so u hate fake thugs too//look heres anotha one wait its you//u say u hate fake banging//but u also say u got a strap hanging//now u got me mixed up//u gotta be kiddin cuz ur shits up//u rhymes isnt right its contradicting//u got no story that u stickin//u like them sayin u got tha gun//aimin at people makin them run//u see thats some bullshit//so listen heres a stool..sit//u see i dont rep that im a gangsta//u just think u hood cuz ya mom neva spanked ya//i spit some tru rhymes//not fabricated like ur lines//u say u got homies wit glocks//but u know thats a lie but u aint turnin back clocks//u cant take back wat u jus said//u cant kill nobody u made none bled//what really confuses me//how can u be a certified G//wit a name like MATT//sweet that is and u also rap//crap...i thought u got a strap//but were u gonna shoot and aim at//u cant so where gonna put tha blame at//is it who...is it him..is it MTV//is it you..is it em..or is it BET//u'll neva hear me reppin that im a thug//got friends in gangs but u dont see me sellin those drugs//i know tha hood cuz i live in one//but i neva rhyme that im a thug cuz spit truth son//u think u got street cred when u got none//this is the beginning i aint done//i spit lyrical words that'll abuse you//rhymes with spritual verbs and i can use two//lines that'll hurt ur morality//this fake thug thing is a normality//except me everyone here thinks they hard//i bet see that wont go far//u think u raw and u think u tough//u cant be smooth and u cant be rough//u nuthin cuz ur voiced is muffed//u cant say anythin cuz ur mouth is stuffed//u try to rhyme but now u chokin//im steady laughin u must be jokin//i gotta quit spittin cuz now its ur turn//spit somethin good before u get burned//
//IF U DONT KNOW IT//IM NOT A RAPPER//IM A POET//
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MOS..at your 4th bar i stoped readin..dawg your shit is wacker than wack you deceive me..matter of fact why dont you suck a dick..i dont give a fuck man you make me sick..just the way your mom when she sucks my dick..you little prick shut the hell up..b4 i bitch slap you back to where ever you from..you fuck with me you causing big problems..and dont consider yourself a poet cause you aint..and if you still believe you are well you suck as fuck..your rhymes are worth a buck..not even who the fuck would buy or listen to your shit..and who ever does it means you sucked enough dick..to make them suffer to listen to your shit man im being honest..i aint bothering writting my best..im just laying shit down one word at a time..i dont give a fuck if you think its a louzy rhyme..cause i really dont quite give a damn..i got your mom down in her knees with one hand on my cock..screaming out loud that i rock..she still thinks id pay her after the 4th time..but for real though she aint worth a dime..
im out mr.poet..aka..mr.fagget
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This the new improved hoop hop
I make ev'ry mu'fukka in this bitch, do the wop
Dirty run his mouth til the album drop
Why's that? Trak Boy beats like a free bricker Caine on the block
I'm 17 name ain't the same on the block
And peter knock the nigger out his frame on the block
And he'll come through and let it rain on the block
And all they gots to say is its a shame on the block
I'm hot homeboy, don't ever get it twisted
Numbers unlisted stayed in third district, for real
I'm ready to get naughty, best of both worlds so Hey Shawty
Show me the party, and I'll show you the coke
I can show you my dick you can show me your throat
If a nigga trip, then we can show him the '4
If a niggas run up to you we can show him some mo'
Now I wish a nigga would run up like that
Man i put that on the hood I'mma strike back
And niggas talk shit but i don't like that
Sayin all like Gee but I ain't write that
And maybe mamma's man ain't about shit
Basically what i'm sayin dude fuck a bitch
And if I had two i'd touch a bitch
In the same breath, turn around and touch a clit
And nigga if i said it, i fuckin meant it
And nigga if it's rented i ain't fuckin in it
Track boys give me money so i fuckin spend it
Ya'll rollin the spreewell but not the authentics
And fuck your fuckin '4 and your roof clown
I got shit that'll turn your fuckin coupe round
You ain't heard i'm the troop now
By the fact, hook gonna break it down
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white boy tim...
u sound like u live on a farm
u sound like u live off ur mom
ur a broke crack smoker someboy ring the alarm
i see u only rap loca never droppin a bomb
i herd u like masterbatin while watchin the telli
callin 1-800 numbers so u cant afford the bills on ur celli
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chill wit da wack rymes
im the best in the circuit
do tricks for money like ya mom
cause you belong in the circuis
you white tryin to be eminem
thts fine and dandy
cause ill eat you on this microphone like fuckin candy
you see two verses all ready got you torn you should stop actin black and listen to ossi osborn
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Look at MOS tryin to act all hard and shit
"I'm not a rapper, I'm a poet" bitch suck a dick
Your rhymes made me cry tears of agony
Then again, I love it when fake nigga's like you laugh at me
You just gave me something to laugh back at
Reppin no hood but your bitch ass still gets clapped at
Same shit new line your rhymes is redundant
I'll send you down, underground where big pun went
Some fake thug shit may be normal to you
But the only thing I speak is the lyrical truth
I'm like a lie detector test nigga you just failed
If your shit was free you wouldn't make one sale
The name is just somethin for me to make famous
While you sittin around with your thumb in your anus
Tellin your friends you got beat by Sweet Matt
As a matter of fact thats why you want to battle rap
Sure kid, you can have my autograph
In a minute though, let me get out a good laugh
When you come to my show I'll sign your backstage pass
I'll sign it "Dear MOS, I just whooped your mother fuckin ass"
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Sweet matt ur name fits u well//
ur sweet as fuck and the sent of pussy is ur smell//
somebody kill this faggot or hack his computer//
tell em how u used to suck dick in the sewer//
anal fisting sucking off cuba goodin junior//
the thought of u makes me vomit and bad trip//
cuz ur image is uglyer then acne on a fat bitch//
u know how real niggas come through and stack chips//
got no problem hollerin at this or even that chick//
my style e'll make ur wifey give it up fast quitck//
u! ur dick is to small she just likes it when u ass lick//
me! i could get ur mother on the matress//
since i did it once i could do it twice and video cam it//
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Oh shit since when did pocket change talk back
You rap to make a buck to go buy some mo' crack
I noticed you real quick to call me a faggot
Infact that's all you said so I think you like to ram it
In the ass of unready kids when it turns dark
Askin them to help you find your puppy at the park
Only queer I've battled to talk about another man's dick
That Cuba Gooding bullshit was a little too sick
Nobody wants to hear what you dream about in bed
You like a bitch, bleedin for one week but still, you aint dead
Internet 50 cent, you annoying like pop up ads
LOOK EVERYBODY THE ONLY RAPPER THAT'S A MEMBER OF THE KLAN
I try to keep my shit simple
But then you pop off like a pimple
You think you cute like a demple
If we ever met I'd leave you cripled
You probably would resort to a hack
It's only because you're ashamed your not black
I'm ashamed you're white, shit I'm ashamed you're a human
Who can't take a battle without always fumin'
This shit ain't nothin but a game to me
But you wouldn't understand nigga cuz you ain't G
Talkin bout names yours can hardly buy a soda
While I'm battin at the bitches harder than Sammy Sosa
You don't know about Sweet Matt? Ask your girl, she do
Tore that ass up last night, now she wont be limpin back to you
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Y'all need to stop pretending to be G's
before I rip open your skin worse than a flesh eating disease
I love defeating MC's one at a time.
I spit a verse and leave you speachless like a mime.
So who the fuck want to get put to shame next
I heard sweet matt likes to fuck the same sex
And internet fifty cent, what kinda name is that
I dont think I've ever heard anything as lame as that.
maybe your in love with fifty cent and badly obsessed.
As soon as you see him you want to get undressed and molest him.
But you better be careful cuz that shit can get you arrested.
So just confess it please, you dont really want to mess wit the best MC
you'll get left to bleed to death you best believe
And the last thing I say to you will be , " Rest in Peace".
Remember bitch my name's Ballistic
Don't get it twisted
I'm not a doctor but I get your face lifted.
Holla Back Bitches!!!
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Nigga I'll ballistically rip you to shreads
You say you G but you rockin the swap meet threads
I don't think one line of that shit rhymed
It don't take much effort, try a little bit next time
I've heard better sounds sitting down to take a shit
You mistakin if you think you made a hit
Compared to you that pocket change nigga's tight
You're about as original as darkness at night
Half your lines ended with the word "that"
Here's a new word, it fit's you, I call it "crap"
I'm the teacher nigga you just the student
I could have not replied and you'd still lose it
Thinkin you tuff cuz you beat Def Jam Vandetta
Come to Long Beach and I'll show you a Baretta
Show you the berrel as it looks you in the head
The world egg's me on cuz they'd like you more dead
How about from now on we call you "rerun"
You're the third episode again but the season's been done
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KID u wanna insult my rhyme//when u use dick twice on da same line//wait u must like sayin the word//cuz u mentioned it like five times a heard//insult my line when urs is shit//wipe all that crap heres a towel bitch//go ahead talk bout my mom dat dont get me mad//when u were born with no mom but two gay dads//to u it its no bother//cuz ur with them takin a shower//oh no heres comes ur daddy//u gotta do yo thing so u took off ur panty//enuff with ur gay life//now lets start the real fight//what do u think emcees are doin//u must not have a clue in//hip-hop u must not know em//cuz emcees write mutha fuckin poems//rhymin is what is called poetry//u rhymin retard tryin to gloat at me//enuff with ur half brain lines//u nothin but a laughed blamed mime//cuz u a joke tryin to spit a whole verse//u can write more but it'll get worst//line afta line of the same rhyme//time afta time im top prime//Kids must be laughin at KIDDY//he aint bad boy like diddy//he jus a boy who trys to be witty//he watches BET and trys to be like fi'tty//okay back to ur gay situation//u got shocked when daddy caught u in masterbation//wit gay porno tape on//but yo daddy got is rape on//so u act tuff to cover ur bad childhood//now u spittin and thinkin ur styles hood//heres monopoly go and play kid//go back to da closet were the gays hid//
//IF U DONT KNOW IT//IM NOT A RAPPER//IM A POET//
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those who talk bout bein G//is like ho's be buzzin like bees//Matt's fake persona is gettin looked up//he thinkin that his rhyme got me shooked up//but yet u didnt budge me//i look at ur rhymes but i see a smudge see//ur rhymes is gettin distorted//lines that is tha same not assorted//u think u won but who told u that//i didnt even spit anotha one before u put tha champ is back//but wait i cant see the fire//go ahead and call me a liar//cuz u know ur words is fruitless//ur whole street rhyme is truthless//u cant bring yo homies cuz ur groups messed//u prayin to god but guess whos blessed//im not reppin im a G and im not cursed//im tha only one that speaks tha tru verse//so muthafucka go and try to clap me//but wait i told u dat u got no strap B//stop actin like u got crimes dat u dont do//and all that bullshit bout guns that u wont shoot//cant smoke none but a pack of squares//this aint poker ur luck aint a stack of pairs//u rhymin like u da king of rap//when ur actually u a queen of crap//flap yo ass like a birdie do//fly befo i pluck yo feathers u heard do//now lets get to ur lyrics thats more like shit//100% more fakes lines everytime u sit//take a bite from these u'll get hooked//spit like u a thug with ya rhyme book//okay i'll stop and start da real battle//got beef bitch u must be tha cattle//yo bitch get ready to saddle//fuck it ur in deep no use for a paddle//drop dis fake actin//shit u got no heat that u packin//muthafucka thinkin u got flame//wait shit i forgot ur name//is it SWEET BITCH or SWEET MATT//u mutha fucka sayin i gotta beat that//ur rhymes it aint hot shit its freezin//u gotta stop rhymin u gotta start breathin//ur waistin time cuz u'll never be good//so stop rhymin stop actin u hood//read these lines u better learn//tha da only time ur hot is when ur gettin burned//my lyrical abuse has got to stop//u cant burn me cuz im already hot//
//IF U DONT KNOW IT//IM NOT A RAPPER//IM POET//
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Here comes sweet matt with another weak rap not knowin I keep the heat packed with 3 gats
And a pump in the trunk ready to dump on the first chump funkin
So I can come up and punk him.
Fuck Long Beach bitch I'm from Fresno I undress hoes and caress mo titties than lesbos.
Your just a fuckin wanna be you aint neva even seen a a gun
What you know about gangstas bitch cuz I'm the meanest one
You neva hurd'a murda but I've seen it done
Your the type that hear gun shots and scream and run
I dont care what you know about this gang bangin shit
I originated it you'll get eliminated quick
just an intimidated bitch who thinks he can beat me
It's not as easy as me getting your mom on her knees to please me
Because its effortless to fuck that heifer bitch and when I pull out my knife your head will get severed quick
Thats what you get for being so bitch made
I'll shoot you with a tech than cut your neck with a switch blade
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Best rapper alive dun di di di dun dun Best rapper alive
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September 30 2004, 8:53 PM
HEY BALLISTIC I AINT COPY SHIT OF J-KWON I WROTE IT LAST NITE
I probably owe it to y'all, proud to be locked by the force
Tryin to hustle some things, that go with the Porsche
Feelin no remorse, feelin like my hand was forced
Middle finger to the law, nigga grip'n my balls
All the ladies they love me, from the bleachers they screamin
All the ballers is bouncin they like the way I be leanin
All the rappers be hatin, off the track that I'm makin
But all the hustlers they love it just to see one of us make it
Came from the bottom the bottom, to the top of the pots
Nigga London, Japan and I'm straight off the block
Like a running back, get it man, I'm straight off the block
I can run it back nigga cause I'm straight with the Roc
Your homey Hov' in position, in the kitchen with soda
I just whipped up a watch, tryin to get me a Rover
Tryin to stretch out the coca, like a wrestler, yessir
Keep the Heckler close, you know them smokers'll test ya
But like, fifty-two cards when I'm, I'm through dealin
Now fifty-two bars come out, now you feel 'em
Now, fifty-two cars roll out, remove ceiling
In case fifty-two broads come out, now you chillin
with a boss bitch of course S.C. on the sleeve
At the 40/40 club, ESPN on the screen
I paid a grip for the jeans, plus the slippers is clean
No chrome on the wheels, I'm a grown-up for real
Your boy back in the building, Brooklyn we back on the map
Me and my beautiful beeeeeeeitch in the back of that 'Bach
I'm the realest that run it, I just happen to rap
I ain't gotta clap at 'em, niggaz scared of that black
I drop that +Black, Album+ then I back, out it
As the best rapper alive nigga ask about me
From Bricks to Billboards, from grams to Grammys
The O's to opposite, Orphan Annie
You gotta pardon Jay, for sellin out the Garden in a day
I'm like a young Marvin in his hey'
I'm a hustler homey, you a customer crony
Got some, dirt on my shoulder, could you brush it off for me?
Uhh what!! best rapper alive dun di di dun dun di di dun di di dun dun di di dun best rapper alive
WHitte boyy tim ~one~
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You mutha fucka's remind me of Dawn of the Dead
You try to bite but not before I blow off ya head
Mos is just a "poet" rhymin about homo dad's
You took too many showers in Folsom cuz homie you sound like the fag
I ain't gotta say shit ya'll delete yourselves
The kinda shit I look at once then put back on the shelves
I ain't gonna argue "Rerun" does get hoe's
Pay's them in secret but bitch, everybody knows
What's this Fresno? I can't find it on the map
Oh wait, it's under "nigga's who can't rap"
You two should take a lesson from white boi tim
If you steal Jay-Z's shit you just might win
But wait yall some gangsta's... right and I'm Moses
I'll part ya'll motha fuckaz and walk by unnoticed
MOS... my kid brother can rap better than you
The best thing about it, the nigga's only two
If you look close I only said dick one time
But you can't read I guess, hey that's fine
Real poetry has no rhyme just meaning
Yours is about as useful as 10 retards singing
And rerun, shut up before I bust open your lip
Sayin I never seen a gun, nigga you never seen a tit
The only guns I see are the two in my palm
You won't see em either but for a second then you'll be gone
Mos and rap, that's just wrong nigga you fell off
I find more meaningful words when some homeless nigga starts to cough
Just admit it bitches, taste the defeat
Next time you try look next to "f12", you'll find "delete"
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Your always right I swear you cant be wrong
But your old news now your ancient your old
As I fulfill my legend like a refill
Cause I be always moving forward heading towards my steeple
My life’s a series of stepping-stones or lids
I be climbing to reach the top of the pyramid
Some times I’m winning others I’m holding back
But no doubt I be picking up the slack
Keep it taunt so u aren’t falling back
With out me you’d be unable to receive but always believe
The meaning behind the rhymes I conceive
Or give life to ill excite u you may be old but I’m new
Ill never lose myself im always in control
And if I do ill flip all I need
Is some mind-altering soul to succeed?
Music to me is like a head spin to a smoker
An adrenaline rush to a thrill seeker
A great save from a goalkeeper
Or the feeling of love that is forever deeper
I’m Always going further
Whether im up on stage or battling thru the Internet server
Ill enlighten you and it’ll tighten u
Ill say things so true that it’ll frighten u
Cause im always real
With the rhythm and the feel
Cause with out it your nothing
Like catching a fish without a reel
Like a circus a pool a ball but no seal
With out a thought at all Ill preach my message to u all
Cause ignorance ain’t bliss it’s only our down fall
Women are difficult so hard to under stand
1 after 1 they’ll captivate and extract bit by bit from a man
In either form his car money or his land
But that’s only 1 side of the coin
Cause life’s more deep then thought in just 1 hand
A material asset
Even a classic self-destructible conventional facet
Don’t complain it isn’t always greener
Work with your strengths but ill always be keener
My rhymes more cleaner
With more integrity and meaning
Don’t be to sure watch what you’re claiming
Cause there’s always some 1 better
If ya feel that way u can write it in a letter
Then burn it but don’t forget to forgive
Cause aint bloody short
It’s the longest thing you’ll ever fucking live
Find your own runs find your own rhythm
Then define them then deliver them
This composition that I give em
Is developed here at home
As that’s the only place where you’re your self in your own zone
All these people caught up in a world of science fiction
Wondering what it all means to make 1 simple decision
Ill give u my philosophy well educated prediction
Life ain’t worth the time if ya ponder ova stupid questions
Cause you’ll be happy you’ll be sad
You’ll be angry you’ll be glad
Your thoughts are a whirlpool that’ll bloody drive u mad
When you’re awake at night with some thing on your mind
Turn the TV on and you’ll find piece of mind
Cause the whole world doesn’t care about your stupid problems
Their probly nothing compared to what the scores can lob them
If ya battle me ya’ll be stalling like a car coughing like a chimney
Your rhymes wont take u far
Cause ill just be there where ever u are.
What if we were only 1 part of a master plan?
Like a grain of sand or 1 enthusiastic fan
Cause we cant be the only evolution to ever be evolved
Though this is a mystery that I’ll never ever solve.
Like physics and chemistry seem to be the same
Though 1s real big and 1s real small and both have different names
As every thing is equal as everything is opposite
The extent of our universe and of the smallest atom composite.
Give me a bass and a set of drums
I’ll devise a code that’ll make ya’ll hum
Cause music is my fuel for my ever-burning fire
And lyrics are my means of preserving my thoughts that elevate me higher
I’m on top and I’ll cover you like a glove
As I’m another level far far above
While others are sitting here studying and revising
I’ll be here writing and developing beats for ya’ll to sing
To make an impact here with your voice
You have to be original and have a flow that’s fresh and choice
Cause I’ll never bite, my rhymes are nothing but insight
My outlook on life, my sharp impact like a blade on a knife.
MCNME
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You copied two songs that they played on BET. Everyone on this site probably watches BET. Your so fuckin stupid!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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yo this REMIX steppin' in, yall muthafukaz stop rappin' online
yall gotta keep it real and spit true rhymes
ive read all your lines,i dont give a damn if dey betta dan mines
i aint no friggin' hack, if you thot i was, den you on crack
yall b talkin bout dicks, yall b lookin at too much gay flicks
yall muthafukaz get off da stage, cuz i finna burst in some rage
yall dunt wanna pick a fight wit me, i already got a problem in my own rivalry
you besta' get yo crew cuz u aint no match for me,
yall b screamin' for mercy on your fuckin' kneez
we finna finish this shit 'fore da popoz come
yall gon' end up at home suckin' your thumbz
next time u mess wit us u betta recognize
cuz if u do, yall b sayin' your lazt goodbyez
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aye this is like 1 of my 1st times so give us sum feed back aye
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October 2 2004, 7:33 PM
Antagonistically i define my thoughts realistically// when im on the mic ill pay you out sarcastically// and leave you for history// in a state of no reception // you’ll be blind with no deception// i hit it back with extrasensory perception
I be dropping in sane flows like acid rain// only ever trying to entertain// I deliver my rhymes via freight train and ignite with combined effect of butane and propane
Just searching for leisure through pleasure
Heading forward with any means risk or measure
Holding close to what you treasure
Whether or not you’re distressed on my quest
You’re my guest to contest and digest
Information found of the Midwest
With suppressed anger what do you suggest?
That I invest, talking as if my message is un-addressed
Is that your request? What you implore
Restore and put your musical score before
What your responsible for just a prisoner of war
The vibration sensation is the foundation
Creation and formation of my frustration
As I harvest rhymes in plantation
That’s my vocation
This congregation and combination
Is cause for celebration of realization?
Of our obligation for preparation for this population
Congratulations if some how you under stood my golden flow
I don’t know but life’s like a puppet show
Nothings free even a penalty free throw
Alright ill break you like led light
Up an gone before 1st light
And out of sight in ones own right
With telescopic sight
Your styles so prevalent
Mines benevolent that leaves you feeling malevolent
Im relevant while your irrelevant
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