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#rapping
michaelbogild · 18 hours ago
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Rap lyrics written in two hours on May 6th 2021
Bang these bars straight into space in about six million ways.
There ain’t no G that can spit it quite like me.
That mad-hatter typa rapper.
On my dapper run, I'll be your rapper-don. My fuse is shorter than a leprechaun.
All I do is crush, all you do is crash.
Your shit is generic, I kill every lyric.
I willed it till I killed it.
Rap phenomenon, harder than Conor, man.
Shalom, watch me roam, I'm a star, where's my dome?
Better than the average, got that sick leverage, higher than Mount Everest, on the mic a terrorist.
I'm motherfucking Norse, bringing that Thor-hammer force.
My death-row flow, bout to fucking blow.
My bars are all thugs, cooler than ice on the rocks.
Always born to be...a motherfucking G.
Ballers ain't broke, my bars will make you choke.
I'll bring it with a twist, shoot that ace out from my wrist.
Scheming like Madoff, these rhymes get mad love.
My sick ass bars, the lords that get the broads.
I tease it then I squeeze it.
Call me up and will make shit pop.
Your rhymes are all lame, girls scream my motherfucking name.
Your Achilles heel are the rhymes I feel.
All that gall s'gonna make you fall, I'll lyrical murder you, from wall to bouncing wall.
My bars be missiles seeking' some hot model freakin.
Gonna blast real fast, tie my shit to the mast.
Bulletproof, higher than the roof, ain't aloof, just a lyrical goof.
I write checks, you ride dicks, turn my ass up in the mix, for these bars all get the chicks.
The dookie, the shit, ain't no rookie, I'm lit.
Bring me that ass and I'll flash that cash.
Conned it, now I flaunt it, dead presidents rising, my shit's too enticing.
Psyched to grab the mic, bring  that shit you like
The script, I just rip it up. Why? I don't give a fuck.
On my fucking way to better fucking days.
Can't hack my swag, it's just something you lack.
That mad hatter wackness has entered my lyrical radness.
I'm deep in it, got my gleam in it.
Not a thug or a jock, just a dude who knows how to rock.
I never slack, I just bring rap back.
Ain't no clone, this the throne.
My bars got the bling of a king.
That rock n' roll soul...acing every goal
From student of the game to blitzes and fame.
Straight from the year of 86, the midwife knew I’d make it big.
Slicker than you, bigger than you.
MC like a sledgehammer, rap matrix programmer.
Back with a banger of a track, now turn it to the max, in ya cribs, love-shacks.
All I fucking do is unlike the status quo.
Put their rhymes in a noose, beat it, vamoose.
Making all them haters serve me like waiters.
Thick as a brick, but that body be lit.
Got that game to reach that fame.
I don't bottle shit, I spit it all out in rhymes drawing model chicks.
My rise is your demise.
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