Umh, beats to bless
Rhymes inappropriate like a see-through vest.
A fat guy's nipple,
That line hit you
Like that sly cripple,
On Valentines
Wit' a 9 pistol
it's clear as my
Spat shine crystal
balls
That I calls the shots here
Not mere poppin' of pop references
Stop, entrance is
barred//
You are not welcome,
Dude I got a fire suit
I'm cooler when Hell come/
that's my cold heart,
The flow's art and on point as a thrown dart/
your dude's eye be the bulls eye,
For the crap he ink
Beat 'em wit' a selfie-stick,
Peoples left cursin'
(voetsek!)
Him a bad person//
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Mpondo, a guy with a cold vein
a rapper who might take offense from his own name,
(ubiza ban ngeMpondo wena?)
Depends on your tone
I'm not your bro spare those jokes for friends of your own/
and ow, did I mention the coldness?
Walks around kicking knock-knock jokes to the homeless
(small ndakazo) dude I've been evil,
Attended those kiddy balloon parties baring needles//
With your daughter, the end unfolded hard,
"conceal the bite marks parents know my calling card,"
Who was on the job?
It's the rhymin' geek,
Whom popped cherries in a child's game of Hide n' Seek,
Use to be quite slick
as a minor,
Near expired condoms now await for some vagina,
Come on girls, give it to the so-called master
a gifted word-twister like your local pastor//
Photos