Battle #2...

I’m tryin to get lean and then she brings up ice cream.  I don’t get it, are you some sort of teen?  Tryin to be mean?  It don’t bother me, I’ll just pop in a comedy with Charlie Sheen, and smile how you can’t rhyme, ya know what I mean?,  Girly as sweet as a jelly bean?  I got this gene in my spleen that makes me so smart and so keen, so smart in fact I’m on the list of the dean.  You can’t tango with me, so why don’t you just be, that small little pea, in the deep blue sea, along with Boston’s tea, and some Nemo pee.  Yeah that’s right, I think about you at night, and burn out the light, to make these lyrics so tight.  I thew out the bait and you took the bite, just as I thought you might.  I shocked you like Benjamin’s kite, on this blogging site, to lift your spirits to a new height, and in spite, I gained the right, for your smile, if that’s alright.  Ooh yeah, I am so great, this rap is first rate, but don’t count it fate.  I ain’t your mate, nor am I your date, but please don’t hate, as I walk past your gate, and assemble these words which do equate, to me staying up late.  No not really, I’m just cheesy, but not as much as the snack that’s crispy, and it’s puffy, and leaves your fingers orange and yucky.  And how can a cat, represent that, which is so whack, and easy to attack, whoever eats them must be a quack – she represents that.  See this is my knack, my ability to mac, which I don’t lack, to swarm you like a wolf pack.  No, I’m not like other guys, to take you in my shack, because of your rack, and scratch your back, or something like that; no, that is quite whack.  What I do, is something true, something special, something new.  I’ll take you through first John chapter two.  Sure it reads of something shining, a light so bright that is practically blinding, and ties together darkness with stumbling.  But in verse fifteen, is rightly supreme, as sweet as ice cream, saying not to love the world or anything, and continues to verse sixteen.  The first is lust, for a woman’s bust, which is not a must, but chokes us like dust, and eats us like rust.  The second is pride, of which Lucipher died, and got denied, of the heavenly ride, and now is fried, and is trying to hide.  I am so humble (I just lied, but hey I tried).  So in the end, without a pen, I give this rap a perfect ten, because I can, and it ain’t no sin, so let me begin, and throw this in the bin:  it’s been great battlin’ with my kin, lil sweet Jaime Lynn.  

Peace

Mark