Wut U Bout

[bwizzle8]

rep whateva u feelin right now, spit yo game, hood, braud, whateva the fuk u wanna so jus go

[-Alk-]

hmmmm.

I'm bout bomb weed with no stems, no seeds, no crackin'
And smackin wack emcees that change game like Bo Jackson
I'm also bout fast cars and reliable women
No snake tongued bitches out tryin' to preach their religion

[Sir Bustalot]

i round to the nearest denominator
smoke some bomb marijuana an hour later-
moved through fluid in my bong and blaze 'er....
i dont write the song, im what ya call a song sayer
i like to play my games by moving the wrong player
i move through taller, greener grasses and higher hills
be ready for what my thoughts heat amasses-
because the height of my fire thrills!
I aspire for more kills, highwire rhymin fa more skills
i explore wills of men and many-
id say more than half pretendin their pens are ready
what im sendins heavy with weight like a lifetime
im like the heavenly gates opening with a nice chime
I write wine, a poet in the greatest sense
thats feeling a need to polish the iris of the faded lense
what i say depends, on fluid textures thats watery
bringin together rhymes with unique mixtures of comradery

[ElLoserkit]

I'm rhyme, i shine, pack nines, attack kind, attack blind/
you can't attack mine, from sunset to sunshine, skills stay refined//
the killer kind, injure your spine, injure your kind, injure your mind/
injure your dentures in due time, leave you screwed fine//
but not from houston, introducin'/
Keep it Looser than a pussy beat from the constant pushin'//
constant swooshin', constant hoopin', constant loopin/
constant mute'n, constant suwoopin', constant parachutin'//

[Slaying Hyuse]

i aint from the south but I feel like gettin my southern drawl on...

I'm bout them jet black Magnums with a Hemi in the hood
every block gettin money my whole city is a hood
I'm bout cake wit new faces Redbones that can touch the Flo'
watchin Paid in Full from the tub while i'm puffin dro
I'm bout my walkie talkie when it chirps thats money comin in
2 for 15 they love the price so they come again
I'm bout friday nights at the bar gettin wet
hold the bottle in my right hand dick in my left
I'm bout my fresh cut caesar waves like crop circles
the doors open up an the insides purple
I'm bout the whole state of Mass. up north it gets cold
when the cost of living rise so do the death toll
niggas bang chrome that'll turn day to night
if you close enough you might get hit wit a lead pipe

[prophetional]

fed right, what i write, sped right past the cops
my life, now it's all about my wife and nice spots
since i was a kid with speakers spliced, rice in the pot
jammin' to some krs, ghetto boyz and tupac
came a long way no more corners packin' that glock
now i got that M4 with military type talks!
4 year old daughter, mother whom i love with my heart
close to touching everything i've dreamed of back since the start
suckin' up the ways of life, watched too many depart
i'll make it happen by myself and still i never will narc.

[Linxz]

shyt is major chopping quarterz wit razorz showing life SCAREZ
cause grinding on the blade is hard feel like im lost witout a GOD
reason why little kids running wit squadz to make SOMETHING
outta nothing really should just stop fronting 4 haterz dare to TOUCH
im still standing what having shoot outs wit clucks' not giving a FUCK
so im dolo catz think im loco focus even though thoughts are NEGATIVE
its the price i pay to justify positive its alot to give but a little to TAKE
so wit paitents im waiting dedicating this keystyle to furture ISSUES
that await me but capture you cause this world spins screwing u many TIMES
cant go on angry cause all is fine though some catz eyes are BLIND
so i gotta hold myself together to spit these rhymes leaving bitches BEHIND

What! yea nygga either you show love or you choose to die in vain word up, its on you.

[R3DRUM]

People are talkin, by jayz is what im listenin to/
Ive fucked up my brain, im up on cocaine, which isnt that cool/
Is this the dude, that said he'd never do it/
I just snorted this shit to try and better music/
It didnt do it, is this fluent? i donno bout blow/
My mouth low, dropped open at this freestyle though/
Witha big smile too, i cant believe im runnin this fast/
Missin the old feelin, this rolled blunt i just grasp/
Just to get back, i smoke it, never again fuckin wit that/

[Sir Bustalot]

Just to get back, i smoke it, never again fuckin wit that

whip crack, lip smashed, nobody can get past
a lashing so violent it will leave ya hips dashed
i spit ash, an they keep flying out bodies-
to all the different regiments of *M*A*S*H*
if i ever left the cipher id leave a void probly
i spit for hobbies, leap buildings to avoid bobbies
never saw me, i spit with talent and raw steez
the breaths i draw freeze, cold and collected
bold with phat rhymes nervously perfected
purposely injected, like the black tar of hip hop
im so dope yall is token like the black czar of brit pop
feel ripped off? its cuz all the shits soft
while i put out hits like the pissed mob
my fist robs humans of life, grave robba
behave proppa or theyll be exhuming you and my knife
I get high all off a days drama, im oozing with nice
dont need ta prove that im trife,
while ya on here reading this im doin ya wifes

[R3DRUM]

'ey..Erybody wan' be the PRINCE uh da South/
I cant help giving ding a ling to yo spouse-no doubt/
Sorry at the moment, thats all im bout

[CaTchW0n]

S. Carter told me its about money, cash, hoes
tell that hoe get my money, cuz im about my cash ass holes
my math, flashy clothes, hammers, cellphone
cuz Im well known, and where im from u can catch a shell at home
thats why im about switchin time zones
and beach vacations or throwin down chips in ya indian casino reservation

[6ftground]

I’m about time, times like my brain, it’s always tic “N”
Thinking of a master plan to collect pay from chickens
I’m about me and my tyrants, eluding black violence,
Collecting big faces, eluding new cases
seeing new places, shining rims!–I’m bout spinning them,
I’m about gunning he, who tries to gun at me,
I’m about liven peace, bust “n” rhymes
Living fine, got me a forty and a Phat ass dime

[ThePussyMonster]

im bout makin cash from sun up 2 sun down/
even if that mean i gotta load up and pump rounds/
then ima beat these hoes up and slump clowns/
then hit road up so i can get it off in sum towns/
lose weight blow up and puff pounds/
so wut im all about iz that c.r.ea.m. and thats the real deal/
and ima get it even i gotta get like juelz on sum murda murda kill kill/

[Memento]

good, bad, ugly, it's all the same
entangled by this so called game, i choose life
it really doesn't go by any other name, don't lose sight
if i could take this world over one piece at a time
i still wouldn't have peace of mind, i wouldn't be satisfied
these blackened skies reign over me
i'm utterly discouraged by pain & poverty
on the local scene i'm invisible to the majority
inferiority is at war with me, each year i'm disgusted quarterly
now if i can change the story to the better side
the truth of these passages are hounded by clever minds
inside my brain is a masochist left dumbfounded by
my imperial presence tied to the essence
the files in reference conclude my intelligence
and the roads i could pave contrary to the negligence
of what the conditions of this brutal world has enslaved
the life with no other name has been saved
good, bad, ugly, it's all the same