by chucking babies at the wall
I've sliced open chests and sucked life with a crazy straw
I've slept with God's angels and partied with Demons
Man fuck you, you've crossed the wrong heathen

So take this advice and take it to heart
Watch who you beef with
Hip Hop isn't just a game, it's fuckin black art.
*Editors note: I have not bitten flesh off of puppies, I'm not a monster. (Just kittens.)

(Freewriting) Proximal electricities and a lack of chairs

I think I'm going to go ahead and try and do this as much as I can from now on. For those that missed it, this is all raw and unedited writing, me writing the very first thing that pops into my brain. It hardly makes too much logical sense but it does in other ways. Sorry/Enjoy.

Ellis can't speak a word to the ladies. He gets kicked in the balls a lot so all that comes out of his mouth is stuttering helium. It is like he had voice reduction surgery, what a silly little boy Ellis is. To me, there is nothing more puny and tasteless than those who seek to disprove themselves, take a bite out of crime and expect to be thanked for it. Not everyone wants a celebrity to worship, and not everybody wants a gun to hold or a chain to rock around your threads or your ankle, for that matter. Take me to the place where I was born, I miss it, I wonder what time it is twenty one years ago. Will it be cold when I go back? How many chairs will they have, will there be enough? Sometimes something as simple as that can ruin an entire evening, even for the scumsucking miscreants.

The bump on my knuckle smiled at me today, because I bumped it again earlier. It grew a little, it grew because I had hit it. I abused it and it grew in size and character, and mass and personality. It was my child living on my hand, watching my every move and doing everything that I do. It got annoying so I covered it, hid it away because I was ashamed of it, I wanted nothing to do with it, but I knew it was still smiling under all the mess I had covered it with. To these days that I live I can only wonder what the people behind the mirrors must think, if they regret watching me or if they are even more amused than they were when they first started. How will I ever know? I know nothing of the art, only of the exhibit. Bring me back to where I belong, the crib that brought me here and maybe I can recall a little more, something that you might be able to use at the end of your movie, a real page turner.

There are several small animals that run around my feet in circles, like little whirlwinds of proximal electricity. I don't know how they got there but I have grown accustomed to how they act towards me, like I am one of them, it gives a nice warmth that no one would really understand, I doubt I even do myself. But the animals seem to understand, they seem to understand a lot. They have twisted more than anyone I have ever seen, and still not even thrown a punch. They don't have the guts to, or maybe they are just smarter than that. Who is to say whats left is left, we only know that because we say it is so. For a moment I thought Mona Lisa was right, but now I see that she isn't even that pretty.

(Freewriting) Dying gorillas and beauty

It's times like this that scare me enough to take myself to the doctor, bring me to the brink of satisfaction and then quickly revoke my status, take me back to life and back to the hell that wrought itself upon me in the first place. It's an iron bar that no man can ever pull up or walk across, an anvil that just keeps falling, never breaking through ice or ground, a chimney without smoke or fire, wood without termites or love. It lies deep inside as something organic, something alive, something sucking the life out of you but doing it because it thinks it is right, like a preacher or one of those guys that wear the apocalypse signs over themselves. It loves you because you are beautiful, you are a kin to the lord and savior, you just don't know yet.

Once when I was little I bit fire with an open mouth, it was painful. It tasted delicious but it was too horrible for anyone to intervene, and maybe just too amusing to stop. It was a time where I thought I was transitioning myself into something better, or maybe taking a trip to a new plane of existence, somewhere where I thought I had never been before. A fiery world full of mystery and intrigue, somewhere a child only dreams of in stories and fables. It turns out history was right, caucasions are the devil and only books with blank covers can be the truth. But it takes a while to get used to it, I don't know why but for some it just does. To be or not to be, some people will never see.

Today I was a murderer. It flew about my room buzzing and crawling, screaming for help in garbled little flips of conversation, but it was too high pitched for me to understand. He seemed hostile so I ran at first, i ran to get my gun. I came back and he was running in circles, running towards the light like a man with a death-wish, scaring me even more by the look in his eyes, his many eyes that seemed to reflect the red ways of the Potomac Indians that used to haunt my dreams and my family and the house they were born in. It took me a while but I killed him, I killed it, and now I forget every day to bury him, soon it will be too late and he will be covered by all the clothes and magnificence that my room seems to spawn day by day, like a trade salesmen at an auto show or a God working on creating a new world, a new playground for the other kids that he takes care of every day. He has better things to do than worry about animals killing eachother.

Bring life to the incompetent, bring will to the homeless, bring us a world to live in and maybe we will change for the better. Sometimes it's like that, ill set and full of intrigue, it just takes a moment to reset your mindset, it just takes a few minutes, years, to bring yourself to recognize that there are people worse off than you, with flies and giraffes and battle axes strewn across their streets and with flies and other terrible things nipping at their heels, like dead wives and the ghosts of their mothers. Like any outdated technology, spirituality is a grieving process given only to the strong, those who can handle it. It is a lovely way to live but a horrible way to die. The eighty years in between are not so bad if you just learn to cope with your fellow man.

Take me to the hospital, I am sick and the gorilla next to me has an awful cough, he may be dying. It is cold outside and our feet are falling off, give us shelter and food, we are hungry for something other than the flesh the world keeps giving us, it's old and grey and tastes like boiled socks, an awful dirty thing. It is probably a sin to eat such a thing, it fills my mouth with a stench so horrible and ghastly I feel I might keel over and writhe myself to death or drive myself to a coma, it is just that bad. Please doctor, let me in the hospital, I need to go to sleep, I need to just take a moment to relax and breathe, the world needs to stop while I catch up and tend to a few things, like my gorilla. He is sad and needs a few more friends, his home has burnt down and for a while there I thought he might just go on a rampage. I think he has a crush on you. Please let us in, we really are hungry.

I apologize for a few things, but you know I have only good intentions. Sometimes it takes the world or a rampant lord of God or trilogy of terror and doom to just say it's all whack and cut it off, end it, just drive it to the end of the earth and chuck it into the bush below. It really burns me up sometimes, deep in my gut I can feel it welling up, getting bigger, a psycho somatic tumor just waiting to explode and release it's toxins into the air. For the love of God do not breathe them in, they will make you remember things you just do not want to hear, things too intense and beautiful for any human to comprehend or understand. It is like hearing the voice of God, you will die instantly. You will not only die, you will be mortified and sent somewhere besides heaven or hell, a grown up timeout in the far reaches of space and time. I forget what they call it but they call it something sweet. Sometimes the devil has parties there and drinks green tea and eats fruit off apple trees and throws up afterwards. The fruit is bitter and sweet, it takes about three minutes for the party to go in full swing. Sometimes I wish I was zen.

There was a time thirty years from now when I was petting my dog, he was made of metal and steel and barked very little. Once when we went for a walk he crapped out fire and that made me laugh, I love the future.

To me, nothing is more dear than the sign at the end of the roads in India that say "bring back the house rules". Sometimes it makes people angry but I like it. To a man with no teeth, no job, and no prospects it would be something terrible, something he would take to his home and burn in gasoline and beat with a crowbar, it is like that only more complicated, something much more pristine and vulgar, I can't even begin to explain it but it will always be there, that authentic bitterness of the east, they will always have it, not everybody is a winner, not everybody can open up the key to pandora and live in a box forever, the genies of the south can tell you that, they will always know what it's like to be used, to be opened up and enslaved, it is an awful thing that only a number of true billions will be able to write about and describe in readable context. It takes finesse.