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[wipeout1024]

Bump?

[Tomasque]

((Double-Bump))

[Elephant Parade]

What's the point of bumping something 20 minutes after it gets bumped?

[Wilfred of Ivanhoe]

Maybe its because he is eager to unleash sick rhymes, you don't know.

[Wilfred of Ivanhoe]

Here it is baby, BABY! Also, Tomasque, as one who loves videogames, those bars touched my heart. Also also, SaberToothTiger, I like how what you wrote was contextually correct because it's December  . Also also also, Spinal_Taper, get the heck off these forums and start rapping for real because THAT was amazing  .

Start rapping. Right there. On the street corner.

 Mario:
 In a ol' western town, I swear every word is true.
As tumbleweed  rolled across the ground - videogames free-for-alled both the old and he new.

 Acer: Suddenly strolled in Donkey Kong,
He threw a barrel at 8-bit Pong.
But the barrel bounced back,
And slammed into Acerarak!
The angry demilich turned around,
And sucked out DK's soul without a sound.
He fell down like a giant doll,
But then was crushed by something tall.

 All: IT WAS SKELETON BOWSER, BACK FROM THE DEAD!
TURNED AROUND, RIPPED OFF ZELDA'S HEAD!
KILLED THE ANIMATOR'S ANIMATION,
BUT WAS SUCKED UP BY THE ORB OF ANNIHILATION!!!

[3] Your rhymes are slick, but the people standing around on the corner aren't feeling ya. Some people in the streets give you dirty looks as you spit them bars. A bearded guy dressed in a sweat-stained wife-beater in a second-story apartment above you opens his window and yells out at you. "HEY! My son is trying to get some sleep here because my son has a football game tomorrow and I'm gonna have to be there! It means a lot to me to be there for my son, so chill out, guys!" Despite his gruff appearance, he seemed like a solid dude and a good dad.

Consider their offer, and then challenge them to a rap-off

[5] You muse over the offer and challenge all those dudes to a rap-off.The whole groups goes "OOOOOOOHHHH" like the bully posses in the old sitcoms. One of them raises his hand and the group is silenced. He steps forward and reveals himself as Marcus Raulson, a six-foot, 13-inches tall musclebound bad-ass motherfucker who had the most toned buttcheeks you ever did see. Like, whoa. He wore a gold chain with a pendant that was a image of him wearing that same gold chain and pendant. He was also missing several fingers. As he spoke, you could hardly keep yourself from laughing as his voice was really tiny and he spoke with a lisp, like Mike Tyson. "Tho, you think you can thing and wap and all that crap and get away with that thtuff heah? You thtepped into the wong hood, lemme tell ya." He accepted your challenge and has allowed you to go first.

Rap at dem copperz and bustaz!

Now this iz a ting you shoulda remembah
coz if ya won' I'll kick ya back to Novembah
I'm da baus of dis small quiet town
and now you'll see your ass turn brown, busta!

[6] Those bars hit the surrounding area so hard that thousands of people file out of the stores and start rioting right there in downtown San Fransisco. And yeah, they're going harder than those krumpers did before. Like, 10x harder. Like, the difference between Jello and concrete. Seriously. Like, really, some kindergarteners just tipped a cop car over and lit it on fire. When the cop told them not to do that, they just straight up ate that dude alive, from the toes up. It was a very painful and very sad death. One pregnant lady dressed in a samurai outfit started slicing up gangbangers and shit. A priest, a rabbi, and a monk who all happened to be walking into a bar the moment your bars dropped just ran into the crowd and started twerking their old-ass man-booties all over the damn place. A joke would be written about it later. One dude ran into a tattoo parlor and got a tattoo of your living group members on his chest with the words "R.I.P. Jerry, also fuck Jinx" underneath. A guy who was just sitting down on a bench drinking coffee ran out into the crowd, poured gasoline all over himself, and lit himself on fire because fuck it. When rhymes THAT sick get spit, ain't no rules, bitch. They were all going BEYOND THUNDERDOME! You bars are so damn fucking shit-ass hard, it revives the unconscious Johnny and stops his bleeding. Suddenly, there is the sound of another rapper coming from the direction of that chrome cylinder and people start to calm down for some reason.

Clear throat. Garner attention.

This was it. This was the time. Review time period. Check. Review slang. Check. Review audience. Check.
"Alright alright. Now, I know y'all beefin. But listen up. I got something to tell all of you.

I come from a future where rap is dead,
but I come here to drop sick beats on ya head.

Now, you got a lotta homies being false ass saviors,
but they be blind, lookin' Charles Xaviers.
All you gotta do is look over to me,
give you the one two from the year 3003.
Prove to you how to save the hip hop game,
show to you that they beats is tame,
my rhymes so good, call it instant fame.

Instant fame, lyrics insane, cash flow gain, fireworks come out ya brain, homie.
And I got this money, enough dolla here, take yo honey, it's sort of funny.
How inferior you are, you a horse drawn buggy while I'm a sports car.

Man, you rap like a neandrethal, I rap like I'm the damn king of it all,
standin' tall, spitting acid, call it lyrical gall, makin you look so small,
white girls gatchu in they purse at the mall. You may be king of the hill,
but all kings fall.

[5] You rhymes are mad slick. So slick that a bumpin' bass beat come right the hell out of no where and only further compliments your rhymes. Despite the maddening chaos that is happening around you, people start gettin' DOWN to those deep rhymes. One gangbanger breaks down and cries uncontrollably because he was touched by the pure beauty of your bars. Everyone stopped killing each other and down-leveled to just serious maiming. A mosh pit begins to form a few feet in front of you as another group of what appear to be rappers catches your eye.

EDIT: Misplaced modifiers, that sort of thing.

[wipeout1024]

Rap like I'm on fire.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

"I like food, but I'm not that fat,
Even if you're tall, something's small,
You're like the rotten donuts,
I throw in the trash,
You're so crass,
I hate that you're passing gas.

[SaberToothTiger]

Look for the rest of my crew and apply rapz to their asses.

Moranz, you prolly don' get it,
your decisions don't mean shit,
'cause I'm da baus 'round here,
if ya don' do what I tell ya,
I'll fuck ya up like a deer,
and burn down yah house with a fiyah.

Do some offensive movement towards other playas.

Did I allow ya to die?
Nah, yar busta head rolled a die,
to guess what to do,
but you don't know shit, FOO!

Ya come from the future 'cause ya couldn't live in da good timez!
No bitch-ass busta could made it through ma fightz,
especially a dumb cat like a brick with no lore of me,
yer balls may be of copper, but mine are of steel,
an' ya'll feel metal on ya ugly face,
from my bootz, kicking ya while you race
to da exit, while I go to yah timez,
to bust some really good rhymes,.

Now, how about ya go back to your mommy,
before ya start pissing off me,
the playa of all the worlds and times,
come down to kick your skinny ass,
ya is a car with no gas,
I'm a tank going full speed at your mass,
loading some high explosive,
start aimin at you, diva,
and then I start firin,
and you start diving,
out of yah car, seein yah dough don' mean shit,
when your ass is being hit.

You may know the future, but I am the future,
your life is noting, I am everything,
you forgot that bling,
don't make ya the king.

[Spinal_Taper]

Did I allow ya to die?
Nah, yar busta head rolled a die,
to guess what to do,
but you don't know shit, FOO!

Ya come from the future 'cause ya couldn't live in da good timez!
No bitch-ass busta could made it through ma fightz,
especially a dumb cat like a brick with no lore of me,
yer balls may be of copper, but mine are of steel,
an' ya'll feel metal on ya ugly face,
from my bootz, kicking ya while you race
to da exit, while I go to yah timez,
to bust some really good rhymes,.

Now, how about ya go back to your mommy,
before ya start pissing off me,
the playa of all the worlds and times,
come down to kick your skinny ass,
ya is a car with no gas,
I'm a tank going full speed at your mass,
loading some high explosive,
start aimin at you, diva,
and then I start firin,
and you start diving,
out of yah car, seein yah dough don' mean shit,
when your ass is being hit.

You may know the future, but I am the future,
your life is noting, I am everything,
you forgot that bling,
don't make ya the king.

Fire back!

You may be right, you could be the future, that's why I'm here to change it,
Shatter the future, take the shards, rearrange it,
Pull the gat, point at you, the 12 gauge hits.
You wanna know why?
No flow in your rhymes got me feelin' rage, shit!

If your a tank, I'm a terran battlecruiser,
Bring the yamato cannon down on you,
ya gattamn loser!

I notice, you got a hole in your ear,
That's cuz my rhymes cut like blades
But pointed like a spear.

Spear is right, my words are a weapon,
They hit hard, my verbs be reppin.
Each of my rhymes is a masterpiece,
Sound so beautiful, hit hard cuz they unleashed.
Yours though, nothin but a mish mash,
Words clatter your mouth, goin crish crash,
Bull in a china shop, stupid, but tame.
But even worse, they all sound the same.

You're spouting cliches like it's TV Tropes,
clinging to your last few hopes,
Cuz you're finished, like a playing card in bike spokes

Speaking of cards, you remind me of one,
The joker, yeah, because you take it out of the deck,
No disrespect, but you're a joker, I'm an ace,
Newest hip hop legend to come out of this place.

But you try to insult me, coming from the past,
forcing out rhymes, trying to lambast,
but you mess with rap Terminator,
you gon' get wrecked fast.

And the things is, I don't need a pool of molten steel,
because my words hit like bricks,
hurt like they're real.
Your words spread lime disease, like they're ticks,
My words bring the cure,
all cred, no tricks.

So I stand before you, the new rap fuhrer,
And after I finish you, I'll be one pest fewer.

[Wilfred of Ivanhoe]

Mmmm, damn. Also, please tell me if Marcus' English needs translation.

Rap like I'm on fire.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

"I like food, but I'm not that fat,
Even if you're tall, something's small,
You're like the rotten donuts,
I throw in the trash,
You're so crass,
I hate that you're passing gas.

[2] Marcus and his crew laugh at your flimsy bars. They and everyone else on the street corner were in tears. One person laughed so hard that she died of asphyxiation. Her family would never know what the heck was so darn funny. After the laughter subsided, Marcus began to spew flames from his fiery maw:

Spoiler: WARNING: Contents may be hot. Handle with care. (click to show/hide)

"I'll take your donuth and shove them down your throat;
You don't know that you look jutht like a goat.
I got ithe in my veinth and a touch like Death
Just one of my lineth ith enough to thteal yo bweath

That lady over there died laughing, but I think she died cwying
at the thtate of the wap game and at you here twying
to match my barth, my intellect, and my thkill
I'm 'bout to murder you with thethe(these) bars, but I have no ill will
towards thee."

[5] His freestylin' got the whole crowd cheering and one guy even cried tears of joy at the fiery nature of the barely intelligible words that uttered from this young goon's mouth. Everybody got super swole on those dope lyrics. Everyone except you. After a few moments of cheering, you feel tremors in the ground. It's almost as if the whole city is shaking.

Look for the rest of my crew and apply rapz to their asses.

Moranz, you prolly don' get it,
your decisions don't mean shit,
'cause I'm da baus 'round here,
if ya don' do what I tell ya,
I'll fuck ya up like a deer,
and burn down yah house with a fiyah.

Do some offensive movement towards other playas.

Did I allow ya to die?
Nah, yar busta head rolled a die,
to guess what to do,
but you don't know shit, FOO!

Ya come from the future 'cause ya couldn't live in da good timez!
No bitch-ass busta could made it through ma fightz,
especially a dumb cat like a brick with no lore of me,
yer balls may be of copper, but mine are of steel,
an' ya'll feel metal on ya ugly face,
from my bootz, kicking ya while you race
to da exit, while I go to yah timez,
to bust some really good rhymes,.

Now, how about ya go back to your mommy,
before ya start pissing off me,
the playa of all the worlds and times,
come down to kick your skinny ass,
ya is a car with no gas,
I'm a tank going full speed at your mass,
loading some high explosive,
start aimin at you, diva,
and then I start firin,
and you start diving,
out of yah car, seein yah dough don' mean shit,
when your ass is being hit.

You may know the future, but I am the future,
your life is noting, I am everything,
you forgot that bling,
don't make ya the king.

[3] You apply raps to your crew and they all assemble at your side, but Johnny falls unconscious again due to anemia. The Rap Gods gaze down at what appears to be the battle from the Prophecy. As you approach, a large circle about 30 feet across is raised from the ground on a small plateau above the throngs of people. Weird magic raises you and your crew to the top of this plateau. You can tell that things are about to get real. [2] You face this playa from a different era and begin to spit your rhymes with your squad at your back. However, they seem to fall flat before you as the ravenous crowd around you begins to throw tomatoes and 40oz's at your crew. Fortunately, no one is hurt except for the unconscious Johnny, who was hit in the head by a 40oz. That gentleman on the other side of the circle raps som cutting rhymes that hurt you deeply. The crowd cheers and starts dancing. Suddenly, a loud, tremulous voice shouts from the heavens: "ROUND ONE TO "THE PROFIT!" The entire city of San Fransisco shakes like a magnitude 5 earthquake.

Fire back!

You may be right, you could be the future, that's why I'm here to change it,
Shatter the future, take the shards, rearrange it,
Pull the gat, point at you, the 12 gauge hits.
You wanna know why?
No flow in your rhymes got me feelin' rage, shit!

If your a tank, I'm a terran battlecruiser,
Bring the yamato cannon down on you,
ya gattamn loser!

I notice, you got a hole in your ear,
That's cuz my rhymes cut like blades
But pointed like a spear.

Spear is right, my words are a weapon,
They hit hard, my verbs be reppin.
Each of my rhymes is a masterpiece,
Sound so beautiful, hit hard cuz they unleashed.
Yours though, nothin but a mish mash,
Words clatter your mouth, goin crish crash,
Bull in a china shop, stupid, but tame.
But even worse, they all sound the same.

You're spouting cliches like it's TV Tropes,
clinging to your last few hopes,
Cuz you're finished, like a playing card in bike spokes

Speaking of cards, you remind me of one,
The joker, yeah, because you take it out of the deck,
No disrespect, but you're a joker, I'm an ace,
Newest hip hop legend to come out of this place.

But you try to insult me, coming from the past,
forcing out rhymes, trying to lambast,
but you mess with rap Terminator,
you gon' get wrecked fast.

And the things is, I don't need a pool of molten steel,
because my words hit like bricks,
hurt like they're real.
Your words spread lime disease, like they're ticks,
My words bring the cure,
all cred, no tricks.

So I stand before you, the new rap fuhrer,
And after I finish you, I'll be one pest fewer.

As that strange group of rappers you saw approaches you, a large 30ft cricle of pavement that you are standing on is raised up into the air above the crowd of would-be rioters below, just like the Prophecy foretold. One of the peculiar gentlemen steps forth and issue unto you some rather insulting bars. In response, the "audience" below throw tomatoes and malt liquor at them in what seems to be outrage. [4] After receiving those fierce insults, you counter with bars of your own. They slice and dice your opponents(' feelings) as the audience cheers and begins to boogie down. Out of no where, a voice that seemed to pass through everyone there shouted: "ROUND ONE TO "THE PROFIT!" The whole of San Fransisco shakes as the voice speaks.

[wipeout1024]

Counter that.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

"Oh, you think you're so fly,
But now, you're just gonna cry,
and because of that lisp,
I'll burn you to a crisp.

[WillowLuman]

How did I not find this before

Spoiler: IN (click to show/hide)

Real Name: Lord Zizzlefrax
Stage Name: Lord Z, LZ
Hometown: Space
Background: After picking up radio waves from an RNB station, LZ came to Earth to find the creators of this music. But that was from 22 light years away, and now that he's hear he sees how far it's degenerated and is pissed, ready to show these Earthlings how it's done oldschool.

[Tomasque]

"Okay." Find a place to stay the night.

[Tomasque]

((bump.))

[SaberToothTiger]

Have me useless mooks provide some beat for my rapz!

Oh, I see, ya called fo' ya daddy,
you prolly also ride a pink caddie,
how about we play on same terms,
then you will feel the sharpness of my thorns.

I'll give, and say yer not shit,
you may give some words, and maybe even beat,
but if ya be an upstart, ya'll be hit,
and fuck up, like a total git.

I can do all I want, don't believe?
Here, your mother has HIV,
yer pops be a dog,
and your sister cann only get laid in a fog.

Dude, this is my hood,
and I find you rude,
trying to snatch my food,
but in the end, in crap you stood.

You think I give a fuck about you, lil' boy?
You nothing, but a little weak goy,
but here, how about a candy,
now, things will be just fine and dandy.

[Spinal_Taper]

"Alright, alright now. You may have gotten me with calling me a little boy, but

Gattamn, at least I ain't a little girl,
Your rhymes ain't sick, but they make wanna hurl,
My words unfurl,

Big name like a banner,
Rhymes are medical,
Fix up the timeline like a spanner,
Your rhymes are the poor house,
Mine are rich like a manor, and I got a matching manner,
Go back to scribbling rhymes in your middle school planner,
You're the nail, I'm the hammer, my lines enamour,
But they hurt you so hard, I should be put in the slammer,
Leave you desperate, panicking in a clamor,
You can't change, but my words shapeshift like a glamour,
Bite so deep, leave you with a stammer.