hiphop-elements.com

bp's verse was alot weaker than i know he can compose, i was dissapointed in it.
as for the other 2 i really never paid jeb too much attention on here back in the day when i posted alot, but neither of their verses were overly impressive.
honestly, i'd have to call it a tie between the 3, broken needs to unload like i've seen him do on the next round, if there is one.

vote= tie

Mmm ill battle..

1. Funky- This was a great verse but i thought the flow cud have come better
2. BP - Hot verse, would of voted u first but u kind of eliminated urself by not writing more against funky
3. Tight verse but not hard hitting enuff.

Peace.

How many votes is this going to? Let everyone know whats going on, Ref Eddie

5.. im just fucking lazy..

As the votes go, Funky and BP advance to the second round.. I will be waiting for your verses. Lets try to have them in by Sunday.


The Ref...

Damn, you are lazy, can we have some official vote count tallying and shit? Damn, can't send a boy to do a man's job

fine...

after official scoring.. Funky and Jeb go on to the next round.. BP got his ass kicked.

Jeb take it easy with them pubic dreads..

My shit will be up by Monday

Truth be known, I think instead of eliminating everyone would be appreciative of a 2nd round with all 3 mods again



Voters, participants, ref, what do you all think of that?

hmm that might be fun.. i mean this was just called a battle not a tournament so maybe there is no elimination

I'm all for that its nice to see these rhyme styles clash.. no one is a loser in this battle in my eyes. I'm enjoying this thoroughly.

I'm cool with that

ok you guys.. this is how its gonna go down. For round two and so on..

before I lay it out for yall though, All verses have to be in to me by Tuesday. No Exceptions.

All combatants continue to participate, until a winner is declared by taking 2 rounds out of 3 or how many it takes depending on possible scenarios that can occur. For instance, if Funkytoez wins this next round he is the winner of the Mod battle. If Jebediah wins this round, he has a chance to take the battle in the third, same applies for Broken Pattern. If Jeb gets this round, and Broken Pattern gets the third or vice versa it goes to a fourth etc.

Any Questions?

Oh yeah, I want to see some fireworks in this shit.

..The Ref..

Sounds gravy to me, let's keep a tight schedule everyone, I don't have the endurance for a month of waiting for a verse

I hope ya'll two brought some heat... otherwise it's over.

Get em in gents..

people better not stall this time ...*waiting*

I dunno man I felt jeb...funky was nasty but I dunno I felt that jebodia jump off

btw.. i totally love these types of battles.. we should do more.. like a big ass tourney..

Funkytoez



my mind spray is a spectacular line display that'll outshine any rhymes made
serving perfection on a fine dining tray designed for lames defined as prey
your rhymes are doomed, seeing me is like seeing stalagmites in June
neither of you typing fools could 'bring the noise' if invited to a party and asked to 'supply the tunes'
Broken can sample the wrath, melted candle is a torture method I'll use when I'm waxing your ass'
and Jeb can get' cracked in half' like your candy ass the second you 'flash your snatch at a fag'
I'm changing your name to the 'butcher' caus of the way you take 'meat slabs in the back'
but let's 'switch back to the man that's obsessed with 'TRANSFORMERS', in real life Broken's RuPauls stylist, Damn chief, that's a drag
what you two bitches want? I'll crush you both easily like Dixie cups
Broken you been here so long you like sixty huh? and Jeb the fairy fruit cup I dare you to sprinkle me with your pixie dust
I'll pummel you swiftly, feeding you food for thought from a knuckle cuisine
I could land a hundred and fifty blows to your chin before one of your punches nicks me
this hungry MC throws in circumference degrees attacking from all angles
let's see if ya'z can 'stand up to me' after I shank your ankles and ya'll observe how the language mangles
painful slang converts to split brokens throat first when a flow's birthed
my verses'll 'REverse your lives rewinding your growth spurts and timing both embryos when spurned
because Jebs'always been a 'small fish in a big pond' since his days swimming in his Old Earth
and Broken you don't comprehend your own verses you deserve to be a cum stain on your dads Polo shirt////

Funky


Jebediahbodeesnatcha

on Tuesday, met with Lex Luthor and Kaiser Soze to plan your doomsday
got Nostradamus to soothsay, he predicted Pattern blasted and Truth slayed
plottin' and scriptin, you two got postage due yet still seeking deliverance,
get admonished then stomped by the abominous monster that conquered the torchbearing villagers
the worst case came in first place out of the earth's dirtiest and baddest men,
I'm the shit, dropped a load in a holy water commode wiped my ass with the pope's robe while visiting the vatican
I'm velociraptor jurassic your both <overdramatic>, <inflight cinema>,
I'll blaze you wit my minimum you trade bleeds each other's main squeeze, exchanging enemas
tales from a true life you two bite I imbue strife peel skin with a steel blue knife,
time for some action backcrackin these less than masculine, <sacharrine> flavored dudes <lite>
BP can't stand the heat... I closed the kitchen, plucked his bird roasted the pigeon
while Truth be told, he does most of the bitchin', stalling the scrimmage, all his is GHOSTWRITTEN ,
broke Broken's soul and crushed Toez spirit , should have been told to steer clear of this
I call it what it is, queerness, buffing poles with buttholes you both at the front of the line volunteering
can't stop the rain chops lop ya brains afterwards exhibit in museums for kids scopin,
they twig pokin Toez and Broken's cerebellum cuz I split their wigs open
throw up your ironclad defense it'll suffer rust from godly flows body blows and vicious uppercuts
I'll crash past the earth's richness to melt you in <magma> for claimin your <uppercrust>
audioencrypted but I crossfaded ya before the translation of ya data against me your slated?

God must hate ya

him and Satan placed demons and angels in front of the stage to pelt y'all with rotten tomatoes
Toez can't think out the <box>, so Eddie will only call a <draw> if your <etch-a-sketchin'>
while BP couldn't buy a clue so he gets advice on chitchat forum for sexual questions
smack ya both past the floor, gash and gore ya spastic whores
your transparent, stretchin' the Truth til its Broken but couldn't drop hot or rock cyphering with the Fantastic Four



Broken Pattern

Fuck the intellectual approach
choke opinions in my dominion splitting the throats of these two hopeless battlin' jokes
They styles is none different from what I confronted in the past
Blast jeb with plaster that'll leave him tiled in pieces positioned to furniture clash
Skin him alive and drape his pigment all over fuckytoez's curvetured ass
Ain't no mis reference going on, it's evident that Toez is straight bitch
Exhibit his (A) in parentheses and kids...please ask for parental guidence
After skull fucking him violently in the first now he wanna play timid and be silent
You lack styles, kid
and you weaker than brittle poles that's frail
Sounding redundant with monotonous spits in circles with your other dawgs rhymin' 'bout your tail
You not stressing to impress puncture wounds and bruise clots to even stretch me like the elasticity around the cock that you been sexxin' on
Shit...You thinking that you seen my full potential is like peeking at my package instead of wondering what you've been griping and caressing on
Out of my trousers and starter kit,
i'll break dance floors on your entire body and bounce quick
You limp wristed wonder slut lasso monkey, proclaiming justified verbal
Wedgie your spandex to your esophogus and snap back at your neck track to detract your thoughts till your eyes blurr purple
You not even in my league, son, I bed little knackas like you
Speaking lazy concepts that bore the fuck outta me with your CAn-I-Bus like true-haikus
Non-impervious, quite pregnable...i'll penetrate you so bad you swear you should've dialed nine-one-one
With an insipid look on your grill like "where the fuck did he come?"
From when I am done with you, now, so on to mister Shaka
His screws is lose but he still rhymes stentch fumes in caka
Rap fierce lines that he could only dream to compose with Ludwig and Quartets
the only deep shit he kicked fucked up his sneakers from walking in zoo-animal soft-tents
You not even worth a personal thread to have me featured bashing your skull on the rock drawn in your avatar
Spook fear into your finger tips, so everytime you type a verse against me you forfiet from fright of the menace of a swift massacar
Tell me that I'm not spontaneaous,
come-bust all over your rhyme skiffs
Rustified talents frictionate your slicks
to crash into walls that Einhardt died in
Signed with G-force light pens
You writing lyrics to 'em make sound perfect, that shit is boring
And you wonder why people that usually type responses at your work place z's in between sentences whle critiqing your "verbal mastery of oratory"
Please, in disguise, you just hype like a transvestite entrapping victims in your crying game
...Fuck, I'm done burning lacerates in your punk ass with these puches laced with razor staunches and mythic flame...


<judge>