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Post by Hypnotic on Jul 7, 2004 22:43:46 GMT -5
It's Hypnotic on the mic, and I'm back ounce again. When you done readin this rap you'll think you had an ouce of Gin. Once I stop postin you gonna need to hear me again, like you was suffacating and I was yo oxygen. An ounce of Gin, really? Yall couldn't take the Hypnotic that pours rite out of me. Its sorry to see, people steppin to me lookin for someone to beat But after the punches are thrown and the dust clears they see the only thing they can beat is there meat. They go home at night and drown in their own tears. They go to sleep and their dreams confirm their fears. Hypnotic is hear. I come to expose fake MCs, battle them, and destroy 'em wit ease Who that be, at my door ringin the bell, just some Blue Collar dude tryin to make a sell. DAMN. I got off track, gimme a sec let me get it back. You step to me and you'll catch a slap... Jack. H-Y-P-N-O-T-I-C, that's how you spell greatness now everyone get up and follow me:
"Hypnotic is the hottest and he is the best, When his words start flyin you betta protect ya chest. His flows will penetrate any teflawn vest, So find alternate meens to delaying yo death"
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Post by Hypnotic on Jul 17, 2004 1:28:00 GMT -5
Different day, different sound. I want to be known as the globetrotta. Goin round, and round. And no I aint from Harlem, so don't you dare botha.
It's Union City where I like to ride And Holt St. I'll rep till the very day I die. My crew? It's Check 1 2. We'll murder any emcee, whether it's Sirkibbles, J-Unit, or you.
Sorr, must be ready for the battle. Give me a horse, let me slap on the saddle. So I can ride to victory. I sure hope winning is good to me. I'm tryin to look like I know what I'm doing and not some fake ass emcee.
Let me change the pace. I'm usin the other side of my brain now, It's a different place. It's not so crowded in here, I've got so much space. I'm the perfect mold, so use me to make your perfect trace. My ryhmes are clever and bold. I'm iced-tea no need to warm up, I'm perfect cold.
I don't know how to end it Maybe I should just leave it, In the middle of the air. Suspended. Oh fuck it.
Here it goes for all my homies: My mind moves quick-quickity,lickity, split-spliticky, Oh shit. Look at me. I'm pimp-digity. I'm outy.
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