Alphabetical (lyricalassualt.uk)

Quit quacking, the quickest queerest queen ain't quiet.
Rave is rampant, ripping rippers, rare like riots.
Shit, sitting is silence. Such silliness is suicide.
Truthfully, too talented to be taken tongue tied.
Unwanted, unwarranted, ultimately undenied.
Vicious verses versus virgins viewed and verified.

from http://www.lyricalassault.co.uk/forum/classic-alphabet-thread_topic27174_post296515.html?KW=#296515

666

Chorus
6 days after he died he was buried.
6 men carried him to his grave.
Now he's 6 feet away from the surface, was a lovely service.
Man, I must be the devil. He's my eternal slave.

Verse 1
Your family's crying. On my strength they're relying.
But them tears ain't gon' bring you back. I hope they ain't trying.
It hurts her to do it, but moms is planning your wake.
In the back of her mind she's thinking, "No more headaches."
You neglected your gay ways and negated to fake.
Talked that shit about Rave? I stopped that shit a like a brake.
Took the medical examiner some days to report
the cause of your expiration was of no regular sort.
There were no signs of a struggle, and no external wounds,
just the scariest countenance ever seen in her room.
She figured that grimace a heart attack could create.
And it's true as your heart stopped when faced with your fate.
You met your boy on the street, and then commenced to come nearer.
I went translucent, and suddenly turned into a mirror.
Your skin turned a frail pale. You guarded your entrails.
Saw yourself eternally fucked with a bat with thin nails.

Chorus
6 days after he died he was buried.
6 men carried him to his grave.
Now he's 6 feet away from the surface, was a lovely service.
Man, I must be the devil. He's my eternal slave.
repeat 2X

Verse 2
6 days after heart stoppage your funeral's held.
Preacher man's going on and on 'bout how prayer welds
all the bleeding hearts and weeping souls. But you can't tell,
'cause you're trapped in this dead shell, and freezing like Hell.
Rave gets up, says his piece. You're screaming out, "That's him!"
Your pathetic pleading words were heard by not one of them.
As for the 144,000, chances are slim
you will be one of them. The bed you made made your fate grim.
Three cousins and three homies made the 6 pall bearers.
In the front left was me who saw you die in sheer terror.
The coffin is magical for it shows you all better,
all the tracks of tears from wify's cries from times when you left'er,
All them times when I couldn't hang, she needed a bang.
She texted me, "HALLELUJAH!" as that shit choir sang.
You're now hating the testifying and swooning she feigned.
When I smiled only you could see my horns and my fangs.

Chorus
6 days after he died he was buried.
6 men carried him to his grave.
Now he's 6 feet away from the surface, was a lovely service.
Man, I must be the devil. He's my eternal slave.
repeat 2X

Verse 3
While carrying you, I had to admire the coffin.
'Cause they spared no expense, hell even I put a lot in.
I told 'em extra padding is more comfy to rot in.
When I put that plotted thought in, every head started noddin'.
Only the best for my homie. You're going out how you lived.
It truly takes a baller to make an extravagant stiff.
You were always on the take, never was one to give.
Every fool who tried to take from you, they got shot or shived.
You used your wealth and influence, here on this earth, as a weapon.
Jesus said ain't nothing tougher than the rich piercing heaven.
So I chose for your transference the most perfect leaven.
At the lowering apparatus we halted our steppin'.
As the casket descended, I looked through it to your eyes,
waved hello to you, but you took it as a goodbye.
Because nowadays we're buried seven feet when we die,
but your expensive padded layers left you one foot shy.
That's why

Chorus
6 days after he died he was buried.
6 men carried him to his grave.
Now he's 6 feet away from the surface, was a lovely service.
Man, I must be the devil. He's my eternal slave.
repeat 2X


Origin: http://www.lyricalassault.co.uk/forum/666_topic26963.html

Diss The Person Above You (Lyrical Assault) Dissing King Carnarsie

Now you really trippin', if you think you master rippin'.
You mentioned nuts, I got so much that gets the horses flippin'.
Break you like Robin Givens. Like Clint you unforgiven.
As far as flow, I'm spittin' shit that's gettin' toilets tippin'.

I'm grinnin' at your sentences, bitch I'm the sickest menace,
like O Dawg, but Oh Lawd, you like Dennis the Menace.
The sinister lyricist killin' King like a peasant demented,
quittin' when Quentin stops saying "nigger" when scripted.

I'm the anti of everything that is holy predicted.
But I spit shit that chicks dig, got all yo' bitches addicted.
If it's glitz which is wished with this, you missed it, admit it.
Bitch you pissin' the realist here like Zimmerman acquitted.


http://www.lyricalassault.co.uk/forum/diss-the-person-above-you-part-whatever_topic13293_page120.html

Lyrical Assault - Call Outs Run In with Titu

Who is this, falling victim as he stalls out?
Didn't intend on spittin'. This is just a call out
Now witnesses find your carcass in the fallout.
You fear my cockiness as if I keep my balls out.

I clean rip you up, although I got a foul mouth.
Wanna get dirty, then bring that ass on down South.
Get in your head to see what a fuckin' clown's 'bout,
piss on your brains so all yo' pussy shit drowns out.

Get this final sentence spinnin' like a roundhouse,
split yo' half-assed ass in half like a townhouse.

http://www.lyricalassault.co.uk/forum/open_topic25820.html

To BigBeast (Old Battle Text)

First of all, wasn't talkin' bout you when I sent that through.
It was all about Ghosty. What the fuck's wrong with you?.
But fools will be fooled, now let me take you to school.
U-Substitutions or The Chain Rule can compute you, cool?

When I do my duty, every cutey pops and shakes their booty.
You just lose 'em, so they call the true to come do it to 'em.
Do I groove 'em? Yes I do. Who they booing? Must be you.
Seek the truth, and respect it soon as it's proven to you.

It behooves of you Junior to listen or you'll feel the boom.
I'll impugn you then improve you, too. That's just what I do.
Should I excuse you, leave you to ruin in ignorant doom?
You've been beaten and buried alive, now let me exhume.

In this room of deluded prudes, let me be your muse.
Using sutures I'm stitching you up, but still you are bruised.
Though usually shooting through dudes like prune anal lube,
I'll be smoothie, just oozing on down and soothing your wounds.


From: http://freestylerap.forumakers.com/t1448p15-never-ending-rapp-batle

Let's Get It.

Let's get it,... split it,... rip it to it's very outer limits.
I'm 'bout about my shit as if I'm fuckin' with No Limit.
Gimmicks... diminish... replenish with the slickest shit.
Pick a bitch at random, peel 'em till I get 'em to exit.

My wrist... twitches... when I... lie idle for a bit.
Tension builds until the will to kill is testing all my wit.
Repented, demented thoughts sift from brain into the spirit,
Spit it quick and unrelenting till they're beggin' me to quit it.

Shit,..... even I fear it...... It's scary being me.
Patiently waiting for the day my people will carry me,
and gladly speak of the man... that began... eternal sleep,
faggot freak who spat wickedly unique, paternal creep.

Don't go weepin' just yet, 'cause your boy is still all on it
with that flame at the ready for them petty boys who want it.
My shit's all on the table. It's that royal flush, so I flaunt it.
Niggas ghost when I flow, so this site is eerily haunted.


From: http://freestylerap.forumakers.com

Weapons

No weapon was recommended, so it's just my own choice.
I'm killing niggas with this rap shit, so I'll use my own voice.
Fuck a boy up with this verbage and vocab yo' boy employs
till the congregation in this bitch stand up and just rejoice.

Lyrics so hot melt the Devil, so bright that Jesus wear shades.
I'm the gayest to have sprayed like this, victims constantly laid.
Yeah the pun is all intended in "laid." My bed is made.
Rave's the envy of grenades. Roaches clear out when I Raid.


from http://freestylerap.forumakers.com/t40p15-weapons-cypher#6078

Alphabetical

Wondrous are my wickednesses. Witches can't get with this.
Xerotic is your flow. Implant xylems so we can coexist.
Yearlong yearnings you've yielded yelling your yelps in Yiddish.
Zero zest against the zippiest, pulling your strings, the zitherist.


from lyricalthreats.com

Just Bored & Writing

All these rappers falling off, like I a junkie stripper's drawers.
Now your boy's back on the site, somebody better call the laws.
Spit slick shit without a flaw, quicker than you ever saw.
Why am I so cocky with this shit? I get it from my pa.

On the floor there is your jaw, astounded by the splendid wicked
lyricist in this bitch, get vicious with witnesses' attention.
In addition to the venom existing in this simplistic spit,
I sip dick drip and lick from the tip to the split where shit exits.


from http://freestylerap.forumakers.com/t1743-mr-sinister-lyricist

Lyrical Threats (Last Word) Thread

I spurt words of hurt that flirt with the worst turning nerds reverse,
terse and worse when cursing, won't divert from the dirt I unearth.
I've been cursed since birth, on the first, when the nurse saw my girth.
Under shirt her nipples perked and under skirt were dirty squirts.


http://lyricalthreats.com/forum/cypher-wars/304-last-word-cypher-3.html

Hell Dwelling

Seriously B., shit's finna be me and me enemies in this
bi-atch because mentally these heathens in need of Jesus
freak frequently when reading scenes I'm breeding, keep 'em pleading,
but no freeing from the grieving, leave 'em seething as I'm heating,

'cause I'm bleeding out my soul. Your boy's hot but flow so cold.
Lose control and I'm all on it, flaunt it. Daunted by my roll?
Dust flies off the unrolled scroll that laid hidden and unknown.
Don those spectacles you own, see the truth as it unfolds.

"Unto he hath said the Devil, 'Hence thou journey lies but thorns,
for forsaken be thou brethren, but through me ye be reborn.'"
Reincarnated, hated, frustrated, stripped naked, degraded, scorned,
and placed in places where no faces show embraces only horns.

It's been a battle since the rattle traveled from my hand to gravel.
Paddled if I tattled 'bout the getting fucked in shackles.
Now I'm striking atcha not to match ya, but to bash ya, wrack that ass up.
Pack the bags up. Wake the fags up! Rave's a quack, don't need no back up.


www.lyricalbattlegrounds.net

Just Rhymes

Oh, what gives to let live the shrill thrill that is me;
shitting skill that reveals, indeed kills weak emcees?

With my incandescent light I glow bright through the night.
When I write I ignite kind of like dynamite.

Every sentence written lets you witness sickness within sinnin' brigands.
Mention competition, get 'em missin' just with dissin'. Listen,

this shit will not stop till my clock's ceased to tock,
when I'm dropped in a box. Caught some shit sucking cock.


http://lyricalthreats.com/forum/rap-cyphers-f22/4-bar-cypher-1470/

Connecticut Shooting

We rap all day about guns without perceiving the threat,
But we're now seeing the flaws and must not ever forget,
'cause shit is serious, delirious how this day came about.
Our children or our guns, which do we dare live without?

They say people, not guns, kill. Well, I'm not so convinced,
'cause that firepower inspires violence. That's real evidence.
When will these politicians get livid and give in to vengeance,
and rip out every single sentence of the second amendment?


http://lyricalbattlegrounds.net/forum/showthread.php?110-Connecticut-Shooting&p=412#post412

Less Than Human

Gnats all around us, lice in our hair,
Aches in our backs, defeat in our glare,
For we matter not. Do we not?
Regarded less than human is our flock.

Daily degradation, hatred everywhere,
Lack of education, infants in our care,
Not even family plots when we rot,
Regarded less than human is our flock.

Beaten and broken and bent out of shape,
Bashful and baffled, we bastards of fate,
Hell played in mazes of rays from the sun,
Horrified by howls of hounds if we run,

Aimless anguished labor for fat millionaires,
No wealth to come to us, only whips if one dares,
Of acts of inhumanity this was the epoch.
Regarded less than human, still, is our flock.

Theater Shooting

I hope this recent shooting at a Batman showing raises enough eyebrows to convince someone with authority to change the gun laws. The truth is that the number of guns in the United States and the number of adult citizens are neck-and-neck. That's pathetic as far as I'm concerned. We live in the Land Of The Free be shot on any given day. I hope you all enjoy this freedom of death.

In Your Presence

Happy Birthday!

Another year is happy to receive
the wonderfully fair air that you breathe.
Though at times it's hard, I’m still happy to be in your presence.

Naturally as a breeze through autumn leaves you move me.
Without effort you seamlessly embody grace and joviality,
with a glow that grows, and it shows to all in your presence.

And those days when you’re down and not making a sound,
when the tension is high and the tide dies down,
your silence is loud like the horn of a clown.
Now that's one hell of a presence.

You hum your own tune as you step, looking sweet.
Every street lies in wait of the stamp of your feet.
Like grooves in concrete you’re embedded in me.
That means I’m always in your presence.

Mr. Sinister Lyricist Vs. ExCeed

ExCeed

I rhyme one way, takin flight off the run way
listen while I bruise, I bring the news, you copythat?
You copy cats with hip hop style and sloppy hats
you flop your stacks, spend a lot of cash?
Your cheap lines, cheap computer, money where your problems at
The little birdy told me nothin, cause he wasn't singin
Yeah I hit hard, you'll hear dumbells ringin
under thirty, not a birdy, I walk
with bags I take 2 drags I swag
then bag your hos, keep them beauties as collaterol
fantastic flow farms that cabbage mo
and I'm glad I still know I bag that dough
Glad I got that bag to handle trash some mo
My castle got some cards with the aces on top
When I seige I shut it down and those aces flop
Talk hop scotch not hip hop and walk what you talk
Sorry If I bitched you, my rhymes had you in the chalk.



The Rave

Man I nodded off a little, cause that shit bored me to sleep.
Cheap and weak, and speakers weep when ExCeed speaks on a beat.
Let me seep into your veins and give the sweetest relief,
cause you're going down fast, homie. We all feel your grief.

Do your money talking. All that jawing shows what you're about.
Just a sell out that's been well worn out, but where is your clout?
In your dreams is where. Bet your car is worth more than your house.
Same old same old flout, without a doubt, the game can do without.

But the real is what you're reading; steady growing, no defeating,
moving freely through your blood stream. Your veins are now heating.
Feel the fury do you boy? Feel your blood start to boil?
Only getting worse from here, The Rave will never recoil.

I'm a psychopathic mohel, leave you lyrically castrated,
"bucked naked!" like The Players Club after St. Louis razed it.
Hesitation is the safest plan when you fuck with The Man.
I'll cook you, eat you, and shit you out faster than Hannibal can.



From http://freestylerap.forumakers.com/t1743-mr-sinister-lyricist

Black Men in dresses

Now they've got Charles Barkley in a dress. Sign!

The War On Drugs (Blacks)

As far as I'm concerned the "War on Drugs" is nothing more than a war on blacks. Since no measures are being taken to prevent drugs from getting to the streets, and the petty pushers on the block receive more severe penalties than those of the high profile, clean cut, white collar opportunists that conspire to get the narcotics in the country in first place, it's only logical to conclude that the poor young kids on the corner are the target of this war.

Mr. Sinister Lyricist

Rage is what you feel when you write like this;
When you don't give a shit if you hit or you miss,
Cause you The Shit, and you knew it from jump,
Ready to bite a nigga head off as soon as he jumps.

You be mean muggin' mutha fuckas just for the hell of it,
And your homies keep asking, "Dude why you be buggin'?
Why sometimes you be all quiet and don't wanna talk,
And like a bat straight out of hell where ever you walk?"

And I reply, "Ya'll can all go fuck yourselves,"
While I'm bumping that D12 World by D12.
Protect your health, and stay the fuck away from me.
Unless you wanna get ass fucked, don't fuck with me.

I'm a punk that gets punked by none of you punks,
Smoke the funk and stay drunk, but never stunt,
On the hunt for a weak rhyme chump to make brunch,
Skip lunch, wait for a new bunch, then take a chomp.

Now a chunk of yo ass is missin', and my ass you kissin'
while I laugh and piss. Now stop that "fag-shit" dissin'.
This is the christenin' of the illest spittin'
sinister Mr. Lyricist with a pen. So listen in.

Origin: http://freestylerap.forumakers.com/t1743-mr-sinister-lyricist