This anger penetrates,
Much like the bullets I be pumpin’ into you as you hyperventilate,
The value your life be an over rate.

First ryme, don't pull any punches

Im one of the hustlers that the homies appreciate
I lost count of the hunted, devil bless the dead bitches
Im crazy, high on angeldust obsessed with the red liquid

I'm the dealer the playas love,
Fallen hoes, watchin' me from above,
Insane, I need some snow on my brain, wine does nothing to ease my pain.

Fresh blood! YEE YEE!

My style leaves hypocritical emcees slain,
This homicidal lyricist is throwin away his knife,
And donning a dark cowl and picking up the rythmatic sythe,

(Note: this is a massive collab, if you want to fight, go rumble)

I'll take your wife, i'll take her *bleep*in life
Stab you in the back, cut ya throat with a knife
SMD is the master MC, What ya got Kid? Come battle me

You've just earned the wrath of a Leathal Emcee,
I'll clean your ears with skewers cause you didn't listen to what I said,
I'll write stanzas in your blood you can enjoy now that your dead,

The only thing thats dead, is your post in this thread
I got the rope over ya neck, The bloods rushin to ya head
Wipe the sweat from ya brow, cuz your face is goin red.

Your bitch couldn't stop yappin, so I slapped her and said "Damn, just gimmie some head!"
SMD? What the *bleep*? Nobody is really fearing ya
Lyrics cause hysteria your criteria compared to mine is just inferior

Hells rizen bought down to earth to raise hell nothin else period
Evil is forever, lil kid with the devil's brain born in a church
I get bigger than lurch rayzr blayd stands tall up at the end of every verse




This message was edited by undertaker_4ever on Apr 17 2008.

The hatred is growing, the beat feels like a curse.
Its keeping me filled with this fire, that desire.
Whoever said you keep up with me, bitch, they was a liar!

I spit flame into the mic, feel my fire
Rage filled rhymes directed right at ya
Your style is whack, your weak like margaret thatcher

You can run, can't hide, i will always catch ya
I put the hustle, behind this muscle
Got more playback then an ipod shuffle

How you thing your ABA style works is a head scratcher,
You provide the complexity of a story without a acctual plot,
Its not funny cause its Serious Mental Disorder that you got,

We're the boxers in the ring, wanna take a shot?
You think your up north, but ima knock you down south
*bleep* a mouthpiece, i'll put my piece in your mouth

Could you even pull of a round? I highly doubt.
You tryin' to be tough, What, you wanna get buck?
Got more playback than an iPod Shuffle? Bitch, I call you a bluff.