dis was 4 fun...

shit, it ain't hard to tell/
i never fell, chantin these words like spells/
sayin u unimpressed wit rap/
kid wit slanted eyes...wait he ain't black/
no shit, but i'm still r-a double p i-n-g/
try denyin me, takin aim eyin G's/
one by one, ripped in pieces/
cuz i juss dunno wut peace is/
nemore...it doesn't exist nemore/
tha world throws its fist for war/
sex sells, we peelin shells while we dwell in hell/
shit, it ain't hard to tell/

nebody wanna battle?

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HAHA welcome Ess3ncE, post lots dude... but you got somethin comin...

and its me runnin yo ugly butt ova/
hittin you so hard like some black brotha/
make you wish you had another lova/
so run yo ass back to you motha/
cuz brotha yo motha be suckin mah biG dik/
gulpin dat shit down like some country hick/
bobbin up and down takin long licks/
and my dick ain't no toothpick/
frick, it goes deeper then a fire pit/
quick boy take another hit/
spit at you some rhymes that'll make you lit/
yah thats right this is just a little bit/
cuz what i got is mad ass hits/
make you go so crazy like a fucking brit/
so just shut up you stupid tit/
cuz the fact is you got not shit

HAHA... just kiddin... anythin in there means nothing have fun keep on rHyMin doode

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aite kid...same wit dis shit...


let's b realistic, yo shit was simplistic/
ain't no rapper if u rhyme like limp-bizkit/
i eat beef juss 2 shit on tha competition/
2 leave ya in a position of critical condition/
u ain't no 'tyger' when yo 'style' is like a cub/
ferocious & dangerous...none of tha above/
no need 2 talk bout ur toothpick-dick-son/
u battlin me iz uzeless like tits-on-a-nun/
'n look at dis fag comin outta tha closet/
juss watch how i turn his flow off like a faucet/
my lines r like drugs - it's dope/
u got no hope, my rhymes never clean even if i spit bars of soap/

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haha nice nice... here we go...

and im gonna be comin to yah block/
wit mah big ass glock hocked wit my clock/
you gonna wish you never messed wit mah flock/
cuz damn right im a fuckin rock/
take yo ass to the docks/
weigh you down wit a buncha locks/
drown yo ass like the others in my wake/
so don't call me kid or you'll end up in the lake/
you stupid flake/
so take a step bak before you get baked from my rhymes/
cuz the fact is all yo doin is wastin mah time/
yo rhymes are so sour they're worse then a lime/
cuz boy im in my prime/
all i need to do is climb over yo dead body/
cuz fact is you ain't no hotty/
so jus go use the potty you little baby ess3nce/
i'll make you pay your penance/
cuz to me your an annoyance, so good riddance...

haha fun fun

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u began wit 'and' on both verses' first lines/
wut u tryin 2 come at me off my rhymes?/
i'm sorry but dis kids got no sense of flow/
that shits more choppy than a sushi chef's show/
me a waste of your time? y bother-replyin?/
stop lyin, u'd b on dis even if ur own mother-was-dyin/
but Tyger couldn't spot me if he brought-a-sniper/
u ain't droppin shit cuz it gits caught-by-ur-diapers/
talkin bout a potty 'n u in ur prime is a joke/
i had dis battle b4 the time-he-even-spoke/
i'll even record dis juss so u knoe i said-it/
i'm so ill Tyger ran away wit tha paramedics/

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HAHA Sorrie took a while to reply... just haven't had time to hit you back... don't think i would back out so easily did you?? HAHA well heres my 3rd go...

you talkin like you got somethin on me/
but the fact is you got nothing that i see/
all i see is some bitch in a skin tight T/
beggin to be set free/
from all taht gayness in yo rhymes/
goddamn its a crime/
how i slaughter you time after time/
so heres a dime to ease that pain/
cuz the fact is im yo bane/
comin in yo lane, fuckin up yo brain/
bringin you down from fame/
cuz fact is yo raps are lame/
cuz im the main attraction/
bringin crowds satisfaction/
in my crazy ass actions/
make yo ass bust from a bad reaction/
and yo rhymes need captions/
cuz all you do is talk jibberish/
so don't even act like you the ish/
cuz to me your jus another guppy and im the big fish/
you'll just end up on my dish/
and make you wish, you never messed with this//

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that wack verse juss made me chuckle-n-twitch/
so i'm bak wit a platter of knuckle-sandwich/
2 serve ur ass a mouthful, leave 'em toothless/
knoe wut tha truth-is, Ess3ncE is ruthless/
cuz he injectin ya mind wit verbal venom/
wit more questions than Guess denim/
flowin through ya veins, splits, watch how it hits/
crushin Tyger's brain 'n optics into one, that fits/
wit all that bullshit u spit/
i'll make u drown in ur own saliva/
if u so sick, how tha doctors gonna revive-ya?/
i bring life to words like Steven Spielberg/
while u ain't bein heard, i drop lines at speeds/
endin ur life 'n ur seeds, before u even proceed to bleed/
yo rhymin is poor, wit open hands take my 2 pence/
cuz all that blah blah blah ain't makin no 'cents'/


3 rounds 'n it's ova...nice lil verbal spar tyger...holla bak

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es·sence (n.) -
1. The intrinsic or indispensable properties that serve to characterize or identify something.

2. The most important ingredient; the crucial element.

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nice rhymes man... it was fun

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