//DMS
“Dad, do you think insane people have dreams like normal life and see them like crazy dreams?”
*Kicks the door off its hinges* I say yo
Don’t mistake me for a poet, I’m the dreams of a mental patient
So expect the unexpected and I’ll subvert your expectations
Penned this with a shovel, disgruntled, in need of help
Still dig far into my unconscious, plunging to secret levels
So deep inside my thoughts, I peak upwards and see the devil
Sadist with the pages, rhyming words to beat them senseless
I write each verse like I’m dy’na thirst, if you can’t see Dope’s message,
I’M NOT TRYNNA BE POETIC, I’M JUST ALWAYS EATING PRETZELS!
(I ain’t battled with depression, but I’m strapped to my regression)
All these clowns with big ‘vocabs’ got me laughing until soreness
With half their random babble being grabbed from a thesaurus
I’m the God of war. They better get the nicest helmet
Cuz I’m the wielder of a Flaming Sword I circumcised myself with
I’ll pull up to any wack textcees and they’re getting snapped
Cuz fabricated ‘deepness’ wears my patience thin as spaghetti straps
Y’all can’t fit in my shoes, so kick rocks at the minimum
Writing is an art, and if they jack it I’m zippin’ um
*Takes down the bottle of Jack Daniels. Finishes his note.*
I’m locked and loaded to pop a slow kid with vague jottings
Every time Dope pen’s a line, know that’s he’s grave plotting
‘Cuz I feel stuck with the pen, saddened and dejected
That’s why I penned this whole verse as a rant at my reflection
//Aquasoul
I got Maverick’s back and I’m ready to snap and attack
The smell of death’s in the air - we wreck (reek) havoc on tracks
Do some assault (somersault) like gymnastics, now I’m squeezing the heat
And watch them try to balance when I put a “beam to their feet”
So you could try to challenge thinking you’re the best with the phonics
Until shots are “hurled from a distance” like projectile vomit
I’ll go crazy in matches despite your fame or your status
I’ll lead a “raid on (radon)” rapping - my shit is radioactive
You stay on the wack shit, meanwhile we’re bringing Nagasaki back
Our rhymes are “phat, man” and “drop little boys” - atomic raps
You’re a pain the the ass thinking we’re the same in a match
Thinking you’ll mirror me until I put your face in some glass
So brag about your bars but they’re way simplex
And “painfully (pane fully) see through” like I sprayed windex
You got a mixtape, my man? Maybe I’ll play in jest
Or break your fingers - it’s the only time your tape in decks (index)
I ain’t impressed - get your bars up before you make a threat!
//Maverick
I don't do bots I'm real dope, in this game consistency is the cheat code
Wordsmith, try to beat my aesthetics they'll be like "Is that Remo?"
Let's take it back to '16 when Maz saw my 16's and knew my pen lethal,
I kept that same energy caught in ascendancy to '20 I deserve this ego
Fatally these lazy babies' fate'll be assuming their position's fetal
It's like my arsenal's incognito the way I'm shooting these BB's, for real though
That rhyme had a filla-side line, I'm fantasizing infanticide – a wish not taken for granted once
Like abortion clinics, composed I'm in it, hold up this bitch says she wants me to "wrap it up" !?
I catch a dub when you get washed, no Irish Spring,
Y'all ass ya scrubs, clean the entire thing
String theory bitch I'll flatten every fiber of your being plus your lineage when I let the iron ring
Your whole pride caving in when you step to us motherfucker this the Lion's den
So many rooks with the name King you think that crown is the mane someone lyin' den
These Young Cubs high 'n mighty cuz they see me through the vines 'n go copycats
This no Syndicate you gon' get this work when we do our business on you if y'all don't scat
There's no workaround for it to work out, faggot, you should go apply for SNAP
Diamonds in the rough you wanna steal our spotlight you'll have to perform a heist at us, we're high status
You rhyme "faggots" with "bright mattress, tight asses, & light flashes" – I guess that's just RhymeZone's spy-ads then
Run me my 1's chump, it takes 2 to tango you might have to sneak liquid courage into your punch, for elbow grease I got 3 deckers if you jump
I figure 4 would be what's clutch, so I got 5 on it that you run, when I fire on all 6 cylinders gassing up
So soon as I rev call the Rev for the final send off but even in 7th Heaven you're still shit out of luck
I'm the 8th Wonder of the World man you're just dust to dust, so eat mine I go Mach 9 and I could keep going cuz I have 10 more reasons why you fucking suck
Do sum
//SurkSins
Stay safe from corona virus, guys!
Now, it’s time to cover your coughin’!
Im infecting your set with air you don’t wanna get in your chest
They’ll have to race you to medical attention to help with catching your breath!
You come for the smoke? I spit ill rounds. Let it set in your flesh
Lift you in boxes for pushing my buttons to get a rise
Guess you was pressing for death!
They fear battle. I leave their region unstable when plotting demises
Bringing more bodybags and rounds than ISIS with rifles Obama supplied them!
Amateurs spy this, watch em get caged in the flow. Becoming prisoners drowned in the Tigris.
Im a predator with war on my head, like missiles I’m clouding your sky with
This shit rocks harder and gets darker than caves Bin Laden would hide in
I Seal your fate, like commandos who put the shots through his eyelids
Rhymes tight as hands on Epstein’s throat that wanted him silent
These bars crazy explosive: throwing nukes in a hurricane, that’s Trump solving a crisis./
“Why you wiggin so bad, Surk?”
It’s simply my manner
You’ll go crazy in my head, tryna distinguish the patterns
Been sick of wack acts who claim GOAT, then show out half-ass, like the hips on a satyr
I just don’t feel you pussies! Fucking this game with (w)raps thicker than lamb skin
In the end, I set ya back so far, your rhymes get written in Sanskrit
Let this get in your mind: there’s an image I want envisioned. On Netflix, you can catch it..
You’ll “have your whole life ahead of you” before this round goes through your head, like the kid in “Extraction”
Rest In Peace!
It ain’t a state of euphoria, when I levitate brains from swingin’ this sword at ya!
I’m balancing peace in the soul through this blade that’s adorned with blood
Ain’t gon be warning ya
They can talk bullshit all day
I talk bushido. That’s the way of the warrior!
