...N-Dawg and Herrs Doktas Professas Kirk and Scribs.
Huckleberryhound has all but requested this:
Yo yo yo, hear me now, it's time to meet quorum
'cause someone done iced tha whole General Forum!
So it was told by a Hound straight from Hades,
so Cribs, to yo' Caddy and Kirk yo' Mercedes!
N-Dawg, get all them pipes locked and loaded!
Pull out yo' stops, it's high time we goaded
and taunted and battled in rhymes so perverse
that this whole damn Forum climbs out of tha hearse!
Pump up tha bass! Undead hunnies are dancing!
Let's rule this place with our fly necromancing!
Dokta Cribs, we gonna need four from yo' stable!
We'll mount up and ride and we'll each have a label:
I will be Conquest, 'cause my Pirpstick is gold,
Kirk will be Death, 'cause he's super old.
Cribs is black and he isn't and thus hard to shoot
in the dark, so he's War in a camouflage suit.
N-Dawg's an artist whose beatz are most jammin',
and he jumped the border: on two counts, he's Famine.
We gonna invent Reverse Rap Eschatology.
Tha Hounds of Hell gonna howl they apology
fo' even suggesting this Forum got whacked.
Prophets of doom: come here and get smacked.
We'll be digging up souls to pimp them around
and livin' it up in the name of H. Hound.
So look at yo' Saviours, hear us and smell us:
We that Four Hoes' Men, ain't no Gospel fo'tell us!
Originally posted by ChronicLeakyI don't remember asking for asking for cheesy gangsta rap 😛
...N-Dawg and Herrs Doktas Professas Kirk and Scribs.
Huckleberryhound has all but requested this:
Yo yo yo, hear me now, it's time to meet quorum
'cause someone done iced tha whole General Forum!
So it was told by a Hound straight from Hades,
so Cribs, to yo' Caddy and Kirk yo' Mercedes!
N-Dawg, get all them pipes locked and loaded!
Pull o r us and smell us:
We that Four Hoes' Men, ain't no Gospel fo'tell us!
(well done, though)
Originally posted by huckleberryhoundBrotha, don't get yo'self all in a tizzy.
I don't remember asking for asking for cheesy gangsta rap 😛
(well done, though)
Tha otha Hoes' Men ain't yet in tha hizzy.
Before they arrive, I'ma tell you tha rulez;
pass these along to those otha po' fools
and reprobates without tha fortune to see
tha Divine Light of battle rap on RHP.
Rule One: In tha Father of Rhymes you'll believe.
When He speaks to you, sit in yo' pew and receive
His divine Words like they's words to yo' motha.
Tha Saviour of Rap is yo' God, have no otha.
This goes along with Rulez Two and Three:
Tha Saviour ain't down with idolatry.
That means don't worship yo' ride or yo' place.
Use His name as a curse and He'll smite in yo' face.
Rule Four says on Sunday, you gots to be chill
lest tha Saviour of Rap get all up in yo' grill.
That means that Sunday's a pimpin' hiatus
and don't call yo' broker though futaz tempt: "Trade us."
Five's One, but with mama, not Father of Rhymes.
You must show repect fo' that biatch at all times!
If some punk-ass brotha intones that she fat,
you best bust a cap in his ass just like that.
But Brotha, that cap is a figure of speech,
tha Saviour of Rap doth command and beseech,
'cause bust a real cap, in revenge or fo' kicks
and you violated Divine Rule Six.
Seven is easy: tha Father of Rhyme
says very clearly "One biatch at a time
(exceptions involve Dokta S. and his hoes,
and the sin ain't mortal if noone else knows)".
Eight: not to steal, but to earn is yo' goal.
The price of mad bank that ain't yours is yo' soul.
Nine: Tell tha truth to tha brothas you see.
This does not apply to tha LAPD.
Tenth and last of tha Rulez fo' Eternal Life:
You've got a brotha, and he's got a wife
and she's got an ass. Though you cherish the lot,
them's not yours, don't take them, perish tha thought.
Fo' real, my brotha, tha Saviour don't care
if you break these Rulez, at least here and there,
but woe to tha brotha who suffers tha curse
that He lays down on those who don't post in verse.
Yo, I gotta say strait up fo all my ho’s
I gonna be violatin rule numba fo
Bout time we got us some krumpin thread
Weak H Hound just a humpin on some leg
But bein this here happy daddy’s day
Gonna sleep in late then tap in some hay
Who dare’s defy BWA verse
Bein like some puppy dawg on the tittie you nurse
Given this here rhyme fo all you needy
Just like ODB sayin “trick pleazy”
Originally posted by kirksey957Even at times when he's takin' it easy,
Yo, I gotta say strait up fo all my ho’s
I gonna be violatin rule numba fo
Bout time we got us some krumpin thread
Weak H Hound just a humpin on some leg
But bein this here happy daddy’s day
Gonna sleep in late then tap in some hay
Who dare’s defy BWA verse
Bein like some puppy dawg on the tittie you nurse
Given this here rhyme fo all you needy
Just like ODB sayin “trick pleazy”
the Reverend spins rhymes that are off of tha heezy.
Brotha K wants to drop Rule Four like it's hot,
yo, Bro, that's okay, cause Brotha Kirk's got
a direct line on tha phone to tha Daddy of Rhymes
and he can commune wit' tha Lawd at all times.
He don't need a shaman, some beads or a priest,
or an imam from tha Middle East.
The Saviour of Rap knows it's worthwhile,
in tha interest of rhymin' in style
to make an exception fo' our earthly guide:
"If Kirk be rappin', I'll let tha Rulez slide!"
We give props to daddies up in here today:
word to tha OG of tha Bee Dubya A.
First on my shizzle list is all the moderatas
Fulfillin their duty as intellect constipatas
Let go yo control as resistence is fu-tile
Give it up and let the forums have some BWA style
Call me Reverend Death as I take you down below
To that dark place that’s darker than Flo Jo
A place where all tha brothaz rule
Sign above the gate: “No moderatin Toolz”
Like Ole Chuck Dickens showing you ghost of Christmas past
“Cept in this here dream BWA handin you yo ass
Draggin all kinds of chains through this constellation
Yo it’s time fo some moderation reparations
Down below in a firely hell
It’s Red Night clangin an annoyin bell
“Be not as me stirrin up the drama
But rather be BWA baby’s momma.”
Reverend Death may be gray and old
But this here a story that must be told
Moderators depart and be gone fo good
BWA rulz up in this here hood
Y'all niggaz shut it, it's my turn to speak.
This here event be damn near unique.
Foolz be lucky, I dare say blessed
To get a visit in General from yo' nigga Dr. S
General ain't worth a second of my time
But when a nigga gets called, he gotz to rhyme
Let's get it on and let's get it done
Cuz I gotz about ten other forums to run
Call me War, bitch, call me whatever
Or be like yo' mama and call me clever
For creatively using my twelve-inch lever
In ways she ain't even seen before never
BWA in the hizzy, brothaz duality,
Me and kirk here to represent.
You'd think this forum was Spirituality,
The way we grab the mic and make niggaz repent.
I'm black as a mofo, say I ain't
I ain't never use no blackface paint
I'm mo' black than Barak Obama
I even got darker skin than yo' mama
Oh, and speakin' of my African brotha Barak
With the middle name like he's from Iraq
Like he blew up New York and both Twin Towers
Yo, that's just symbolic - representin' black power.
And that's what BWA's all about
If you be feelin' me, gimme a shout
This ain't the Hokey Pokey, keep yo' white foot out
I'll tap yo' mama's ass when she shake it all about.
Cribs out.
Originally posted by DoctorScribblesYou more confused wit' each passing hour,
Y'all niggaz shut it, it's my turn to speak.
This here event be damn near unique.
Foolz be lucky, I dare say blessed
To get a visit in General from yo' nigga Dr. S
General ain't worth a second of my time
But when a nigga gets called, he gotz to rhyme
Let's get it on and let's get it done
Cuz I gotz about ten other forums to run
Call me Wa ...[text shortened]... out
I'll tap yo' mama's ass when she shake it all about.
Cribs out.
a wigga who shrieks to forfeit his own power.
Dawg, you get a new race wheneva you speak.
Check this: one must wonder, is Dokta S. Greek?
My speculation is sub-stantiated.
Our reason in rhymin' is gonna be graded
and I'ma get sent to tha head of tha class
by the Saviour of Rap when I smoke yo' Greek ass.
Premise tha first is all about me,
my own heritage, my history.
I ain't black or white or a Tibetan lama,
or multiple races, like Mr. Obama.
I ain't a damn mammal, I ain't placental:
I'm all that there is, Brotha. I'm elemental.
I'm tha air that you breathe, tha water and land.
I've seen yo' face, hippie, you'll understand.
Consequence One: tha truth of my birth:
my mama ain't mortal, she is tha Earth!
It's from tha dirt that we tread that I'm sprung.
I think she's called "Gaia" in yo' motha tongue.
Premise the Second is yo' word, not mine.
I guess mud and rock fit yo' notion of fine.
You were inspired by old shale and granite
to take a long lever and move a whole planet.
Conclusion Two, which we must concedes is:
Herr Dokta Cribs? Mo' like Prof. Archimedes!
Damned if you ain't ethno-schizophrenic,
'cause levering planets makes one Hellenic.
Step off, Dokta S., stop raising tha rabble
fo' yo' whole self becomes tha' Tower of Babel.
One final word, and then you is free:
read tha paper, you fool, "Barack" has a 'c'.
Originally posted by ChronicLeakyBarack is his slave name, don't forget
Step off, Dokta S., stop raising tha rabble
fo' yo' whole self becomes tha' Tower of Babel.
One final word, and then you is free:
read tha paper, you fool, "Barack" has a 'c'.
Ain't no C in the Swahili alphabet
He's Ba-to-tha-ra-to-tha-MF-K
That's today's lesson from the BWA
Now take your notes, memorize the knowledge
You ain't even old enough to go college
I'll get yo' mama to sign yo' progress report
In person when I'm over for my nightly consort
The post that was quoted here has been removed“What’s a shizzle?” Sweet Jesus, hold the bullshizzle!
BWA holdin all the awards fo discourse
Teachin lyrical rhymes to yo momma befo intercourse
Doctor Death put out to stud like Big Brown the horse
Back to moderatin bitches
Pullin lies and deception like goblins and witches
Moderatin #1 call him Phlabbabit
Takin BWA truth out, aint it tha sh (izzle)
Curlin all up with Massa Russell in bed
You can sho bet all lies you been fed
“ you were warned!” be his mantra
“Bitch pleeze” be our tantra
Tryin to trick you and me fo a ban
Just cuz I’m black and got a tan
Try as I might to bring truth, justice and luv
Niggas like us just wants a hug
So what’s to be banned and to object
Go ahead , cop a feel and inspect
Dig it, my brothaz, all 12 inches
No complaints here from the BWA wenches