The Official NS Rap-Battle

fsscott

fsscott

Active member
So, since there are so many people on here who aparently can said "Rap"

I have decided that we need to settle it on this level playing field of said forum...

I shall start it off with what every gret rap starts off with!

UHHhh...

Carry On!
 
Yo I chop wigs like lumberjacks chop twigs
smoke cigs and burn you with the end of it kid,
I live it right, rip your eyes out no sight
I use fists to begin and end every fight
I creep at night, and use ninja tactics
your tired, youve been running acids lactic
tragic, because I already ran you down
hound you down, nothin but bullet rounds now
I do not clown and I do not joke
I just toke and break hoaxes and get the people stoked
while you sit there rappin, its shit, no one cares
your raps are timid, while mine are ferocious like bears.
You better go in fetal position, my claws are drawn and rippin
Im sittin, shiftin, spray paint drippin,
Im hittin, corner stores and stackin my cash,
robbin you quick, and proceed to skull bash
with the end of my mac, extended clip its a fact
Im back rappin, Im the best on a track.

 
I was a terror since the public school era

Bathroom passes, cuttin classes, squeezing asses

Smoking blunts was a daily routine

Since thirteen, a chubby nigga on the scene

I used to have the tre` duce

And the duce duce in my bubblegoose

Now i got the gack in my knapsack

Loungin' black, smoking sacks up in acts

And sidekicks with my sidekicks rockin fly kicks

Honeys want to chat

But all we wanna know is "Where the party at?"

And can i bring my gat?

If not, I hope I don't get shot

But i throw my vest on my chest

'Cause niggaz is a mess

It don't take nothin' but frontin'

For me to start somethin'

Buggin' and barkin' at niggaz like i was duck huntin'

Dumbing out, just me and my crew

Cause all we wanna do is...

Chorus:

Party... And bullshit, and... (x9)

Hugs from the honeys, Pounds from the roughnecks

Seen my man Sei that I knew from the projects

Said he had beef, asked me if I had my peice

Sure do, two .22's in my shoes

Holler if you need me love i'm in the house

Roam and strollin' see what the honeys is about

Moet popping, hoe hopping, ain't no stopping Big Poppa, I'm a BAD BOY

Niggaz wanna front, who got your back? (BIGGIE!)

Niggaz wanna flex, who got the gat? (BIGGIE!)

It ain't hard to tell I'm the east coast overdoser

Nigga you scared you're supposed to

Nigga I toast ya, put fear in your heart

Fuck up the party before it even start

Pissy drunk, off the Henny and skunk

Or some brand-nubian shit beatin' down punks!

Chorus

Bitches in the back looking righteous

In a tight dress, i think i might just

Hit her with a little Biggie 101, How to tote a gun

And have fun with Jamaician rum

Conversations, blunts in rotation

My man Big Jacques got the glock in his waist and

we're smoking, drinking, got the hooker thinking

If money smell bad than this nigga Biggie stinking

Is it my charm? I got the hookers eatin out my palm

She grabbed my arm and said "Let's leave calm"

I'm hittin' skins again

Rolled up another blunt, bought a Heineken

Niggaz start to loke out, a kid got choked out

Blows was thrown and a fucking fight broke out

[Music stops, indecipherable sounds of people yelling and arguing,

Biggie breaks it up yelling "Yo chill, man, chill!"]

Can't we just all get along?

So i can put hickies on her chest like Li'l Shawn

Get her pissy drunk off of Don Perrignon

And it's on, and I'm gone

that's that.

[Chorus w/ Puff talking after selected lines]

Party... and Bullshit, (Party.)

and Party... and Bullshit, (Bullshit.)

and Party... and Bullshit, (Party.)

and Party... and Bullshit, (Bullshit.)

and Party... and Bullshit, (Yea... Junior Mafia likes that.)

and Party... and Bullshit,

and Party... and Bullshit, (Uptown likes that.)

and Party... and Bullshit,

and Party... and Bullshit, (Bad Boy likes that.)

and Party... and Bullshit,

and Party... and Bullshit, (Brooklyn Crew likes that.)

and Party... and Bullshit,

and Party... and Bullshit, (Third Eye likes that.)

and Party... and Bullshit,

[Repeats until fade out]

i win
 
yo mom is fat

i am wearing a hat

if i were chinese i'd eat your cat

ummmmm, kitty, umm umm umm

i think i just realized my rymes are dumb

but i still got better skills than you

you stupid poo shoe

I was smokin a jay

back in the day

when i relized i was better than DR. DRE

here i sit sippin digets

wishin i owned some backflipin midgets

get out yo gats and start some raids

cause i'm the biggest thing since the discovery of aids

Bandaids, help cover yo cuts

by the way, i did yo mom up the butt

cause i am the masta dysasta

the best their was

dont fuck with me bitch

i am yo cuz

its the nick nack patty wack

give yo dog a bone

My rap shit is here to stay

and i aint never goin home

you get dome

from a clown named jack

who you also like

to do up his crack

your wack, a wanna be G

and that is what you will always be

 
So you call this a battle, want to start a lil something?

You say you can rap but y'all can't do nothin

your rhyme schemes are like crime scenes 'round ya hood

non-existent, your suburban ass should

just drop down, stop clowning around

everyone reacts to this rap attack sound

yo rhymes ain't shit, I think this is your first hit

too bad I'm hot, burning with the flows I've lit

so fresh, fast, and ever so slick

you ain't got fire you just flickin a BIC

Because the evidence is left in the path of destruction, burnt with the rhymes and your own corruption

so just back it up a notch and look at what you write, my rhymes eat up yours cause I got such an appetite

yeah, an appetite, munchies for snack, and that's what you're giving, nah I ain't giving shit back

so if you want to try to crack my dome, ya gotta step it up so you can contest my throne

what ya got now ain't really set in stone,

unlike me - I got myself a fuckin poem

analyze this text and you'll learn the game, the game of how I make you look tame
 
Power button ON, wait for the screen to unfreeze,

Starts all black, then fades to green.

Click on the "e", that's how I power up,

May not be apple, but I don't give a fuck.

Splash page baby, not all of you got it,

It's like the drawbridge, only I can unlock it.

pho[tog]rapher, reppin' my home & my trade,

Up pops the homepage, thrill never fades.

Peep the daily video, of Simon, Tanner, or Jon,

I love the video-blogs just to see how they're doin'.

Read the daily news, freshly dropped from the boys,

Schmuck & Rogge, letting you in on the newest shit & toys.

Cruise to SkiGab, for my insider's look,

ESPN for news? Nah, I trust the Canucks.

Not only there, but we got posts from New Zealand,

Like Jossi Wells, bringing our sport a new feelin’.

International hype, our website has got it,

It's always open, like Donald Trump's wallet.

After I check some edits and argue who's reigning,

I'm off to NSG, to do some claiming.

When I'm there, I better behave with class,

Otherwise I'm asking for J.D. to stick a ban on my ass.

To avoid that, best hit the picture gallery,

Top rated like Hoot, or tweens behaving badly.

Back to the forums to work on my post-count,

‘Cos replying on videos, you know that it won't count.

Rhymed count with count, look at me caring,

I'm a n00b with style, perfected straight-airing.

I don't have time for rhyme, I'm still lookin' for Chad's Gap,

Shit they blew it up, after Tanner's mishap.

Triumph and tragedy, that's just how our sport is,

From Kings of C-Crew, to IHateNY kids.

All levels of talent, can come here together,

Try to find some bindings, or argue the weather.

We spend our time, trying to revolutionize the sport,

While our grades may be dropping, on that card of report.

Dad thinks I'm wasting time, while Ma knows I got it,

Even though she's mad about this 4th hospital visit.

So what if I break? So what if I fall?

What’s the point in riding without risking it all?

All of the greats, know when to throw-down,

Passionate in comps, and fun in their home-town.

Some face the heat and despair of loss,

Some can’t be beat and remain the snow boss.

Throwing out pro-models and exclusive kicks,

While I remember saving for my first pair of sticks.

Straight-edge or no-edge, skis with graphics- they hip,

While Newschoolers takes pride in rocking a twin-tip.

On the internet by the thousands, the hills are different,

We wait for another freestyler to speed-check out first hit.

Friends online have become friends on snow,

I can travel the hills and find NSers I know.

I’m proud to say, I’ve Friday Office partied,

Though I’ve traveled to Monday class, with my liver feeling hearty.

I many not have been here with the likes of Angelica,

But in my time, I’ve seen NS become hella…

…updated and renovated, rejuvenated and fresh,

All walks of winter-life are recognizing the best.

In ski world updates, in compassion and drive,

Not only in the members, but the big guys inside.

Started like we are, now recognized as Gods,

Proving you can live the dream, def beat the odds.

I have much respect for the pros, my friends, and n00bs,

For picking 2-planks, when it came time to choose.

I don’t want to end this, ‘cos NS is changing,

But I can’t write this rhyme while shit’s rearranging.

Set in stone, or sport- it is not,

Recognition from 411, proving NS is hot.

So I’ll keep wearing my bandana, my own personal steeze,

You might go hit park, you might ski the trees.

Like Burger King, you can have it your way,

I’ll see you on the hills, on the next powder day.

 
^that was decent but a little too long and u tried to hard but i liked your style of describing the forums dude it was sick.

matty fry like actrually battled and disssed people which was sick so he wins
 
rollin through yo hood in ma 09 beema

got Ike in the trunk and its beatin like tina

yo bitch is on ma wiener, while i swerve

puffin tha high grade sin semilla

ughhh its like that
 
Peter once was straight with burgers and fries,

Now hes gay with the subway guys,

GAY peter, GAY peter

ahhh how to be immature lol

but,

that straight wack, I didn't take jack

If wana take a crack, Your just guna get it back

Speed away in your wheels, Don't worry ill be right on your heels.

I treat life like a bitch if it talks back, I give it another smack

Can you believe what i can concive

What i can dream just makes you cream

The page is a blur, i need no spur

To put me on track to release this Audio crack

little do you know, that once put on the snow

I fly oh so high, Be like who the fuck is that guy

Im there im here, try and catch me you fucking queer

while looking back at you in the mirror,all ill leave you with is a lasting sneer

conformity just aint ordinary

Im mother fucking extrodinary

you havn't seen my style, cuz its been a while

But if you seen it you know i mean it

Northing can hold me, Cuz im straight up GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG

 
pho[tog]rapher...u could work at the gift shop and still never be a rapper...hear the round of applause when i pull out my gat thats what i call a gun clapper...u could never have a hit even if u were a batter... like my rhymes got an eating disorder cause they jus keep gettin fatter...shit u couldnt get to my level even if i gave u a ladder...spit metaphors crazier then the mad hatter...yellow on my wrist like i released my bladder....aight im done with the 'er' sound...shit u gotta suplex me that the only way that il back down....
 
yo this is x-man comin up in this ns thread,

i know you all thinkin that hip hop is dead,

but im here to show you that its all a fucking lie,

that when i spit it make nas wanna lie down and cry,

and ill rape all you posers on the mic cuz im so fly,

all you emo bitches should just lay down and die.

now i know you felt cool throwin your first switch 7,

like your gonna be a ski god, up in heaven,

then i come up, throw a double misty on your shit,

and you just standin there as stolid as mitt...

romney in the presidential election,

and your gonna die soon like in natural selection,

cuz your a fucking noob cant even get an erection,

from women, cuz its men up in your groinal section.
 
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