Make Me Mad!

my rhymes are sick
your bars are weak
what I can do in a day
takes you a whole affing week

I wont say it twice
Ima roll with the dice
coz my lines are chill
call me vanilla ice

as I'm spitting these lines
from this electronic spout
I hope I made you mad
[Yuno Out]

 

You got some sick bars
For a weeb with no education
I got fat stacks in my cars
Call it Bugatti Californication

You talk about rolling
But lemme teach you some
'Bout a thing called dolling
Ring it up, needle don't need none

Reppin' V-A-P Nat'
Strapped in red or blue
Call a crip or a blood
My boys will blast on you

Rappers talking about male misogyny
Primal urges, uncontrollable like the Zulu hordes
Sjws say the only cure is a fucking frontal lobotomy
With the blade through the skull,
Teach us what is right
And what is wrong,
Gotta make me a brand new song

Teach the children about the races
Teach the babies about the basics
Teach the nation about their faces

Call me an educator,
No a collaborator
I need you to know
Yuno you know you don't know me

R-A-P rappin'
Doesn't make me Angry

 

AintNoBODYGOTTIMEFORDISBS

This is a rhyme
That's made by a mime
Your Bad and ez
and u lost ur AZ

 

Your rap is bad,
Your rhymes are weak,
Don't call me dad,
I suck at this.
*Drops mic*

 

Lemme teach you a lesson
From the 313, namely it LBZ
For your raps you gotta be caressin'
A mental and lyrical discipline

Adhere to a strict rhyme scheme
Follow the four bar rule, don't be a tool
To ensure your success won't be more than a gleam
Record it in paper, an entire ream

It's okay to be confused
Or even a little jumpy
But step out of line, and it'll get you bruised
This is rapping sonny, you're gonna get used

By a bullshit record label
Who's got money on your mind
Fan it out in front of you, all on the table
Trip gone wrong, did your own, now you're unstable

This shits like Tont Montanya
Scar Face part two
In the words of Pitbull, you'll end up in a cabaña
One door, no windows and you're up here in the slama

You can't trigger me
Angry isn't a philosophy
With lyrical precision
I'll give your flows a circumcision

 

Nice rhyming or poems. Or nice copy paste dunno

 

Ur name sounds like flubber

 

Hey! I use Dark Theme too!

 

Anime is dumb.

 

Santa isnt real

 

No **** sherlock!
check out this video:

 

That's actually a very interesting video about the physics of Santa Claus. I don't see a lot of them any more!

 

The Fitness Gram Pacer Test is a multi step piece of shit

 

The FitnessGram™ Pacer Test is a multistage aerobic capacity test that progressively gets more difficult as it continues. The 20 meter pacer test will begin in 30 seconds. Line up at the start. The running speed starts slowly, but gets faster each minute after you hear this signal. [beep] A single lap should be completed each time you hear this sound. [ding] Remember to run in a straight line, and run as long as possible. The second time you fail to complete a lap before the sound, your test is over. The test will begin on the word start. On your mark, get ready, start.

 

The meteor was coming.

Oh, God, it was coming and she didn’t know what to do. Her son, her beautiful little son, pressed close to her side, craning his neck to look up at his Mother.

“Mummy, why is everyone moving? There’s plenty of food here.” He asked in his sweet, innocent voice.

“Because, my sweet, sometimes it is best that we move on. It is our way.” She replied, forcing the words past the lump in her throat.

“Oh,” Her son said, turning his gaze to the fiery rock in the sky that would spell their deaths out for them, “the old Triceratops told me it was cuzza that rock. He said the rock could hurt us real bad.” He continued, not understanding what he meant by those words in his innocence.

“Triceratops is being silly, he just wanted to tease you one more time before he left.” She lied, choking on her tears. Oh, God, he son, her lovely son, was going to die not understanding.

“Oh.”

She turned her face to the meteor- it was close now. It wouldn’t be long. Swinging her head around, she dropped her face to her sons and nuzzled him one last time. “Let’s play a game, yes? And then we’ll go join the others.” She suggested.

“Okay! What game shall we play, Mummy?”

“Let’s play pretend. We will imagine the sort of place we would like to move to, and when we open our eyes, that’s where we shall be.”

“How do we play?”

One last look at the meteor- it was almost time.

“Close your eyes and imagine the place, and count to thirty out loud. Just like when we play Hide-and-Seek.” She curled herself around her son, both of them now laid on the beach.

“Ok, Mummy. 1, 2, 3, 4…”

She watched the meteor approach with sad eyes, and just before it hit land she turned her head, laying it and her neck over her son and bracing herself.

Her son had not yet said 30, but it was over.

cry, cry.

should be 10/10 sadness
-420/10 mad

 

wrong person

 

Oh Flubby, oooooh flubby...

OOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHJHHH FLUUUUBY!


vegetables are not a real thing.
Seagulls are not a real thing.
Therefore, you are not a real thing, you seagull/vegetable.

They say you are what you eat, and that makes you a vegetable.


Really, all I need is the DEFINITON of a flubby
http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Flubby

 

But I dunt wanna make you angry
What if you become the hulk?

 

^ what slime said

 

^What he said