Da p.i.m.p.z
Repersentin MY CREW!!!
thebestest:allah.aloe.e2.kno.korycalico.sime.soulstice:collab!
E2 :
You fags could have had divinity, but you add validity
To lagged ability and verify no magnanimity
I make stars coil when I drop phat like lard oil
And gargoyles get parboiled and charbroiled
Left devastated, disgruntled commodities grunted in sodomy
But couldn’t give me “piece of mind” with a frontal lobotomy
I stymied the first fray where the tiniest earth lays
Where I’ll die on the mic on my ninetieth birthday
The doctor got me a stripper at birth, for this sicker man’s verse
But the only “fly moves” that I got, my zipper had first
Yet I tote fact- for my flow broke complexions, where ghosts stroke reflections
-of me trying to toke crack in the no-smoking section
At 19 my brain is already showing the strain, not knowing in vain
That I’ll talk to myself to keep from going insane
I’m pained- but giving “heads” hard-on’s till their pants would swell
While your skills are like an ice cube, they aint got a “chance in hell” Fight fans’ hands’ clump
when their flight plan stands stumped
I’ll take your wallet at gunpoint, who says white men cant “jump”?
You’re a gimp in a brute’s boot, while I’m crimping the youth’s root
Prowling the streets, I’m a P.I.M.P. with a zoot suit
sime:
i paint emotional visions via my colloQuialisms,
a lotta cats seem to make decisions w/ Pinnochio`s wisdom.
i`ma halfway Tokyo prison,many bars, no Asian flavor,
who`s such a bitter raver you`d think i bathe in rancor.
enslave the saviour. i live A jaded Separate Reality,
display majestic galaxies in faded eclectic galleries.
i`ve slayed the cess and falacy, a modern conQuistador,
hesitant to Fall, escaping Autumn`s leafs and thorns.
a rotten beast of scorn, with a passion for contempt,
who`s thrashing words of pent over crashing chords of Lent.
the last thing the Lord had said consists of cloudy interpretations,
with rowdy participation, repeat, “i`m proud to be birthed in satan”
a cloud of precipitation lingers over those who fail to listen,
while most have hailed tradition, new trails allow the pail to glisten.
i tell tales of superstition, n0n-fiction spun with bomb diction,
ready 2 pMp my prom victim, 1 nite stint w/ blonde v i x en.
Allah:
I write the bomb, honestly, I could ignite my palms
I’m like ya moms, you wouldn’t fuck with me even subconsciously
Can’t a “sub” rock with me, czu I’m always “starting” shit,
In project hallway arguments, shine in a cypher, till each apartment’s lit
Freestyling all of it, there’s evidence too
I can’t read or write yet, shit, I’ve never been schooled
P.I.M.P.z destined to rule, think death with Christ Jesus might save you?
I’m type able to strangle angels with mic cables so invite Gabriel,
Off the deep end, fuck sleeping on wack shit I’m comatosin’
Kids couldn’t come ill with hepatitis coated Trojans
My text reigns after a sex change, I’d remain the man,
My brain commands the balance to head stand on a grain of sand
Contain a plan? your crews holds more nuts than ho’s hands,
Like a paralyzed man’s “last stand”, you got no chance
I got no fans, so I stay hot, this place got
More fake shaking than Baywatch, I spray glocks
Connecting face shots, in lame cocks, like aids patents going impotent
Flow intricate, burn heads like syphilis, spreads to witnesses that beware the instruments,
Seeing me that’s like a deep sea diver seeing fire,
Please keep me quiet, cuz my diseased speech breeds violence
((SoulStice)):
I produce the adhesive that’s got you stuck on stupid/
abusive music produces such ludicrous lucidness/
that I’m confusin’ kids until no truth exists/
besides the flows I transmit over computer chips/
The missing link foils all attempts to chain me/
my physical frame behaves strangely/
like gas, I expand to fill any chamber that contains me/
My brain reads the feeds that pain needs/
to travel from ya nerves to ya consciousness/
stompin’ ya confidence from ya tongue back in the space where ya tonsils fit/
you amateurs can’t fuck wit a master of iambic pentameter/
smack ya so hard you’ll regress, sprouting antlers and animal fur/
I find knockin’ in ya teeth pleasing/
snatch the progressive verbs you need to keep ‘breathing’/
I write dynamic text that changes with each reading/
I’ll bend your spinal axel backwards/
you bastards’ll find it impossible to battle masters/
you’ll speak first, but get the ‘last word’ cuz my soundwaves travel faster/
a superhuman/ mortals may find the truth’s I’m usin’ too confusin’/
you bite with minimal taste/ most of what I write’s a venerable waste/
cuz five-eighths of every verse exists in eight-dimensional space/
you can digest less than you try to consume/
like comprehending the fact that I started life in a tomb/
living backwards ’till I’m born and then I’ll die in the womb/
I’ll fight a platoon of ambitious imbeciles/
infantile men tend to scowl at the way I blend the vowels/
my cycloptic eye-beams/ can melt flesh like ice cream/
try some grammatic hygeine/
to clean those wack verses ya hid-ing behind a multi-syllabic ryhme scheme/
…bitch.
AloeVera:
I return to attica as a by-choice inmate,
flippin` rhymes in circles and invoice spin-rates,
word`s made and composed to make mind states explode,
line raids expose loads of illness swellin lymph-nodes,
info overloads questions of serinity and sanity,
poppin` lid`s off uncannaly like a backwards cannery,
P.I.M.P.-in`s in demand and hoes are in quantity,
battle us and get your ass battered and beat awfully,
get off cuz we get on all the shit that`s worth gettin` on,
and kick down all the tracks to yall that aint worth spittin on,
kickin shit sicker than ilness like writtin hepititus,
getting in the air like pollen and cloud up kids sinus,
a fully fledged ho slapper, pledged with asurance to the game,
I don`t even need to describe myself, it`s in our crew name,
Aloe`s an incredible, un-edited, un-edibile veteran,
Hit like excederin, couldn`t cure my illness with all the medicine,
Battle kid`s with after-thoughts poundin` harder than aftershocks,
Make kid`s laughing stocks by the dock`s, one of the baddest dog,
This here collab is being brought to you by the P.I.M.P. team,
The females jockin` us so hard it`s like impossible to keep our dicks clean.
Kno:
P.I.M.P. stronger / Its no longer just an idle job title
React when us cats spit wisdom like slob Bibles
We rob rivals of trophies / Higher than both knees
Attached to your Mom’s thighs when I inject my Kno seed
Ho please! / You’re not even qualified to “hold deez”
Your rhymes? Pointless like Telly Savalis usin ‘Fro Sheen
We blow clean thru ya chest plate if you try to slip closer
Rip ya posters…Your CD? Just a shiny drink coaster
You think “holster” but then realize you got no gun in it
Rip ten freestyles meanwhile you couldn’t form one sentence
Fun isn’t it? / You “come up short” like sunk midgets
We high like the water level of a pool with Big Pun in it
Come wit it! / That writers block excuse is gettin old
You won’t sell : Like Playboy with a Mother Theresa centerfold
Got you outgunned ten fold / Quit playin stupid / Blaming tumors
Before ya entrails get spread across the net like Em and Dre gay rumors…
Kory Calico:
Calico is…
The Angel Of Death, Claiming your breath, with Dangerous Text
Strangling Necks, of anyone Claiming to Test, My Anger supressed
..Holding back Eons of Hate and Frustration
The breaking between Heroes and Tyrants who create unjust Nations
Test me on the session, I bless beyond perfection
and when it come to eating niggas, I could give Jeffrey Dahmer Lessons
Text Beyond Direction, pretenders crack when touched
Continuum Chancellor, blow your staff to dust
and I couldn’t be a follower walking in your shadow plus
after waxin ya, squad..the end results of the massacre??..
Yo, you coulnd’t flow with the use of a Catheter…
with an unatural ease, I baffle emcees who ain’t half of my steez
cause they have a worse reputation for bitin than Adam and Eve
emcees claim they ill,…I’m a Walking Plague..
your first mistake is often made, pursuing my Awesome Rage
Touch me??…you’re lucky if you crawl much less walk away
Accordingly, authorities want my abusive music locked away
your tape is often played refused and tossed away
My demo wouldn’t get passed over during Jewish Holidays
your is crew is knocked and sprayed, the force like steel tecs
with Sharp rhymes and ill text, designed to peel chests
of rappers who are gassed like Convicts with no appeals left
steel gat rap, coupled with explosive poems, my prose alone
enough to leave you with cracked ribs, back split and broken bones
Nicest, while your like a Surrogate Mother….you never hold your own
The Master of Invincible Skill Its simple I’m Ill
Rap Willie Hutch, p.i.m.p:in’ the pen while you simpletons kneel..
p.i.m.p.`z
can:you:feel:it?
allah.aloe.e2.kno.korycalico.sime.soulstice