Is Woo Child still here:
My real rap name is The FloMan but I used to post here Maaaaaaaaaad Long ago yrs back w/ Woo Child, Con Fusion, Scribala my name was BarDropa some of yall might remember some of yall might nor any way jw if hes still around by the way so I dotn waste the thread here's some verses:
Sick wit it like genital warts wit syphilis
Givin u more oral than Bill Clintons mistress
Tossin these rappas like a discuss
I wrap it aint Christmas I’m gifted
The energy I give this, nobody can give this
I’m focused like a marksman hitlist
Still askin the Lord for forgiveness
Its inappropriate the way I rip this
And split this, like a boat I ship this
Down the creek, right around ya feet
My sound will leak and eventually peak
Til it’s the Andes Mountains
You check the way I flow and say man he’s a fountain
Spittin til Im spitless,
I rip this to shreds, this is for the hedz
Who love the game, love my name
Insect to ya intellect cuz I bug ya brain
One shot deal, yes Im real, and yes I feel
I’m so freckin bananas I peel
Fresh to death like my corpse smells rosey
Showin off like Puffy does his rolley’s
Fall back neva that I stand up
Put ya hands up, verbal stick up
Every freckin time I spit you get up
No choice, ya ears are so moist
Listenin to me,
I got your attention like your ex sayin she got H-I-V
And she infected u
You selected me homie I aint selectin u
I’m wreckin u
The one man Class Wreckin Cru
Cutting these rappas off like a sea section do
You cant contain the verbal poison I inject in u
You twitchin like a heroin addict itchin
Listen, you betta cool it now like new edition
Stop my flow, dead that homeboy
I’m original like weed that’s homegrown boy
I’m in my own zone boy
Like the ozone boy,
Screw technology this is Nateology and that’ll make no clones boy
Hatin on me is a sin, you committed it
Now you gotta pray til ya knees fall away and your shins will split
The boy is nice, the boy is tight
I make a manic depressive parapelegic enjoy his life
If luvin the mic is wrong I don’t wanna be right
Endin these rappas careers do you wanna be Ike
Pick ya favorite faded out rapper you wanna be like
Guarantee afta these few bars you’ll meet em aright see em in sight
Tomorrow is too long, promise you you’ll see him tonite, word on my wife
Cats try to analyze me, why try be
that’s like tryin to figure out why a Jewish man named Hitler became a leader for the Nazi’s
Homie chill, I’m outta this world
The reason it’s takin so long for my CD is cuz im tryin to my lobbito outta ya girl
Paint pictures it’s the verbal Picasso
Only thing dippa then me is either tobacco, tostito’s or Nacho’s
Aggressive like bush for weapons of mass destruction
Tear the freckin beat down and tease it, producers wanna blame me for lyrical seduction
Like a busted ovary I keep cummin
I give you all a bizarre ride to Pharcyde because I keep my Fat Lip runnin
Puerto Ricans hear me spit, and they like “I thought he was dead who brought the Big Puns in”
Lyrics make you cry and laugh like watchin Dave chapelle while cutting an onion
You know my steez, please, if mc’s was tree’s I’m Paul Bunyan
Chopin’en, rockin’ em, before they even spit I’m stopping em give em brown paper bags for they oxygen
They must hate the fetal position, cause I’m always on top of them
Bars I droppin em, yall watchin em,
To this I’m immune, you think my tunes is helium balloons come on you aint poppin em
Take ya timbs off, put on ya sandals on ya cd cover cuz I love to see u flop again
Only think illa then me is HIV, so I stay positive
Even when my casket close, I gotta basket of flows so I’m a live
Let the raps keep a cat thinking of me eternally
Let these words hit your herbs nerves like you were bleedin internally
Straight lyricist, even the def hearin this
I got more styles then sheek and Jada I guess Im livin off experience
Enough artillery, your already feelin me
Dudes is artificial like Anna Nicole Smiths nipples nobody’s as real as me
|
<--- Lotame Behavioral Tags --- >
<--- Lotame Behavioral Tags --- >
