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pachi
from yo momma (United States) on 2003-04-21 21:41 [#00662209]
Points: 8984 Status: Lurker
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anybody here good at rapping?
i can't freestyle unfortunately, but i've started on writing some lyrics for a potential song today while i was at school.
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Dolleater
from Afrika Bambaataa on 2003-04-21 21:58 [#00662218]
Points: 4819 Status: Addict
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Dj Xamax has some dope rhymes
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od_step_cloak
from Pleth (Australia) on 2003-04-21 22:01 [#00662220]
Points: 3803 Status: Regular
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i freestyle (pretty badly) all the fucking time. just to mess around when i'm in my room or drunk at parties...
but yeah i'm not very good
i can beatbox pretty well though
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weatheredstoner
from same shit babes. (United States) on 2003-04-21 22:11 [#00662229]
Points: 12585 Status: Lurker
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Yeah my beatboxing skills are ill, but my freestyle wouldn't even kill.
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pachi
from yo momma (United States) on 2003-04-21 22:12 [#00662230]
Points: 8984 Status: Lurker | Followup to od_step_cloak: #00662220
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i beatbox like Tom Jenkinson wields a drumset.
=)
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aron
from saskatoon (Canada) on 2003-04-21 22:21 [#00662240]
Points: 3756 Status: Lurker
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i can mc allright i guess.. i'm going a hip-hop album with my friends tanner and austin, i'm mostly doing the beats, but i'll probably mc a bit too.
people tell me that i'm good at freestyling. i got people at school that come up and ask to battle me, so i guess i cant be that bad.
meh
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elated_caution
from Duvall (United States) on 2003-04-21 22:36 [#00662253]
Points: 169 Status: Regular
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I'm not good at rapping or singing, but since we're on the rap topic, anybody like MC 900 ft. Jesus?
THE CITY SLEEPS
stealin' down an alley on a cold dark night i see a halo in the rain 'round a street light i stop and look and listen to the sound as the raindrops penetrate the silence all around alone, i gaze into the glistening street the distant thunder echoing my hearbeat urging me on to a secret goal away from the light from this lamp on a pole so i turn slip away into the rain drifting like a spirit through the shadows in the lane clutching the tools of my trade in my hand an old box of matches and a gasoline can darkness envelops the scene like a shroud a veil of emptiness hangs from the clouds filling up the cracks in this desolate place cradled by the night in an icy embrace i move through the town like a ghost in the rain a dim reflection in a dark windowpane blackness beckons from every side creeping all around like an incoming tide a broken window in an empty house i slip inside and begin to douse the whole place with the fuel that will feed the fire and push back the night, taking me higher on out of the darkness in a deafening roar the match in my hand is the key to the door a simple turn of the wrist will suffice to open a passage to paradise i pause think about the past in the gloom the smell of gasoline permeates the room everyone has a little secret he keeps i light the fires while the city sleeps the match makes a graceful arc to the floor time stands still as I turn for the door which explodes in a fireball and throws me to the street i hit the ground running with the flames at my feet reaching for the night which recoils from the fire the raindrops hiss like a devilish choir dying in the flames with a terrible sound calling all the names of sleepers all around but then in the arms of the night they lay their dreams sprout wings and fly away out of their houses in a gather
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