2.04.2006
INTERLUDE: The Rod Of Orcus
Rupert's torture in hell continued unabated. Until finally...
"Hello there Mr... Rupert, something. Ex-paladin. Yes? Do I have the right chap?"
With what remained of his left eye and face, Rupert looked down at the demon from where he was crucified. Despite being impaled through the neck, he found he could talk. "Yes," he croaked. "I think. Does it really matter anymore? Who gives a shit who or what I once was?"
The demon nodded, took off his overcoat, put down his briefcase, and sat down on the small torturer's stool. "Hello there Mr. Rupert. I'm Rollodytes Klaathura. You can call me Mr. Rollo if you'd like."
"Fuck off."
The demon was taken aback. "As you wish." He put his coat back on, picked up his case, and walked off into the plains of Hell. "Ha ha ha... bastard..." Rupert spat. He could see the demon nodding hello to the approaching torturers. Come back for the show after dinner... Rupert thought to himself before succumbing to the pain.
...
"Hello again, Mr. Rupert. Had enough?"
The demon was closer this time, looking at Rupert right in the face. Rupert was suspended horizontally on a pole shoved all the way through his torso, the bloody, gore-covered tip sprung grotesquely out his mouth. Again to his surprise, Rupert found himself able to vocalize.
"What the hell do you want."
The demon smiled. "Excellent question. I'd like to help you out of the... situation you find yourself in. Sound pleasant?"
"Go to hell." Rupert laughed at his joke, coughing up thick blood all over his pole. "You know why I'm here. You know what I did."
"Killed your wife, a priestess of Isaac of the Jug, and renounced your faith. All just before dying in a most horrible way. It's all here in your file." The demon waved a manila folder with a small blue tag on the edge.
"Yes by god yes... This... this is what I deserve! No, I don't want HELP with my SITUATION. Fuck you and fuck your... oh god... oh god..." Rupert's pain and grief overtook him and sobs rolled down his face, diluting some of the black blood smeared about his mouth.
"Well, have a nice day." Mr. Rollo took his leave.
...
The third time the demon came, Rupert's torture was just beginning. His left foot had been placed in a vice. Mr. Rollo watched his foot get crushed into pulp, listening to Rupert's screams, all in silence, before approaching him again.
Rupert scowled. "Nice day for a stroll asshole. Just wait til you see what happens next."
Mr. Rollo sighed. "This is all... unnecessary, my dear fellow. Haven't you repented enough? Haven't you suffered enough? Need I remind you that your wife had you conned, or more specifically, had you charmed? Under her control? But this is all ancient history; the present state is unaffected by your past. No no," he said, turning to the torturers. "Don't yet take out his tongue. Mr. Rupert and I wish to have a little chat. Why don't you chaps run off, grab a cool one? Come on back in twenty?" The torturers shrugged and left.
"Why... what is it you want?"
Mr. Rollo smiled, briefly. "Nothing I want, son. It's the boss. Thinks you can do some good. Up there. Or at least, take revenge for a bit. Worst that happens? You just come back down here and get back on your pole."
"Alright. Tell me more."
"Well, Orcus, the big man, has some trouble with Zel... mm. Let me start over. Have you heard of the Rod of Orcus?"
"Rod of Orcus? Sure... no, wait. The Wand, The Wand of Orcus, it's like an artifact or something," said Rupert.
"Yes, but surely you've heard of 'Rod, Staff, Wand'?" Mr. Rollo cocked a knowing eye.
Rupert frowned. "Wha? No, that's, that's like a saving throw or something. What are you talking about?"
Mr. Rollo nodded. "Orcus has a wand, a staff, and a rod. Now the wand and staff are in good hands." The demon smiled at his pun. "But the rod... it seems to have gone... missing."
"And you want me to return to the world and find Orcuses goddamn rod. Orcus sucks, fuck you, you can tell him I said that. See ya."
"Now wait just a minute. It turns out that 'missing' isn't exactly the right word. We know who has it... some followers of Zelba, that bitch goddess who should've stayed dead. Seems that she's trying to take over some of Orcus' control of the undead, and this just isn't good. Shareholders getting worried and all that."
Mr. Rollo continued. "And... some of these followers of Zelba... let's just say you're a friend of a friend."
Rupert's eyes widened. "You mean..."
"Yes, I mean you'd want to start by hunting down the guys who killed you. It'd be a good first step."
Rupert began to say something, then stopped, and thought for a second.
"Okay," was the last word he uttered as a soul damned in hell.
...
Rupert looked around at the armoury of Orcus as he was being fitted for his black, rusted plate mail. "Okay, so now what happens?"
Mr. Rollo smiled. "Well, you're a fallen paladin. Makes you the best contender... only contender, really, to become a Death Knight. You'll probably want to begin by finding an evil steed, an Unholy Sword, that sort of stuff, before deciding to exact vengeance and bringing down the church of Zelba."
"No problem. Sounds like fun. I mean, what's the worst that can happen? They kill me? 'You can't fire me, I quit!' Ha ha ha." Rupert and Mr. Rollo shared a laugh.
"But... there's just one thing..." said Mr. Rollo, frowning.
"What's that?"
"It's small... just a detail really."
Rupert looked confused. "No, come on. What do you mean?"
"Well," said Mr. Rollo, spreading his hands in a placating gesture. "It's... it's your name. Your name, really."
Rupert grew angry. "What's wrong with my goddamn NAME?!"
"Rupert? Rupert the Death Knight? This isn't going to work, really, for us. How about... Lord Vladamir Death Knight?"
Rupert was outraged. "Vlada... no. No, that's retarded. Rupert is fine."
"No, I'm sorry son, but it's not. Okay, hmm... what about Sir Mourgrym Revanence?"
...
(One hour later...)
Rupert sat down, tired. "No, all those names suck."
"Lord Roderick Skullbones?"
"No... no, okay. Nevermind. Roderick Skullbones is fine. 'Skullbones'... that doesn't even make any sense."
"It doesn't have to make sense, it just has to scare some peasants, you know, drum up some press."
"Whatever. Let's get this show on the road."
"Yes... yes sir, Lord Skullbones."
"Hello there Mr... Rupert, something. Ex-paladin. Yes? Do I have the right chap?"
With what remained of his left eye and face, Rupert looked down at the demon from where he was crucified. Despite being impaled through the neck, he found he could talk. "Yes," he croaked. "I think. Does it really matter anymore? Who gives a shit who or what I once was?"
The demon nodded, took off his overcoat, put down his briefcase, and sat down on the small torturer's stool. "Hello there Mr. Rupert. I'm Rollodytes Klaathura. You can call me Mr. Rollo if you'd like."
"Fuck off."
The demon was taken aback. "As you wish." He put his coat back on, picked up his case, and walked off into the plains of Hell. "Ha ha ha... bastard..." Rupert spat. He could see the demon nodding hello to the approaching torturers. Come back for the show after dinner... Rupert thought to himself before succumbing to the pain.
...
"Hello again, Mr. Rupert. Had enough?"
The demon was closer this time, looking at Rupert right in the face. Rupert was suspended horizontally on a pole shoved all the way through his torso, the bloody, gore-covered tip sprung grotesquely out his mouth. Again to his surprise, Rupert found himself able to vocalize.
"What the hell do you want."
The demon smiled. "Excellent question. I'd like to help you out of the... situation you find yourself in. Sound pleasant?"
"Go to hell." Rupert laughed at his joke, coughing up thick blood all over his pole. "You know why I'm here. You know what I did."
"Killed your wife, a priestess of Isaac of the Jug, and renounced your faith. All just before dying in a most horrible way. It's all here in your file." The demon waved a manila folder with a small blue tag on the edge.
"Yes by god yes... This... this is what I deserve! No, I don't want HELP with my SITUATION. Fuck you and fuck your... oh god... oh god..." Rupert's pain and grief overtook him and sobs rolled down his face, diluting some of the black blood smeared about his mouth.
"Well, have a nice day." Mr. Rollo took his leave.
...
The third time the demon came, Rupert's torture was just beginning. His left foot had been placed in a vice. Mr. Rollo watched his foot get crushed into pulp, listening to Rupert's screams, all in silence, before approaching him again.
Rupert scowled. "Nice day for a stroll asshole. Just wait til you see what happens next."
Mr. Rollo sighed. "This is all... unnecessary, my dear fellow. Haven't you repented enough? Haven't you suffered enough? Need I remind you that your wife had you conned, or more specifically, had you charmed? Under her control? But this is all ancient history; the present state is unaffected by your past. No no," he said, turning to the torturers. "Don't yet take out his tongue. Mr. Rupert and I wish to have a little chat. Why don't you chaps run off, grab a cool one? Come on back in twenty?" The torturers shrugged and left.
"Why... what is it you want?"
Mr. Rollo smiled, briefly. "Nothing I want, son. It's the boss. Thinks you can do some good. Up there. Or at least, take revenge for a bit. Worst that happens? You just come back down here and get back on your pole."
"Alright. Tell me more."
"Well, Orcus, the big man, has some trouble with Zel... mm. Let me start over. Have you heard of the Rod of Orcus?"
"Rod of Orcus? Sure... no, wait. The Wand, The Wand of Orcus, it's like an artifact or something," said Rupert.
"Yes, but surely you've heard of 'Rod, Staff, Wand'?" Mr. Rollo cocked a knowing eye.
Rupert frowned. "Wha? No, that's, that's like a saving throw or something. What are you talking about?"
Mr. Rollo nodded. "Orcus has a wand, a staff, and a rod. Now the wand and staff are in good hands." The demon smiled at his pun. "But the rod... it seems to have gone... missing."
"And you want me to return to the world and find Orcuses goddamn rod. Orcus sucks, fuck you, you can tell him I said that. See ya."
"Now wait just a minute. It turns out that 'missing' isn't exactly the right word. We know who has it... some followers of Zelba, that bitch goddess who should've stayed dead. Seems that she's trying to take over some of Orcus' control of the undead, and this just isn't good. Shareholders getting worried and all that."
Mr. Rollo continued. "And... some of these followers of Zelba... let's just say you're a friend of a friend."
Rupert's eyes widened. "You mean..."
"Yes, I mean you'd want to start by hunting down the guys who killed you. It'd be a good first step."
Rupert began to say something, then stopped, and thought for a second.
"Okay," was the last word he uttered as a soul damned in hell.
...
Rupert looked around at the armoury of Orcus as he was being fitted for his black, rusted plate mail. "Okay, so now what happens?"
Mr. Rollo smiled. "Well, you're a fallen paladin. Makes you the best contender... only contender, really, to become a Death Knight. You'll probably want to begin by finding an evil steed, an Unholy Sword, that sort of stuff, before deciding to exact vengeance and bringing down the church of Zelba."
"No problem. Sounds like fun. I mean, what's the worst that can happen? They kill me? 'You can't fire me, I quit!' Ha ha ha." Rupert and Mr. Rollo shared a laugh.
"But... there's just one thing..." said Mr. Rollo, frowning.
"What's that?"
"It's small... just a detail really."
Rupert looked confused. "No, come on. What do you mean?"
"Well," said Mr. Rollo, spreading his hands in a placating gesture. "It's... it's your name. Your name, really."
Rupert grew angry. "What's wrong with my goddamn NAME?!"
"Rupert? Rupert the Death Knight? This isn't going to work, really, for us. How about... Lord Vladamir Death Knight?"
Rupert was outraged. "Vlada... no. No, that's retarded. Rupert is fine."
"No, I'm sorry son, but it's not. Okay, hmm... what about Sir Mourgrym Revanence?"
...
(One hour later...)
Rupert sat down, tired. "No, all those names suck."
"Lord Roderick Skullbones?"
"No... no, okay. Nevermind. Roderick Skullbones is fine. 'Skullbones'... that doesn't even make any sense."
"It doesn't have to make sense, it just has to scare some peasants, you know, drum up some press."
"Whatever. Let's get this show on the road."
"Yes... yes sir, Lord Skullbones."
The End Of The Battle
Okay, you've made your case. The crowd goes nuts for awhile, until the lights go out. A hush again falls over the crowd, and a single spotlight shines down on John Romeo's dwarf announcer.
It’s Don Rick at your servs
Your rap battle hors d’oeuvres
With permission to swerves
Before you get your deserves
I just wrote this poem
For he who take it on hoem
If you’re an ettin or gnoem
So give it up for the Roem
John Romeo takes the microphone.
Thanks to Don Rickles- Now I’m back on the stage
First seat, first place Read it on the front page
Solo adventure- just me ‘Gainst a priest and a mage
And a few other suckas who’ll suffer my rage.
Now John Romeo read you a little tale of woes
About these five special homies who don’t even knows
You can go buy this adventure down at the book sto’s
JR1: J Rome… Versus Some Fucking Homos.
Our adventure begins in a bar as it should
Now I’m tellin the truth like I speak Lawful Good
Romeo large countin Gs gems and jewels
When, Alertness Check made, in come some damn fools!
One’s a thief who be frontin Forgettin he’s far from Durth
Steppin like he back home on crap Blackwall crap turf
JR asks him nicely Gotta cough up the dough
If he want to thief… Unless he want to go.
With part two the DM’s got a textbox to read
Outloud bout these NPCs who think they PC’d
The thief’s lips start a flappin, like he’s makin a queef
About how he who be ye thee original Thief?
J Rome rolls init rolls a crit gets a hit
But knows that a bar fight just ain’t that legit
Tells the thief and his friends to step over to C’s
To battle it out, with his fags versus meeze.
Part three now the climax where the story unwind
Imagine the J man in the back of your mind
The Cold Cut Collective, the scene of the fight
Thank gods J’s equipped with a Rod Lordly Might!
Then there’s some stuff that happens, I won’t bore you to tears
Suffice it to say that this rap battle takes years
Some crystal moron blasts in, and a zombie, half-orcs
But at last Romeo has defeated those dorks.
10,000 xp plus roll treasure type BLING
My reward from the DM for the lyrics I sing
All in char, my alignment, plus I role-played this good
My game was in-game like you knew that it would.
That’s the end of the story, this module’s come to close
Where J Rome walks away with the BLING and some hos
You can turn off the lights and please close de dos
Tune in once again when J Rome fights more foes!
And that concludes the Cold Cut Collective. The crowd goes wild for the hometown favorite of course. The judges, a halfing, an elf bard, and two humans consult for a while, while some house music plays.
"We have reached a conclusion," announces Boromir V, halfling cleric of Yondolla Greensleeves. "While there were many great rappers here today, it is clear that three in particular were outstanding and deserving of bronze, silver, and of course... the gold medal."
"The most original, most outstanding artist today... is the Crystal Love. We as judges feel that rather than getting bogged down in personal attacks, Crys Love's message of Love is timely and rises above the standard battling we're all used to here. One Love, y'all. One Love."
"Unfortunately, the Crystal Love is no longer with us. Anyone who can track him down, we'll pay a 1000 gp reward. We set aside the gold medal and crown until his much desired return."
"Total bullshit," says John Romeo. "Who- what the fuck even was that guy? I bet he's not even on the goddamn signup sheet."
"Moving along, the silver medal goes to... and this was a hard decision, ladies and gentlemen. The silver medal goes to... Brogg&Cinder&Dave&Marivhon&Mike&Renwick. Next time guys, have a group name, okay? Well done. You have some superior lyrics and comedy gold. Well, comedy silver. You can pick up your medals here at the table, along with 1000 gp and 3000 xp apiece. Nicely done. Let's give them a hand."
The crowd applauds, and Boromir V continues. "Finally, of course, the one and only John Romeo takes the bronze!" The crowd yells its approval. Romeo walks over to the table, grabs the medal, tosses it into the crowd, and flips you the bird. "See you later, asswipes. God that was LAME!" He stalks out of the Triple C Brewery.
"One Love, y'all," says Boromir again shaking his head. "There's no reason to be a dick about it and take it all personal. We were just having some fun, isn't that right?" The crowd screams its approval once again.
So there it is. Well done everyone. The xp acquired is sufficient to level... well I don't know because the website I usually check is down right now. At least it levels Renwick. So go ahead and take that level Renwick... spend 200 gp, plus another 100 gp if you want special training for +2 hp and one NWP (it's a good bargain). You can take time to do spell research if you want also, but it'll cost you.
We'll now take a week-long break.
2.03.2006
Brogg:
Thanks lil’ Marv,
I’m gonna step in
But dis rhyme is for
My other half-of-kin
Ashdautas vrasubatlat Romeo,
Ragnack undur kurv
Nar udautas, vajaz olturv!
Ambor mabas gruiuk
Mirdautas vras gark
Vrasubatburuk ug butharubatgruiuk!
Romeo? Zemarpak.
Brogg? Kopak.
Tonight? Kangtaum!
Mirdautas Klodh!
Damn straight, a half-breed MC
Droppin rhymes mono, or multilingually!
Usted no entiende?
Je suis désolé
Dat is droevig
Auf Wiedersehen!
I’m gonna step in
But dis rhyme is for
My other half-of-kin
Ashdautas vrasubatlat Romeo,
Ragnack undur kurv
Nar udautas, vajaz olturv!
Ambor mabas gruiuk
Mirdautas vras gark
Vrasubatburuk ug butharubatgruiuk!
Romeo? Zemarpak.
Brogg? Kopak.
Tonight? Kangtaum!
Mirdautas Klodh!
Damn straight, a half-breed MC
Droppin rhymes mono, or multilingually!
Usted no entiende?
Je suis désolé
Dat is droevig
Auf Wiedersehen!
Marivhon
Crystal G.
You a PC?
Fix the world?
Play the game how you wan'it to be?
Don't think so!
You an NPC?
Sittin back drinkin fo'tys, is E-Z..
Taken lead from levar pullin pussies.
Got game?
Rollin dice; mak'in saves against the DC's?
No.
Hella no; you fudge bahind your screen with me!
Yellin no tis a crime a'gainst the PC's.
But Romeo is the one who's got a beef with we.
So boyz
Take it slow dealin' blows to that MC.
Keep the talk on the table
where its meant to be.
Cause these judges don't see the glory
that is thee..
triple crown triple c belongs to these hommiez.
even mike the zombie's beats shake the bootiez.
sad shame to be beatin by a zombie..
And I'll pass the mike now
to a worthy.
help me out get some xp.
You a PC?
Fix the world?
Play the game how you wan'it to be?
Don't think so!
You an NPC?
Sittin back drinkin fo'tys, is E-Z..
Taken lead from levar pullin pussies.
Got game?
Rollin dice; mak'in saves against the DC's?
No.
Hella no; you fudge bahind your screen with me!
Yellin no tis a crime a'gainst the PC's.
But Romeo is the one who's got a beef with we.
So boyz
Take it slow dealin' blows to that MC.
Keep the talk on the table
where its meant to be.
Cause these judges don't see the glory
that is thee..
triple crown triple c belongs to these hommiez.
even mike the zombie's beats shake the bootiez.
sad shame to be beatin by a zombie..
And I'll pass the mike now
to a worthy.
help me out get some xp.
C.G. Second Verse
The crowd is stunned for 1d6 rounds. As everyone comes to, John Romeo's all like "what the... what the fizz-uck was that?"
Stop and look and listen I’m a G up on a mission
Cause you’re wishin for ignition in this rhyming competition.
My statistician, my physician telling me my erudition
Shall secure a prime position so let’s rewind my repetition.
“Feeling? Great…”
Still mean it on today’s date
Got lots to say on my plate
I’m here to love not to hate
Cause I’m…
Hearin you spit
And…
Talkin the shit
About…
Me doin’ my bit
But…
Is it legit-amit?
Time’s a wastin y'all, don’t wanna hear my rap call?
Kick me outta this ball? Schwarzzen Total Recall?
All I spit in the hall while you wishin I fall
Is Love.
And that’s all.
Uh.
Sista, tell ‘em what they want
[Crystal Diva] Want a rock hard G, For you I be a lady
Sista tell ‘em what you got
[Crystal Diva] 38-24-33, silla-free double D
Sista tell ‘em how it goes
[Crystal Diva] With the flows I am yo’s
Sista tell ‘em what you knows
[Crystal Diva] Crys G: mad love to pimps and hos.
Aren’t the Knights of Armek outside? Can someone give me a ride?
To my insane other plane from whence this rapper hast flied.
Times a tickin quit your spittin quit your hatin’ Play abatin’
Cause I’m sayin you’re a-playin Got no love at your side.
In case you didn’t catch it Let me recap for you.
Crystal G? No, Crystal Love is what I came here to do.
Check my blady, Check my blingo, Check my b-lyrics and b-flow…
You know what? Oh just forget it. See you hatas later, yo.
The Crystal G takes hold of the diva, gets back in his Radio Flyer, and blasts out of the hall.The crowd is stunned for 1d6 rounds. As everyone comes to, John Romeo's all like "what the... what the fizz-uck was that?"
2.02.2006
Mike th Zombie 1k
Unngh - urngh ungatron
BRAINS BRAINS BRAINS til we get to dawn
I been a scarecrow
Yo, I stood on a pole
And I'm here to represent
The mad undead flow
Now you dancing and you movin and you shuffle your feet
Let's meet and greet the Grito Elite
I say UNNGH when I want to get it busy
And if you hear the 'BRAINS' then spin til you dizzy
Just throw your arms up halfway into the air
And wave 'em around - you got no organs, you don't care
Just a mad skeleton with some undead flesh
But the hip-hop that I'm bringing makes us feel all fresh
The zombie flow
The zombie flow
Let's all get busy
We know where to go
The zombie flow
The zombie flow
If you ain't gettin dizzy
Then quit doin' it slow
Now you might say 'Mike?'
And you might be scared
But I'm a Zombie Master
And I came prepared
Move your leg all sideways like it's broken at the knee
And tilt your head to the right - hey you there, like me
And now we do some stompin and we rock steady on
And what dance am I bringin til we get to dawn?
The zombie flow
The zombie flow
(BCDMR: Hey, whatcha know?
The zombie flow!)
It's not a floe, like you'd find on the ice
It's a flow, and it treats you nice
You want me to get up and make you some tea?
Shit. I'm a Zombie Master - now listen to me
Move across the floor
Like you don't know where you are
Just make damn sure
You tip our homies at the bar
Now we shufflin' and we funky and we feelin no pain
And I'm gonna tell you again and again
We do the zombie flow
The zombie flow
Hey Homeboys - what you say?
(We do the zombie flow!)
And ladies in the house?
(We love the zombie flow!)
The zombie flow
The zombie flow
Do it to and do it fro
It's the zombie flow
BRAINS BRAINS BRAINS til we get to dawn
I been a scarecrow
Yo, I stood on a pole
And I'm here to represent
The mad undead flow
Now you dancing and you movin and you shuffle your feet
Let's meet and greet the Grito Elite
I say UNNGH when I want to get it busy
And if you hear the 'BRAINS' then spin til you dizzy
Just throw your arms up halfway into the air
And wave 'em around - you got no organs, you don't care
Just a mad skeleton with some undead flesh
But the hip-hop that I'm bringing makes us feel all fresh
The zombie flow
The zombie flow
Let's all get busy
We know where to go
The zombie flow
The zombie flow
If you ain't gettin dizzy
Then quit doin' it slow
Now you might say 'Mike?'
And you might be scared
But I'm a Zombie Master
And I came prepared
Move your leg all sideways like it's broken at the knee
And tilt your head to the right - hey you there, like me
And now we do some stompin and we rock steady on
And what dance am I bringin til we get to dawn?
The zombie flow
The zombie flow
(BCDMR: Hey, whatcha know?
The zombie flow!)
It's not a floe, like you'd find on the ice
It's a flow, and it treats you nice
You want me to get up and make you some tea?
Shit. I'm a Zombie Master - now listen to me
Move across the floor
Like you don't know where you are
Just make damn sure
You tip our homies at the bar
Now we shufflin' and we funky and we feelin no pain
And I'm gonna tell you again and again
We do the zombie flow
The zombie flow
Hey Homeboys - what you say?
(We do the zombie flow!)
And ladies in the house?
(We love the zombie flow!)
The zombie flow
The zombie flow
Do it to and do it fro
It's the zombie flow
Brogg:
Oh Damn!
Brogg is steppin'
Crystal G's got me lettin'
Out rhymes!
Gonna blow your mind!
Oh I blew it before?!
Well then one mo time!
So people!
Yeah! People in da house
Get bouncin'
Bouncin to tha beat
Of me trouncin'
Sucka MCs!
Underfeet!
I said step to tha beat!
Cuz we!
Ain't got no time!
To listen
To a rappin' glass o' wine!
And this,
Yellow Montague!
Crown on his hat
Voting fo you!?
Let's party!
Til the night's thru!
Grab you a partner
You know what to do!
I got a posse!
I got a crew!
Cinda tha thief!
A Fist of Odin too!
We got a Monk!
That's lil' Marivhon!
Renwick's a wizard!
He got it goin on!
And yo!
The Undead parties too!
C'mon Mike tha Zombie!
Show em how we do!
Yeah, yeah!
So Crystal,
Go back to the future!
An' Romeo,
Drop tha crown you loser!
Triple Crown B
Is freakin til tha dawn!
And they need beats fo their feets!
Not yo shit that makes em yawn!
Brogg is steppin'
Crystal G's got me lettin'
Out rhymes!
Gonna blow your mind!
Oh I blew it before?!
Well then one mo time!
So people!
Yeah! People in da house
Get bouncin'
Bouncin to tha beat
Of me trouncin'
Sucka MCs!
Underfeet!
I said step to tha beat!
Cuz we!
Ain't got no time!
To listen
To a rappin' glass o' wine!
And this,
Yellow Montague!
Crown on his hat
Voting fo you!?
Let's party!
Til the night's thru!
Grab you a partner
You know what to do!
I got a posse!
I got a crew!
Cinda tha thief!
A Fist of Odin too!
We got a Monk!
That's lil' Marivhon!
Renwick's a wizard!
He got it goin on!
And yo!
The Undead parties too!
C'mon Mike tha Zombie!
Show em how we do!
Yeah, yeah!
So Crystal,
Go back to the future!
An' Romeo,
Drop tha crown you loser!
Triple Crown B
Is freakin til tha dawn!
And they need beats fo their feets!
Not yo shit that makes em yawn!
Dave, Fist of Odin
I gather with my posee backstage. "So - J-ro, no problem. We sat his ass down, feel me? But this Crystal G - he's pretty fly. So here's my plan..."
I take ten minutes and give my crew the beat I'm looking for. Then I cast Prayer. Taking a risk here - we'll need it.
Then I go onstage. In one hand I've got my mace, in the other my shield. I start banging them together, getting a simple beat going tap-tap-tap-tap-tap...
When a big guy wearing full plate gets on stage, banging a mace against a shield, it gets people's attention. My crew comes out, stands around, looking intent. They're ready.
What beat am I banging out? Motherfuckin' IRON MAN - on cue, my boyz moan out that first guitar bit that pulls you in.
"I AM DAVE, FIST OF ODIN!"
My crew starts doing the beat - and I'm beat-boxin my ASS off, doing all the guitar bits. It's kind of a pastiche from the song, pulling stuff from the intro, the guitar solo in the middle, and then finishing with the fast bit at the end. My crew keeps the beat, grounding me, not letting me take it too far.
How about a BR for skilz check? Motherfuckin' NATURAL TWENTY. I'm going to go ahead and say that the crowd is freakin'.
So right after the guitary bit (na-na-na, nanana, na-na-na, na na na na na na...), with no transition at all:
You nothin' but a fool steppin up on me
'Cuz I'm the one-and-only Fist of Odin D-A-V-E
And we battlin' J-Ro and the Crystal G,
but,
"How you get so funky?" What you say to me!
Now I come from the streets that're cold and mean
Where my delectorious rhyme skilz came to me in a dream
Now I ain't no local strokal or made of crystal that's - damn! - green
and,
"How'd you get so funky?" What you say to me!
(My crew starts the crowd off, but with that Iron Man intro and my fly rhyme skilz, they'll pick it up)
(How'd you get so funky?)
Awwww-yeah!
(How'd you get so funky?)
Hah-heh! Ha-heh, heh!
(How'd you get so funky?)
Look how fresh we be!
(How'd you get so funky?)
Straight up funky, see!
The crowd keeps going, "how'd you get so funky?" beat-beat-beat, "How'd you get so funky?" etc.
Respec my authority!
I take responsibility!
I'm the Fist of Odin
Spelled D-A-V-E!
And who's that I see?
J-R-O-M-E
You ain't no-one's homie
You just a fuckin' sleeze
You got shit on your knees
Crawl back to yo' mommie
And hey there Crystal G
You can't touch this, see!
I'm who I wanna be
I got genuinity
And lots of clarity
It's in the beats, you see
I blame my posee
To get you movin' bodies
The rhymes like climbin' trees
They like a swarm of bees
Elbows butts and knees
You shake 'em all funky
And you say "mo' please"
'Cuz I cure the disease
Until the break of dawn
Until the break of dawn
Until the bread of dawn
Until the break of dawn
.
.
.
Peace out!
My crew keeps the beat, and one by one they file off the stage, until only one rapper is left, laying down the thinnest, purest of beats. He looks around, shrugs, and . . . .
Next?
I take ten minutes and give my crew the beat I'm looking for. Then I cast Prayer. Taking a risk here - we'll need it.
Then I go onstage. In one hand I've got my mace, in the other my shield. I start banging them together, getting a simple beat going tap-tap-tap-tap-tap...
When a big guy wearing full plate gets on stage, banging a mace against a shield, it gets people's attention. My crew comes out, stands around, looking intent. They're ready.
What beat am I banging out? Motherfuckin' IRON MAN - on cue, my boyz moan out that first guitar bit that pulls you in.
"I AM DAVE, FIST OF ODIN!"
My crew starts doing the beat - and I'm beat-boxin my ASS off, doing all the guitar bits. It's kind of a pastiche from the song, pulling stuff from the intro, the guitar solo in the middle, and then finishing with the fast bit at the end. My crew keeps the beat, grounding me, not letting me take it too far.
How about a BR for skilz check? Motherfuckin' NATURAL TWENTY. I'm going to go ahead and say that the crowd is freakin'.
So right after the guitary bit (na-na-na, nanana, na-na-na, na na na na na na...), with no transition at all:
You nothin' but a fool steppin up on me
'Cuz I'm the one-and-only Fist of Odin D-A-V-E
And we battlin' J-Ro and the Crystal G,
but,
"How you get so funky?" What you say to me!
Now I come from the streets that're cold and mean
Where my delectorious rhyme skilz came to me in a dream
Now I ain't no local strokal or made of crystal that's - damn! - green
and,
"How'd you get so funky?" What you say to me!
(My crew starts the crowd off, but with that Iron Man intro and my fly rhyme skilz, they'll pick it up)
(How'd you get so funky?)
Awwww-yeah!
(How'd you get so funky?)
Hah-heh! Ha-heh, heh!
(How'd you get so funky?)
Look how fresh we be!
(How'd you get so funky?)
Straight up funky, see!
The crowd keeps going, "how'd you get so funky?" beat-beat-beat, "How'd you get so funky?" etc.
Respec my authority!
I take responsibility!
I'm the Fist of Odin
Spelled D-A-V-E!
And who's that I see?
J-R-O-M-E
You ain't no-one's homie
You just a fuckin' sleeze
You got shit on your knees
Crawl back to yo' mommie
And hey there Crystal G
You can't touch this, see!
I'm who I wanna be
I got genuinity
And lots of clarity
It's in the beats, you see
I blame my posee
To get you movin' bodies
The rhymes like climbin' trees
They like a swarm of bees
Elbows butts and knees
You shake 'em all funky
And you say "mo' please"
'Cuz I cure the disease
Until the break of dawn
Until the break of dawn
Until the bread of dawn
Until the break of dawn
.
.
.
Peace out!
My crew keeps the beat, and one by one they file off the stage, until only one rapper is left, laying down the thinnest, purest of beats. He looks around, shrugs, and . . . .
Next?
2.01.2006
Dave, Fist of Odin
I'm tired.
My throat's sore from beatboxin, and I've drank so many 40s that I've gone back to sober.
Now Crystal G's in the house? Shit. That's no good.
So. The first part's kinda spoken word.
Hey there Cystal G what you doin' here guy?
I'm the first to admit that your rhymin is fly
You got some good skilz and you gave it a try
But I'm sure of one thing that you gonna cry
(I'm looking less tired, and steppin' up)
I mean damn, sucka, we beat you before
And even if now you wash back up on our shore
You can try to ignore, you can look at the floor
But my chore once more is to show you the door
(changing the beat slightly, getting my groove on)
Now John Romeo, R-O-M-EO,
A straight ass sucka with a moderate flow
You might be thinkin' that he's gonna go
But compared to him you a fo-yeah-o
Now I introduced the posse and I gotta say
That we're all here now and we gonna stay
We got skilz we got beats and we got the way
To rock steady all night and party into the day
Li'l Marivhon's breaking and he's throwin' some rhymz
Renwick raps ain't droppin' no dymez
Cinder and Brogg pulling lyrical crymez
And I'm Dave, Fist of Odin
(Dave, Fist of Odin)
Yeah I'm Dave, Fist of Odin
(Who he say?) (Fist of Odin!)
D-D-Dave Fist of Odin her for clobberin' tymez
Cuz you ain't got nothin', sucka, you rhymes be tame
You like a mime in a cage - I mean Old School lame
The shit you bringin' it's all the same
Suckas and bitches - you call that game?
I don't gotta talk about it when it comes to tail
I just go and get me some fine female
You all frontin' and I'm thinking you spent time in jail
Maybe that's where you got the taste for male whale?
Yeah, you catch that there - I say you like the sperm
Hey - you gay? That's fine - you just gotta learn
To accept you'sef. Be who you gotta be
But when you all frontin' everyone can see
That you a stone cold loser full of hyp-hop-cracy
Yeah I'm callin' you a liar and a curvy-G
And you rhymin' like you study chemistry
And not rhymz like me
And my fly posse
See what I be?
Stone-cold thuggee
So set down son, let me show you how it's done
'Cuz my skilz be fresh and flavorful like hot-cross-buns
Pipin hot and tasty straight from the oven
With the way it's gotta be - I already won
Now the crowd be jumpin' and it's almost dawn
And I'm here to tell you that we gettin' it on
Body movin and-a-groovin and nobody gon'
Tell anyone to stop now just keep movin' along!
I pass the mic to...
My throat's sore from beatboxin, and I've drank so many 40s that I've gone back to sober.
Now Crystal G's in the house? Shit. That's no good.
So. The first part's kinda spoken word.
Hey there Cystal G what you doin' here guy?
I'm the first to admit that your rhymin is fly
You got some good skilz and you gave it a try
But I'm sure of one thing that you gonna cry
(I'm looking less tired, and steppin' up)
I mean damn, sucka, we beat you before
And even if now you wash back up on our shore
You can try to ignore, you can look at the floor
But my chore once more is to show you the door
(changing the beat slightly, getting my groove on)
Now John Romeo, R-O-M-EO,
A straight ass sucka with a moderate flow
You might be thinkin' that he's gonna go
But compared to him you a fo-yeah-o
Now I introduced the posse and I gotta say
That we're all here now and we gonna stay
We got skilz we got beats and we got the way
To rock steady all night and party into the day
Li'l Marivhon's breaking and he's throwin' some rhymz
Renwick raps ain't droppin' no dymez
Cinder and Brogg pulling lyrical crymez
And I'm Dave, Fist of Odin
(Dave, Fist of Odin)
Yeah I'm Dave, Fist of Odin
(Who he say?) (Fist of Odin!)
D-D-Dave Fist of Odin her for clobberin' tymez
Cuz you ain't got nothin', sucka, you rhymes be tame
You like a mime in a cage - I mean Old School lame
The shit you bringin' it's all the same
Suckas and bitches - you call that game?
I don't gotta talk about it when it comes to tail
I just go and get me some fine female
You all frontin' and I'm thinking you spent time in jail
Maybe that's where you got the taste for male whale?
Yeah, you catch that there - I say you like the sperm
Hey - you gay? That's fine - you just gotta learn
To accept you'sef. Be who you gotta be
But when you all frontin' everyone can see
That you a stone cold loser full of hyp-hop-cracy
Yeah I'm callin' you a liar and a curvy-G
And you rhymin' like you study chemistry
And not rhymz like me
And my fly posse
See what I be?
Stone-cold thuggee
So set down son, let me show you how it's done
'Cuz my skilz be fresh and flavorful like hot-cross-buns
Pipin hot and tasty straight from the oven
With the way it's gotta be - I already won
Now the crowd be jumpin' and it's almost dawn
And I'm here to tell you that we gettin' it on
Body movin and-a-groovin and nobody gon'
Tell anyone to stop now just keep movin' along!
I pass the mic to...
The Return Of...
Right as Brogg and John Romeo are battling it out, one of the judges stands up with the microphone, and begins to say:
"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm pleased to announce that the winner of this showdown is..."
But right then, right at that key moment, the building begins to shake. Everyone looks around confused... what is going on? A rumbling sound grows louder and louder, until finally there's a huge crash, and the back wall splits open! Through the crowd, and the smoke, and debris, this Radio Flyer red wagon hurtles towards the stage at high velocity. It loses some speed, hits a bump, sending its cargo flying into the center of the room.
There's a large lump of something covered in cloth.
A hush falls over the crowd. John Romeo stares in disbelief.
The cloth comes to life, turning into... a flag, no, a cloak, no... a strange shimmering evening gown. And standing in the middle of the floor is a tall woman... made of crystal!
Stepping out of the wagon to join her side is none other than...
The crystal diva begins to sing in a beautiful, beautiful voice.
Who be the one they call Crystal De-lite? It’s the G man
Who be the one that I call every night? G man
Who be the one that will win every fight? G man
Who be the one that hold me so tight? G man
Listen, mmm…. he’s got a smooth style
I’m preparing to watch all the ladies go wild
For my man the unbreakable, unfatigueable G
So put em up for the hero of this epic story
Then of course we have another:
I need no introdunction For your flava-free dys-function
Just a mic For col’ mic rockin Rhyme a-jockin up this junction
My gumption is quite somethin’ Bumpin’ humpin’ while I’m thumpin
Plump-n-pouty hos a-go-gos Yo’s I get this party jumpin’.
In-a case-a you forgetta I’m the one who make ya sweat-a
With my rhymes-a like Rosetta They the keystone for ya pleash-a
Fresh-n-tasty like pro-shetta or some feta, make it betta
So-a fella Fuck vendetta Just-a listen to my yella.
Crystal G if you plee thass wha yo lady call me
And I’m imparting for free Jus some knowl you might nee
Waive your fee so you see It is me who be he
Not for crowns or gps but smooth trooths for puss-ee.
When you listen to me You lose your virginity
You wan this rhyme’s baby An pay me Beaucoup gp
Yo’ lady sex me fo free Turn her over my knee
Hit it smack in the back Til she goin cray-zee
You may call me Crys G, Ph-D, The mi-tee
Take a sea- over there in the back by Heidi
My Ass Class comes to pass so start shakin boo-tee
Com-fee? Then bon nuit, Listen up to the G.
I’ve returned from the future with an unassailable rhyme
With flavor so young and so fresh in forty states it’s a crime
And now you may wonder why I’ve come back in time
I gotta clean up the streets and get you suckas in line
This con-test just a test of my patience and thirst
For some real rhyme jocks who can step up, and first,
Rock a party complete, from yo head to yo feet
And two, do what I do, like I do, hella sweet.
I’m like the tornado rippin down your rhyme trailer
Hurricane G they call me, Your rap judge and your jailor
Science produced my new flavor Shit I’m rap’s fucking savior
Studied booty behavior So read my thesis, ‘k? Later.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm pleased to announce that the winner of this showdown is..."
But right then, right at that key moment, the building begins to shake. Everyone looks around confused... what is going on? A rumbling sound grows louder and louder, until finally there's a huge crash, and the back wall splits open! Through the crowd, and the smoke, and debris, this Radio Flyer red wagon hurtles towards the stage at high velocity. It loses some speed, hits a bump, sending its cargo flying into the center of the room.
There's a large lump of something covered in cloth.
A hush falls over the crowd. John Romeo stares in disbelief.
The cloth comes to life, turning into... a flag, no, a cloak, no... a strange shimmering evening gown. And standing in the middle of the floor is a tall woman... made of crystal!
Stepping out of the wagon to join her side is none other than...
The crystal diva begins to sing in a beautiful, beautiful voice.
Who be the one they call Crystal De-lite? It’s the G man
Who be the one that I call every night? G man
Who be the one that will win every fight? G man
Who be the one that hold me so tight? G man
Listen, mmm…. he’s got a smooth style
I’m preparing to watch all the ladies go wild
For my man the unbreakable, unfatigueable G
So put em up for the hero of this epic story
Then of course we have another:
I need no introdunction For your flava-free dys-function
Just a mic For col’ mic rockin Rhyme a-jockin up this junction
My gumption is quite somethin’ Bumpin’ humpin’ while I’m thumpin
Plump-n-pouty hos a-go-gos Yo’s I get this party jumpin’.
In-a case-a you forgetta I’m the one who make ya sweat-a
With my rhymes-a like Rosetta They the keystone for ya pleash-a
Fresh-n-tasty like pro-shetta or some feta, make it betta
So-a fella Fuck vendetta Just-a listen to my yella.
Crystal G if you plee thass wha yo lady call me
And I’m imparting for free Jus some knowl you might nee
Waive your fee so you see It is me who be he
Not for crowns or gps but smooth trooths for puss-ee.
When you listen to me You lose your virginity
You wan this rhyme’s baby An pay me Beaucoup gp
Yo’ lady sex me fo free Turn her over my knee
Hit it smack in the back Til she goin cray-zee
You may call me Crys G, Ph-D, The mi-tee
Take a sea- over there in the back by Heidi
My Ass Class comes to pass so start shakin boo-tee
Com-fee? Then bon nuit, Listen up to the G.
I’ve returned from the future with an unassailable rhyme
With flavor so young and so fresh in forty states it’s a crime
And now you may wonder why I’ve come back in time
I gotta clean up the streets and get you suckas in line
This con-test just a test of my patience and thirst
For some real rhyme jocks who can step up, and first,
Rock a party complete, from yo head to yo feet
And two, do what I do, like I do, hella sweet.
I’m like the tornado rippin down your rhyme trailer
Hurricane G they call me, Your rap judge and your jailor
Science produced my new flavor Shit I’m rap’s fucking savior
Studied booty behavior So read my thesis, ‘k? Later.
1.31.2006
Brogg:
I grab the mic.
Here’s lil Romeo talking the smack
Yellin’ Power Kill, an’ casting Power Word Crap
Aight Romeo if that’s how you play
But dishin’ on Timberlake jus cuz he’s gay?
C’mon JR, at least the boy’s out
You’re like “I’m on the DL”, with balls in yo mouth!
16th level Bard? –You’re a Skald you retard!
No, with your 3 Charisma you ain’t even able
Here or lower you can only be Romeo
-Reads the Player's Handbook Cha Table!
And John, just cuz I fucked ya don’t mean that I’m gay
I just got a habit of treating bitches that way
And I’m hoping you’re ready, for a replay
Cuz my lyrics are gonna dog ya without the foreplay
Wait, what did I say in that lyrical display?
Did you fall prey to my dope communiqué?
Rhymes are coming from every which way!
You’re in disarray and I’m spittin’ away
C’mon think fast, for something to say!
Or is my wordplay too far underway?
Check your attache –oh, it’s full of cliché
What’s that?
You want to say something, to enter the fray?
John be careful, your rhymes are passe
And I’ve got more Charms than Morgan le Fay
-I’ll tell you what, John, let’s call it a day.
Cuz just like a ray from radioactive decay
Yo lyrics were sterilized by my fresh repartee!
But look at this sucka with a crown on his hat
Trying to self-promote John? You afraid of the vote?
You best put it down, or roll for combat.
That’s right, I said combat, you yellow-bellied crook
You think I keep this sword for the way that it looks?
-It’s power to the people at the Triple Crown B
And I think it’s up to them to choose the King of MCs.
I step up to Romeo.
Here’s lil Romeo talking the smack
Yellin’ Power Kill, an’ casting Power Word Crap
Aight Romeo if that’s how you play
But dishin’ on Timberlake jus cuz he’s gay?
C’mon JR, at least the boy’s out
You’re like “I’m on the DL”, with balls in yo mouth!
16th level Bard? –You’re a Skald you retard!
No, with your 3 Charisma you ain’t even able
Here or lower you can only be Romeo
-Reads the Player's Handbook Cha Table!
And John, just cuz I fucked ya don’t mean that I’m gay
I just got a habit of treating bitches that way
And I’m hoping you’re ready, for a replay
Cuz my lyrics are gonna dog ya without the foreplay
Wait, what did I say in that lyrical display?
Did you fall prey to my dope communiqué?
Rhymes are coming from every which way!
You’re in disarray and I’m spittin’ away
C’mon think fast, for something to say!
Or is my wordplay too far underway?
Check your attache –oh, it’s full of cliché
What’s that?
You want to say something, to enter the fray?
John be careful, your rhymes are passe
And I’ve got more Charms than Morgan le Fay
-I’ll tell you what, John, let’s call it a day.
Cuz just like a ray from radioactive decay
Yo lyrics were sterilized by my fresh repartee!
But look at this sucka with a crown on his hat
Trying to self-promote John? You afraid of the vote?
You best put it down, or roll for combat.
That’s right, I said combat, you yellow-bellied crook
You think I keep this sword for the way that it looks?
-It’s power to the people at the Triple Crown B
And I think it’s up to them to choose the King of MCs.
I step up to Romeo.
A -1 Ring Isn't Very Good
Ha ha one versus five yet I’m holdin my own
Cause I’m fuckin high level I’m the heir to the throne
Ain’t no need to worry all you ladies and pimps
Romeo back to take care of these gimps.
What’s your name over there? Yeah you in the robes
Oh I’m sorry ‘roabs’ that you ‘fond’ in the ‘clotes’?
What the fuck are you sayin? Don’t you mages done spell?
It’s like you’re postin ‘All your base’ man, shit, what the hell.
Those your verbal components? That’s the magic you bring?
I’d rather have backup from a minus one ring
Come on and cast Magic Missile! Let’s see your d4!
[To the crowd] I’m sorry bout him, move along, please ignore.
And now uh oh it’s Cinder here come a fifth level thief!
Yo I Climb Walls 99 while you cut on your teeth
Climbin over Blackwalls where I piss and relief
Port Fflar be the place for a real man, chief.
Now look here Dave Fister don’t log on replyin’
Go back to your temple before Rome make you cryin’
Oh wait your temple destroyed by the strong MoP
Odin’s a sucka just like your MC.
Well that about does it. I think the game’s done
You ain’t got no more quarters, and anyway I won
The crowd is fine, the crown is mine, but thanks for all the fun
John Romeo came, and saw, and rhymed, and now he gotta run.
John Romeo walks up to the judges table and puts the Triple C crown on his head.
Cause I’m fuckin high level I’m the heir to the throne
Ain’t no need to worry all you ladies and pimps
Romeo back to take care of these gimps.
What’s your name over there? Yeah you in the robes
Oh I’m sorry ‘roabs’ that you ‘fond’ in the ‘clotes’?
What the fuck are you sayin? Don’t you mages done spell?
It’s like you’re postin ‘All your base’ man, shit, what the hell.
Those your verbal components? That’s the magic you bring?
I’d rather have backup from a minus one ring
Come on and cast Magic Missile! Let’s see your d4!
[To the crowd] I’m sorry bout him, move along, please ignore.
And now uh oh it’s Cinder here come a fifth level thief!
Yo I Climb Walls 99 while you cut on your teeth
Climbin over Blackwalls where I piss and relief
Port Fflar be the place for a real man, chief.
Now look here Dave Fister don’t log on replyin’
Go back to your temple before Rome make you cryin’
Oh wait your temple destroyed by the strong MoP
Odin’s a sucka just like your MC.
Well that about does it. I think the game’s done
You ain’t got no more quarters, and anyway I won
The crowd is fine, the crown is mine, but thanks for all the fun
John Romeo came, and saw, and rhymed, and now he gotta run.
John Romeo walks up to the judges table and puts the Triple C crown on his head.
A Swift Retort
Oh Marivhon please You're just behind in xps
You're a 4th level what? Go fuckin Speak Animalese
I said speak on up son couldn't hear your last wheeze
Sound like 'John Romeo done cold better than meeze'
I'm a thief and a playa, 16th level bard in disguise
Arch-mage of illusions whose rhymes hypnotize
Rolled a 1 for your save cause I just won surprise
Got percentage to charm open locks and spread thighs
Think I'm rappin in China? Is that what you done said?
Maybe my words were too big and couldn't fit in your head
Studied cold Webster's every night before bed
Spittin top of the class while you're back in Spesh Ed
You a monk now? Nice wisdom. Good luck on those saves
Vs my lyrics divine that they kick in the raves
All MCs Copy meeze Cause I please The ladies
Rockin smooth grooves from beyond from the cradles to graves
You just be 4th level, I'm the Grandmaster of Rap
Four rhymes per round in your head That'll make your neck snap
Take a crap as I rap cause you really ain't that
Now listen and learn while I victory lap
8d4 every word! I'm innate Power Word Killa!
I'm Rhyme Thrilla! The skilla! Hardcore rap's new Godzilla!
Paya billa gorilla, you ain't ill but I illa
Freestylin profilin all up in this villa.
But before I collect Gonna drop one last break
Pull out my red pen and correct Brogg's mistake
That's a pretty swell rhyme that you just done and make
But two words all it take: Justin fuckin' Timberlake?
Look it's cool if you're gay son, It's okay if you're queer
I mean shit Brokeback Mountain be the film of the year
But the Cold Cut Collective ain't the place for that here
So go home to your mom and your boyfriend, okay dear?
And I wield the lyrics like a cursed 'serker sword
Don't stop til all's dead, oh my god, oh my lord
Knights of Armek all run when I step up on board
Cause John Romeo's name is a pure Holy Ward.
You're a 4th level what? Go fuckin Speak Animalese
I said speak on up son couldn't hear your last wheeze
Sound like 'John Romeo done cold better than meeze'
I'm a thief and a playa, 16th level bard in disguise
Arch-mage of illusions whose rhymes hypnotize
Rolled a 1 for your save cause I just won surprise
Got percentage to charm open locks and spread thighs
Think I'm rappin in China? Is that what you done said?
Maybe my words were too big and couldn't fit in your head
Studied cold Webster's every night before bed
Spittin top of the class while you're back in Spesh Ed
You a monk now? Nice wisdom. Good luck on those saves
Vs my lyrics divine that they kick in the raves
All MCs Copy meeze Cause I please The ladies
Rockin smooth grooves from beyond from the cradles to graves
You just be 4th level, I'm the Grandmaster of Rap
Four rhymes per round in your head That'll make your neck snap
Take a crap as I rap cause you really ain't that
Now listen and learn while I victory lap
8d4 every word! I'm innate Power Word Killa!
I'm Rhyme Thrilla! The skilla! Hardcore rap's new Godzilla!
Paya billa gorilla, you ain't ill but I illa
Freestylin profilin all up in this villa.
But before I collect Gonna drop one last break
Pull out my red pen and correct Brogg's mistake
That's a pretty swell rhyme that you just done and make
But two words all it take: Justin fuckin' Timberlake?
Look it's cool if you're gay son, It's okay if you're queer
I mean shit Brokeback Mountain be the film of the year
But the Cold Cut Collective ain't the place for that here
So go home to your mom and your boyfriend, okay dear?
And I wield the lyrics like a cursed 'serker sword
Don't stop til all's dead, oh my god, oh my lord
Knights of Armek all run when I step up on board
Cause John Romeo's name is a pure Holy Ward.
Brogg:
Brogg gets back up on stage. Takes a long look at Romeo, and cues the beat.
(Note: Brogg is dropping a new 3rd Level Spell: Summon True Playas)
Yo, His palms are sweaty, feels weak, armor’s heavy
There's vomit on his mail already, -Greetles’ spaghetti
He's nervous, but he tries to look calm and ready
To drop bombs, but he lost concentration
The spells he’s got, PFE or Precipitation?
Should be Remove Fear, or maybe Withdraw
Is he choking? -Are Brogg’s rhymes flawed?
The round's run out, make a save, buddy!
Oh, Snap! Back to reality, it’s a… Natural 20!
Damn, you thought it’d be easy?! -thought you’d get lucky?
G’s Chosen gets queasy, falls to da Colonel of Kentucky?
Hell no! That just ain’t so. Grab yo die, make yo throw!
Brogg is spittin’ and heads will roll!
I could play this fast, but I’ll take it slow.
Put on a show and let lesser G’s know
H4 fell like snow when I ran it solo!
Still, allow me some playas, if you will.
-Yo, just to give props, not to partake.
Wassup, Snoop, P. Diddy, J. Timberlake!?
(Playas: Yo Brogg, this beat's gonna break! -link)
When Andicorn fell they was all like: Broggtorious!
Cuz G-Bane grants skillz to make me victorious!
That’s right, I’m representin’ tha Almighty G!
Fuck MoP! -in time they’ll see.
Mysterious X, He’s got nothin’ on me
‘Cept his degree of GrandMaster Pussy!
But degrees ain’t shit when it’s down to the rounds
And my red-hot broadsword just won’t simmer down!
Cause then it’s Bitch-smack! from outta nowhere!
And I’m all like: “Hey pal, while you’re down there…”
“My rhymes are special!” –That’s what they told ya?!
Sorry champ, you watch too much Oprah.
Maybe “Special Cuts” is more like your speed.
They set the bar low, and you always succeed! (Timberlake: Yay!)
But this Cut is cold and you’ve been cold-clocked
Are ya really so shocked your rap has been rocked?
Just do us a favor and cut your rhymes short
Don’t understand? –Yo, look in your shorts
An’ if you throw in the towel, I won’t mention tha warts.
Oh look, he’s au fait! -He’s got no retort. (P. Diddy: Au fait, yo.)
Well, good game sport, you gave it your all.
But Brogg is all runnin’, and you can’t even crawl.
So Romeo, let me close out this rhyme
Once upon a time, you heard lyrics sublime
They blew your mind, as you were maligned (Snoop: Byatch!)
Left far behind, you just couldn’t contend.
Brogg attended Cold Cut, and it was The End.
Brogg nods to his playas as they fade out of existence.
(Note: Brogg is dropping a new 3rd Level Spell: Summon True Playas)
Yo, His palms are sweaty, feels weak, armor’s heavy
There's vomit on his mail already, -Greetles’ spaghetti
He's nervous, but he tries to look calm and ready
To drop bombs, but he lost concentration
The spells he’s got, PFE or Precipitation?
Should be Remove Fear, or maybe Withdraw
Is he choking? -Are Brogg’s rhymes flawed?
The round's run out, make a save, buddy!
Oh, Snap! Back to reality, it’s a… Natural 20!
Damn, you thought it’d be easy?! -thought you’d get lucky?
G’s Chosen gets queasy, falls to da Colonel of Kentucky?
Hell no! That just ain’t so. Grab yo die, make yo throw!
Brogg is spittin’ and heads will roll!
I could play this fast, but I’ll take it slow.
Put on a show and let lesser G’s know
H4 fell like snow when I ran it solo!
Still, allow me some playas, if you will.
-Yo, just to give props, not to partake.
Wassup, Snoop, P. Diddy, J. Timberlake!?
(Playas: Yo Brogg, this beat's gonna break! -link)
When Andicorn fell they was all like: Broggtorious!
Cuz G-Bane grants skillz to make me victorious!
That’s right, I’m representin’ tha Almighty G!
Fuck MoP! -in time they’ll see.
Mysterious X, He’s got nothin’ on me
‘Cept his degree of GrandMaster Pussy!
But degrees ain’t shit when it’s down to the rounds
And my red-hot broadsword just won’t simmer down!
Cause then it’s Bitch-smack! from outta nowhere!
And I’m all like: “Hey pal, while you’re down there…”
“My rhymes are special!” –That’s what they told ya?!
Sorry champ, you watch too much Oprah.
Maybe “Special Cuts” is more like your speed.
They set the bar low, and you always succeed! (Timberlake: Yay!)
But this Cut is cold and you’ve been cold-clocked
Are ya really so shocked your rap has been rocked?
Just do us a favor and cut your rhymes short
Don’t understand? –Yo, look in your shorts
An’ if you throw in the towel, I won’t mention tha warts.
Oh look, he’s au fait! -He’s got no retort. (P. Diddy: Au fait, yo.)
Well, good game sport, you gave it your all.
But Brogg is all runnin’, and you can’t even crawl.
So Romeo, let me close out this rhyme
Once upon a time, you heard lyrics sublime
They blew your mind, as you were maligned (Snoop: Byatch!)
Left far behind, you just couldn’t contend.
Brogg attended Cold Cut, and it was The End.
Brogg nods to his playas as they fade out of existence.
Marivhon
Whats up Romeo can't rhyme Marivhon?
I got your ass it's time to move on.
Triple C brewery looks like punks to me.
If you can't see the truth,
it's for me ta show it to thee.
Your raps are lame, you bring no game.
Time to go home cause it's all the same.
Dead air, dead thugs don't matter to me.
Just say I'm the best and I'll leave you be.
Rob you wanna battle or just let us win?
I got your ass it's time to move on.
Triple C brewery looks like punks to me.
If you can't see the truth,
it's for me ta show it to thee.
Your raps are lame, you bring no game.
Time to go home cause it's all the same.
Dead air, dead thugs don't matter to me.
Just say I'm the best and I'll leave you be.
Rob you wanna battle or just let us win?
Yvette
So... is it just me, or was Rob's rap originally written in cantonese and then translated into english via an online translator? Cause otherwise I cannot comprehend how the flow was supposed to go. That is, unless Romeo is often found in Chinese opera houses in whatever the fuck your world is called...
He'll Say Hi To Your Mom For You While He Is Making Love To Her In The Greek Fashion
So that was pretty good everyone, but the night's just about to begun. After you done finish your rhyme, John Romeo step up to the scene of the crime.
And the backup sings:
Ro-Me-O... he's a true playa, true playa
Ro-Me-O... don be a hata, be a hata...
Ro-Me-O... he's a true playa, true playa...
Ro-Me-O... and he's chillin cold, chillin cold...
A dwarf MC:
Hello everyone my name's Don Rickles M.C.
I won't take too much of your time now just give me ten-three
Thirteen seconds to two-step and get this show on the- whoa!
We interrupt this fat message for my man Romeo.
John Romeo:
Alright and good night cause it's the end of the fight
Romeo pre-sent sweet beats rock and rollin you tight
Eveyone can jus leave now, eveyone go on home
Cause the gold was just sold to the J to the Rome.
You think you bring battle? I just took two attack
You done brung a bad swung while I brung a big sack
Hack and smack You on crack I'm the mack of the track
You gone slack Cause you're wack Ain't rapped jack It's a fact
Brung some Kung, Fool I'm steppin Don't detract from my tac
And I'll say hi to your mom when I'm hittin her back.
Oh shit yo I'm metal on target, rhymes DARPA designed
I got the technology While you just got fined
Parked your skills in my space- wait what was that I just rhymed?
DARPA don't even exist in this place in this time!
Long John R is for "ride it" straight on through to the dawn
With an O for the ladies all lined up on my lawn
M-E is the winner Straight col' old school thug sinner
O again cause I'm like that Tantric rhymes from beyond.
So go back to your webpage or your gay little blog
Got no time for a Cin-duhr, a Fist-er, a Brogg
I'm a-callin this hand, oh five bitches I see!
I'll straight flush 'em down toilets to the depths of the sea
Cause John Romeo's all aces, like a golem of gold
Pure platinum hits that's the shits That's the way Was foretold
Lordly Might is my rod- see my Rod is in bold.
Sold my soul for control Met the goal Cause I'm cold.
Backup fade out:
Ro-Me-O... he's a true playa, true playa...
Ro-Me-O... cold chillin and you know, know...
Ro-Me-O... he's a true playa, true playa...
Ro-Me-O... cold chillin and you gotta know...
Ro-Me-O... he's a true playa, true playa...
Ro-Me-O... cold chillin and, cold chillin and...
And the backup sings:
Ro-Me-O... he's a true playa, true playa
Ro-Me-O... don be a hata, be a hata...
Ro-Me-O... he's a true playa, true playa...
Ro-Me-O... and he's chillin cold, chillin cold...
A dwarf MC:
Hello everyone my name's Don Rickles M.C.
I won't take too much of your time now just give me ten-three
Thirteen seconds to two-step and get this show on the- whoa!
We interrupt this fat message for my man Romeo.
John Romeo:
Alright and good night cause it's the end of the fight
Romeo pre-sent sweet beats rock and rollin you tight
Eveyone can jus leave now, eveyone go on home
Cause the gold was just sold to the J to the Rome.
You think you bring battle? I just took two attack
You done brung a bad swung while I brung a big sack
Hack and smack You on crack I'm the mack of the track
You gone slack Cause you're wack Ain't rapped jack It's a fact
Brung some Kung, Fool I'm steppin Don't detract from my tac
And I'll say hi to your mom when I'm hittin her back.
Oh shit yo I'm metal on target, rhymes DARPA designed
I got the technology While you just got fined
Parked your skills in my space- wait what was that I just rhymed?
DARPA don't even exist in this place in this time!
Long John R is for "ride it" straight on through to the dawn
With an O for the ladies all lined up on my lawn
M-E is the winner Straight col' old school thug sinner
O again cause I'm like that Tantric rhymes from beyond.
So go back to your webpage or your gay little blog
Got no time for a Cin-duhr, a Fist-er, a Brogg
I'm a-callin this hand, oh five bitches I see!
I'll straight flush 'em down toilets to the depths of the sea
Cause John Romeo's all aces, like a golem of gold
Pure platinum hits that's the shits That's the way Was foretold
Lordly Might is my rod- see my Rod is in bold.
Sold my soul for control Met the goal Cause I'm cold.
Backup fade out:
Ro-Me-O... he's a true playa, true playa...
Ro-Me-O... cold chillin and you know, know...
Ro-Me-O... he's a true playa, true playa...
Ro-Me-O... cold chillin and you gotta know...
Ro-Me-O... he's a true playa, true playa...
Ro-Me-O... cold chillin and, cold chillin and...
Marivhon
Triple C
Emergen-cy
the people in the house they don't know me.
But I was there when we kill Crys G.
Prestidigator-player hater.
Why this the way it gotta be.
You wanna rhyme you rhyme with me.
I show you the land where you wanna be.
So close yo eyes an see with me.
Drinkin crys with yo hommies.
Yo babies daddy yeah he is me.
Or maybe not don't matta to me.
I love you
and that you'll see.
I take care of you the way it'outta be.
Trip C, I don't see, spittin rhymes, cept my boys and me.
You wanna front show some NPC.
So maybe I'm a player, a presidigitator.
I ain't no hater.
see ya later.
Make love to you in this HEEAR TRIPLE C BREWERY.
Make love to you fo eternity.
Cause the Opposition aint nothin but a BIG PUSSY.
Emergen-cy
the people in the house they don't know me.
But I was there when we kill Crys G.
Prestidigator-player hater.
Why this the way it gotta be.
You wanna rhyme you rhyme with me.
I show you the land where you wanna be.
So close yo eyes an see with me.
Drinkin crys with yo hommies.
Yo babies daddy yeah he is me.
Or maybe not don't matta to me.
I love you
and that you'll see.
I take care of you the way it'outta be.
Trip C, I don't see, spittin rhymes, cept my boys and me.
You wanna front show some NPC.
So maybe I'm a player, a presidigitator.
I ain't no hater.
see ya later.
Make love to you in this HEEAR TRIPLE C BREWERY.
Make love to you fo eternity.
Cause the Opposition aint nothin but a BIG PUSSY.
1.30.2006
Dave, Fist of Odin
Welll . . . . (beatboxin')
Boy howdy! I'm Dave, Fist of Odin
And I gotta tell y'all that the party's explodin'
I'm here drinking fo'tys
And I'm smokin' the sho'ties
And you might want to put on some chains that be go'din
When I bust out the rhymz it gets the ladies goin
And they bodies be movin and the skin they be showin
We all feeling tight
And we all feeling nice
And hey brother if you aint then off I say be blowin
Boy howdy! I'm Dave, Fist of Odin
And I gotta tell y'all that the party's explodin'
I'm here drinking fo'tys
And I'm smokin' the sho'ties
And you might want to put on some chains that be go'din
When I bust out the rhymz it gets the ladies goin
And they bodies be movin and the skin they be showin
We all feeling tight
And we all feeling nice
And hey brother if you aint then off I say be blowin
1.29.2006
Marivhon
uh at least I do read this thing and post. Shit if this is over then just declare Brogg the winner and lets move on. I am not going to rap. I will beat the shit out of someone if they want to start a fight. Like if some trip c guy talks shit about Brogg. I would have to attack him like a cold gangsta, BR 9 hits ac 9. bare handed. It'd be 3 hps.
Dave, Fist of Odin
First off, I've always pictured Marivhon as looking kinda like Seal. You know? Dark, dark skin, bald, maybe a little shiny, and scars on his face. Skinny, but wiry and muscled - Bruce Lee kind of muscles, the kind that, you know, don't shout 'I'm a big guy' but just kind of mention, in passing, that maybe this is someone who you might not want to fuck with.
I'm saying that if Marivhon is not a gangster, I think he lives next door to one.
Anyway. So here's a possible scenario. Marivhon's busting out some phat moves - rolls a couple of twennies, a three, and the rest are good scores. Renwick and I work the crowd, and do the do - then pass the mic to Brogg and (hopefully?) Cinder, who also get it going on.
But the the other crews - well, some of them might have some skilz. Not mad skilz like us, more like slightly annoyed skilz, but maybe one of their brothers is on the jury. Maybe one of them's a hot chick with bootylicious shorts. Maybe one of them throws down a bunch of silver to the crowd - you know, working it in.
So maybe we're a little discouraged. Backstage, I pass the 40 to Cinder, who looks down, shaking his head. Brogg opens his mouth to speak - and then closes it, and takes a pull himself. Marivhon's stretching out - he pulled his quad doing a spin.
Then Renwick comes in, and calls us all pussies. "What the fuck - it's not like this shit's over - except, for you guys, it is. It is because you've given up. Is this the group I'm rapping with? Is this the group who killed that Vrill cockmonger? Look at Mike the Zombie - he can't really speak, but he's up there working it. Fuck. Do I need to bust the burning hands on yo' asses?"
He's looking at us all - and for a moment, Renwick thinks 'oh shit - I haven't known these guys very long - did I cross the line?' But then we all stand up, at the same moment, and I don't know about the other 4 guys in this room, but I suddenly remember that I'm Dave, Fist of Odin, and I'm not taking no motherfuckin' shit from no one.
'Back me up, guys - when I start beat boxin', get ready to rhyme it up.' Renwick, Brogg, and Cinder kind of nod - the Fist of Odin's got something cooking, they've seen this look before. Marivhon stands up, wipes his face, gets some water - he's ready. I slam back the rest of the 40, belch, and take the stage . . .
"Ahem."
The crowd goes silent - there's only one rapper here tonight in full plate mail, and though he's been kinda spotty with the rhymz, his beats have been solid; and when he wants to command the room - well, he is a man of the people, after all.
Dave, Fist of Odin clears his throat again, and starts singing:
Karma Karma Karma Karma Karma Chameleon
You come and go, you come and go oh-oh-oh
Loving would be easy if your colors were like my dreams
Red gold and green, red gold and gree ee-ee-een
The crowd is dead silent. All eyes on Dave, Fist of Odin. There's a dramatic pause, held maybe just a beat too long - the crowd's about to say something ugly, when....
Screw that shit - this ain't no cultured club
We're here to rap it up and bring the phat dub
I'm the fist of Odin and I'm makin' noiz
And I'm backed up here with a crew of my boyz
Marivhon you see, well he ain't so bright
And he's got a sucky Con but his moves be tight
That's right he breaks it down he's a funky sight
He's the freshest he's the phatest yeah he Dy-no-myt!
Now Renwick and Brogg y'all met these two
I been backing them up 'cuz yo, they my crew
They've been ryhmin and stylin 'cuz that's what they do
And you appreciate it like Kosher to the Jew
But there's someone up who's brought all his game
And I'm tellin y'all you better know he's not lame
He's the backstabber of rhymes he's got sneaky-skilled fame
We call him Cinder the Thief 'cuz yo, that's his name . . .
(With this, the crowd's moving it a little bit. They're still not quite sure, 'cuz I started with the fucking Boy George shit, but they're willing to give it a listen.)
I take a deep breath - Marivhon, maybe, does that move where he spins and ends up on his arm, under his head, with his legs folded backwards, looking casual. Brogg and Renwick are struttin around, backing me up, getting things ready for Cinder.
I start beat boxing . . .
Cinder?
I'm saying that if Marivhon is not a gangster, I think he lives next door to one.
Anyway. So here's a possible scenario. Marivhon's busting out some phat moves - rolls a couple of twennies, a three, and the rest are good scores. Renwick and I work the crowd, and do the do - then pass the mic to Brogg and (hopefully?) Cinder, who also get it going on.
But the the other crews - well, some of them might have some skilz. Not mad skilz like us, more like slightly annoyed skilz, but maybe one of their brothers is on the jury. Maybe one of them's a hot chick with bootylicious shorts. Maybe one of them throws down a bunch of silver to the crowd - you know, working it in.
So maybe we're a little discouraged. Backstage, I pass the 40 to Cinder, who looks down, shaking his head. Brogg opens his mouth to speak - and then closes it, and takes a pull himself. Marivhon's stretching out - he pulled his quad doing a spin.
Then Renwick comes in, and calls us all pussies. "What the fuck - it's not like this shit's over - except, for you guys, it is. It is because you've given up. Is this the group I'm rapping with? Is this the group who killed that Vrill cockmonger? Look at Mike the Zombie - he can't really speak, but he's up there working it. Fuck. Do I need to bust the burning hands on yo' asses?"
He's looking at us all - and for a moment, Renwick thinks 'oh shit - I haven't known these guys very long - did I cross the line?' But then we all stand up, at the same moment, and I don't know about the other 4 guys in this room, but I suddenly remember that I'm Dave, Fist of Odin, and I'm not taking no motherfuckin' shit from no one.
'Back me up, guys - when I start beat boxin', get ready to rhyme it up.' Renwick, Brogg, and Cinder kind of nod - the Fist of Odin's got something cooking, they've seen this look before. Marivhon stands up, wipes his face, gets some water - he's ready. I slam back the rest of the 40, belch, and take the stage . . .
"Ahem."
The crowd goes silent - there's only one rapper here tonight in full plate mail, and though he's been kinda spotty with the rhymz, his beats have been solid; and when he wants to command the room - well, he is a man of the people, after all.
Dave, Fist of Odin clears his throat again, and starts singing:
Karma Karma Karma Karma Karma Chameleon
You come and go, you come and go oh-oh-oh
Loving would be easy if your colors were like my dreams
Red gold and green, red gold and gree ee-ee-een
The crowd is dead silent. All eyes on Dave, Fist of Odin. There's a dramatic pause, held maybe just a beat too long - the crowd's about to say something ugly, when....
Screw that shit - this ain't no cultured club
We're here to rap it up and bring the phat dub
I'm the fist of Odin and I'm makin' noiz
And I'm backed up here with a crew of my boyz
Marivhon you see, well he ain't so bright
And he's got a sucky Con but his moves be tight
That's right he breaks it down he's a funky sight
He's the freshest he's the phatest yeah he Dy-no-myt!
Now Renwick and Brogg y'all met these two
I been backing them up 'cuz yo, they my crew
They've been ryhmin and stylin 'cuz that's what they do
And you appreciate it like Kosher to the Jew
But there's someone up who's brought all his game
And I'm tellin y'all you better know he's not lame
He's the backstabber of rhymes he's got sneaky-skilled fame
We call him Cinder the Thief 'cuz yo, that's his name . . .
(With this, the crowd's moving it a little bit. They're still not quite sure, 'cuz I started with the fucking Boy George shit, but they're willing to give it a listen.)
I take a deep breath - Marivhon, maybe, does that move where he spins and ends up on his arm, under his head, with his legs folded backwards, looking casual. Brogg and Renwick are struttin around, backing me up, getting things ready for Cinder.
I start beat boxing . . .
Cinder?
Brogg:
Aiight, prestidigitator, you warmed things up
Brogg is takin the mic, so don’t bust a nut
Was givin some props in tha in the VIP room
Sippin crys and scrawlin’ my nom de plume
Business before pleasure, hell, it’s a pleasure doing business.
And my business is a pleasure as you soon will witness.
So let everybody in this crowd get off th’ asses
Cause like gravitation I can move the masses
Yo, raise your hands up and clink your glasses
And get on my dope bus before it passes.
We’re takin’ a field trip to a new kinda school
Where party with yo neighbor is the Golden Rule.
And this bus ain’t never gonna run outta fuel
Cause I got more rhymes than a carpenter’s got tools
Yo, but these Cold Cut judges want to limit my time
And they gonna stop me although it’s a unkind
As the evidence will show these lyrics are sublime
An’ stopping my flow was the only true crime
So, I’ll come back an' cure ya like the hair of the dog
Cause when tha majority votes, they always vote Brogg!
I look at John Romeo, like: What up Byatch?!
Brogg is takin the mic, so don’t bust a nut
Was givin some props in tha in the VIP room
Sippin crys and scrawlin’ my nom de plume
Business before pleasure, hell, it’s a pleasure doing business.
And my business is a pleasure as you soon will witness.
So let everybody in this crowd get off th’ asses
Cause like gravitation I can move the masses
Yo, raise your hands up and clink your glasses
And get on my dope bus before it passes.
We’re takin’ a field trip to a new kinda school
Where party with yo neighbor is the Golden Rule.
And this bus ain’t never gonna run outta fuel
Cause I got more rhymes than a carpenter’s got tools
Yo, but these Cold Cut judges want to limit my time
And they gonna stop me although it’s a unkind
As the evidence will show these lyrics are sublime
An’ stopping my flow was the only true crime
So, I’ll come back an' cure ya like the hair of the dog
Cause when tha majority votes, they always vote Brogg!
I look at John Romeo, like: What up Byatch?!
FUCK YEAH
Throw down whatever you got. The more you got, the higher you'll advance in this battle of the ages. Don't got shit, then you won't go.
Renwick, the crowd goes nuts. How often do you see a 1st level mage work it so hard?
Gary Gygax, eat your motherfucking heart out. BITCH.
Renwick, the crowd goes nuts. How often do you see a 1st level mage work it so hard?
Gary Gygax, eat your motherfucking heart out. BITCH.
Marivhon is not a gangsta.
never read the fall. I don't rap either. Yvette and I worked on some baby rap that was pretty sweet, but I don't think it will help me here. It started with.
My huggies are tight cause I dropped a bomb.
While I was nursing I bit my mom.
I had some other stuff but I don't remember it. Are we going to do this or what? I don't rap btw so go get it guys.
My huggies are tight cause I dropped a bomb.
While I was nursing I bit my mom.
I had some other stuff but I don't remember it. Are we going to do this or what? I don't rap btw so go get it guys.
