Back up bitches, Indy Jones up in this bitch
Teachin you nolifin' kids all about respect
My life and carreer, it's fuckin perfect
while you sittin here wankin off to ragdolls
in your favorite goldfishie's fish bowl
gonna whip your ass and teach you discipline
after that you're probably gonna need some vasaline
after this beatin up you wish your head was as strong as the crystal skull
now back up bitches, this thread is getting dull
and move your ass aside, so I can pick up my fedora
you wouldn't look good in it anyway, you look dustier than my dad's amphora

This thread is worst then the ones with my rhymes in it.

Banned is so angry,
angrier than Mola Ram when I stole his precious stones
banned can't even handle my handsome cheekbones
he's probably full of gallstones
But buddy no hard feelings though, I'll have to agree with you
However, I find this so amusing I say please, continue!

Now everybody from the 313
Put your muthafuckin' hands up and follow me
Everybody from the 313, put your muthafuckin' hands up
Look Look

Now while he stands tough
Notice that this man did not have his hands up
This Free World got you gassed up
Now who's afraid of the Big Bad Wolf
1, 2, 3 and to the 4
1 Pac, 2 Pac, 3 Pac, 4
4 Pac, 3 Pac, 2 Pac, 1
You're Pac, he's Pac, no Pac, none
This guy ain't no muthafuckin MC
I know everything he's bout to say against me
I am white, I am a fuckin' bum
I do live in a trailer with my mom
My boy Future is an Uncle Tom
I do got a dumb friend named Cheddar Bob
Who shoots himself in the leg with his own gun
I did get jumped by all six of you chumps
And Wink did fuck my girl
I'm still standin' here screamin', "fuck the Free World"
Don't ever try to judge me dude
You don't know what the fuck I've been through
But I know something about you
You went to Cranbrook, that's a private school
What's the matter Doc, you embarrassed?
This guy's a gangsta? His real name's Clarence
And Clarence lives at home with both parents
And Clarence parents have a real good marriage
This guy doesn't wanna battle he shook
Cause ain't no such thing as half-way crooks
He's scared to death, he's scared to look in his fuckin' yearbook
Fuck Cranbrook

Fuck the beat, I go acapella
Fuck a Papa Doc, fuck a clock, fuck a trailer, fuck everybody
Fuck y'all if you doubt me
I'm a piece of fuckin' white trash, I'll say it proudly
And fuck this battle, I don't wanna win, I'm outtie
Here, tell these people something they dont know about me

I was in dark lurking from shadows
Only one who saw the things
What is not even a REAL
I kept running escaped can't
I fight against them they didn't die
I took a object from the ground
I hit they but nothing happens
I was thinking now i'm gonna die
but then the angles safe me
From the demons
I always wish those things not gonna happen again
But then i woke up i saw them again
I felt the power inside of me
I used the power against them
All of them FUCKED DIED.

I'll spit a racial slur, honky sue me
The shit is a horror flick
But a black guy doesn't die in this movie
You messin' with Albus, dawg you gotta be kiddin'
That makes me believe you really don't have an interest in livin'
You think these niggas gon' feel the shit you say?
I got a better chance joinin' the KKK
On some real shit though, I like you
That's why I didn't wanna have to be the one you commit suicide to
Fuck "Albus", call me "Your Leader"
I feel bad that I gotta murder that dude from Leave It To Beaver
I used to like that show
Now, you got me in fight back mode
But, oh well, if you gotta go, then you gotta go
I hate to do this, I would love for this shit to last
So I'll take pictures of my rear end so you won't forget my ass
And all's well, that ends OK
So I'll end this shit with a fuck you and have a nice day

Watch me take the piss
Out of this phony slangin' Albus
That copy and paste or that
Waste of time typing
You had is bullshit
Just another MC on the weekends
Your rhymes are weak
Like you built your house
Straight out of wheat
Shooting punchlines while
In the frontline fray acting
Like you might as well be
Walking punching bag and
So, tell us Albus plus
What is it like to ride
The short bus just to
Get schooled like another
Low time fool floating faced
Down in a greasy motel pool, son
Like the blazing terror
A TNT induced hell fire
Of full automatic ballistics
Peircing heavy armor
You're not a rhyme farmer
This shit isn't cold so I know
That I'm getting warmer
Knocked the fuck out cold
My tongue just so happened to be sharper

Never been a phony, ‘xpress styles like a pony
Had Siku editoring you, but now I’m here you’re lonely
Cut up like pepperoni, I’ll leave you in suspense
You’re easily butthurt, but I guess it makes sense
I bet Fish makes your butt hurt
But your relevance fell and your suicide failed
Your story’s more miserable than those children you nailed
Oh, too far for you? Still it is true, you have no clue
How to screw, females your own age
You’re a kid full of grown rage
Bitch, I’m on my own page
Get your shit together, I challenge you
To make something better, but that would be foolish
‘Cause I’m on my school ‘ish
And you’re like a dropout, ‘bout to get knocked out
You’re simply too late, fool you can-not shout

You and I both know those
Kids had it coming
Tripping wires in the line of fire
It was only in a matter of
Time before they got nailed
By the lyrical sniper bringing
The fire as I watch other
MC's crack up the scene
Wearing diapers
Stepping on mines as
Their minds got shattered
Like like glass made of sugar
I'm like tactician dwelling on
The present and the future
Learning from the past
And the chain of events will*
Happen as I planned as*
These rhymes will drop on time
With paradigms so sublime
You can spit your wack shit
Trying to be hard though I have
A problem with these hardcore
Slanging wannabes playing MC
I don't think we've met so you
Don't know jack shit about me
Trying to go on the personal
So you've raised the alarm
Bringing the armed guard personnel
Blasting you into a heap
You're technique is stale against
My mad ripe wild heavy type
Style fist this battle isn't just about
Who got ripped you lack the
Major components in the trifecta
Of rap spitting weak rhymes
Strutting like your stacked
With a flow half assed and
Concepts that make little
Preschoolers seem like
They're going for their doctorates
Talk about the Albus accomplishment

albus, you must be joking,
whenever he goes over his mans house hes choking,
he swallows and never spits,
then he thinks he was a bigger dick than jwowws tits,
this kid is funny,
im the one whos getting all the money,
Toribush is right,
you cant put up a fight,
your man texted me last night saying that you were tight,
no im not black im white,
oh,
im the one with the hoe,
im the one that can put up a show,
Doe!