You ain't got what it takes to be a rapper dude, your lines are too short, too crude.
Ya damn right I'm a dropout-three schools threw me out for teacher knockouts!
Think I should've stayed in school? Read your own verse you sound like a fool!
Don't worry, won't try to make ya momma cry-I wanna make the bitch die!
Nah I ain't tough cause I rep Psy, rock it because I'm rough-that's why.
I can do short lil clips like you if I want too, but nobody wants to sound like you,
You don't know what you're doin that's why you keep screwin up.
You'll keep tryin them comebacks, while I'm writing mad tracks.
The only tracks you got are on the arm. Them raps are cheesey like parm,
and them bars weak, couldn't do anybody harm. Ya **** is meek
unlike me, who's got mad bombs fallin free. Cannot **** with this mother****er Atrocious,
otherwise known as Blastphemist the Xist. Everybody listening comming up next it's Unrelenting with some more pretending.

Your rhymes remind me of a man by the name of Shel Silverstein
Playa you aint mean, wearing makeup like a scene queen
Your warbled vocabulary is that of a retarded Mr Bean
Word around town you frequent gay bars with cut off jeans
That shouldn't be a surprise, I know that you're a fairy
You suck dick and swallow it, mixing meat with dairy
You made blog about shaving your ass "Don't want your man to think it's hairy"
Your boyfriend dresses you like a barbie doll and refers to you as mary
But here on the internet, you wanna look like you are crazy
Trying to amaze me, at best your couplets are hazy
Insulting my keystyling skills will never phase me
With a style so feminine, I'll rename you stacy.

Hear ya talkin **** about Shel, but even he could give you hell.
Bugs me how your rhymes stutter, I told ya buy a dictionary butt nutter.
All you got is f*g s**t, must know alot about it or your tryin to hide behind it.
You've been reading my raps too much, bitin' my lines and such.
Keep on hatin', bull****tin and speculatin. I'll keep perpetuatin
An underground sound that could turn ya life around! Once I give ya wife a pound.
You need to back the f**k down, you messin with a clown that's been to your town.
I know what it's like: all ***gots and dikes. Lil kids on trikes that're cooler than you,
see me and run away-at least they know what to do. I've seen what ya got brew,
and there's nothin to it-hell Shia Lebouf could surely do it same as Unrelenting.
Mother****er condecending, but that's all you got, 'cept maybe some pot.
You can try again, but I'm know you'll never win. Hellish mother****er and my rap is like sin.
My soul under the control of a demon, your's like a c*nt hole chock full of semen.

You've never been to my town, you'd have a heart attack
I'll take a shovel to your head and bury you in the cul de sac
With an unmarked grave that reads "this rapper's wack"
Call me Ronald McD I'm riding with the big mac
Spending all these big stacks and yeah I got a big sack
You keep begging to lick it like it was your german sheperd's ass crack
No, now stop sending me letters expressing your love of bareback
I know my rhymes aren't always bangers but yours, by far, are more whack
The Xist? That name doesn't even mean ****
Tyler, The Creator called he's tired of being ****ing bit

Unkind and unsigned I'm unaligned from mankind bit maligne and asanine can never be resigned.
May I remind you just exactly who it is that you are dealing with friend-an immortal mother****er here 'til the end.
You best resumbit ya **** to Hallmark, they a walk in the park. Got nothin' on me-not the least bit. For competing with me-you are unfit.
My song is the unholy writ, I emit a dangerous vibe. Only befit for the Juggalo tribe-know ya dig on my psycho jibe!
**** with me you won't make it-those runnin-wit-a-hatchet stay close knit. Somethin like a baseball mit-ain't it some ****.
Sorry I'm high like orbit and I gotta take a ****. Yeah I said **** like how you rhymed could be deifined.
Go ahead and throw a fit, while I got and pitch a ****-can't forget to flush it. Oh but don't forget, this ain't parody ****.
This is my rap don't bite on it. This is Homocide Music, the way you can't do it. I said Homocide Music, no suicide to it!!

:laughing: I like to rhyme as much as possible and make sure there's structure to it. Otherwise, I get bored.

:laughing: You killed it with this line.

Anyone wanna get in on some MB mixtape action?

YES please. I need to get out of retirement before people start thinking I actually retired.

i got bars yo

yo it's the nasty slick and dangerous
yo bitches dream bout banging us
my cliq on shrooms and angel dust
grippin steel and sippin' tuss,
twist a blunt, i'm still smokin'
dutch master, fat stogie
this one here's for redwine
never catch me doin' big time, NAWWWW
got plenty cougars in my paw
you a lame rapper cuz
finna get busted in yo jaw
i'm not pretty boi i'm city, country
fuckin' wit my snow bunnies
on a lil somethin' like kim mang
great lake money, can u swim mang
alligator gloc, plenty d's on my wrist
call it baywatch, born stuntin' MANG

WUT