Your Favorite Rap Couplets of the Moment, You Contrarian-Ass Mutha!

son ya is featherweight
my gunshots'll make ya levitate

You gotta go to court ha
You got served a subpeona for child support ha
That was that nerve ha

Fuck it yo, I bucked him son cuz he was on some stupid shit
Thinking he the real thing when he was just a duplicate

whole clique iphones
nigga get ya shine on

lol

I am the wrong nigga to cross and the first nigga to jam
With the AK-quatro-siete or the microphone in hand

I got a freaky, freaky, freaky-freaky-freaky flow
Control the mic like Fidel Castro

Scared to death, runnin' like I got bears on me
My Timbs start feelin' like they Nike Airs on me

my belt's in the crib on the floor by my two-way

now im trying to hold my pants up and my hammer too!

if you sell drugs in a school zone

but right now mine is whatever couplet ends with inside fish sticks outside tartar sauce

cuz that is jeenyus

weird "run" remix from an old j-love mixtape
http://www.zshare.net/download/187313691c1dca02/

and no i don't mean this jlove, "where Jewish love begins!"

to the la quinta we went
layin them hoes down on the freestyle tip, yeah!

tints dark enough to have Osama in it!
or Obama in it! or yo mama in it!

ima tell you like george bush told me
"fuck y'all niggas im out of here"

dunno why i like the opening couplet of "swagga like us" so much but it's been getting stuck in my head like crazy

mr. west is in the building
swagger on a hundred thousand trillion

mostly delivery probably

naw... it's all about the opening of tip's verse

you can see weezy for the wordplay, jeezy for the birdplay
kanyeezy for diversity and me for controversy

yes but that line just brings to everyone's attention the thought of jeezy on the song which would have been pretty cool

tru

certainly better thn jay

Djs communicate to the masses
Sex and violent classes
Now our children grow up prisoners
All their lives radio listeners

Your mama don't wear no draaaws
I saw her when she took them off
Standin' in the welfare line, eatin' swine
Tryin' to look fiiiiiine with her stank behind

The wackest crews try to diss, it makes me laugh
When my track record's longer than a DC-20 aircraft

Niggas be runnin' through the block shootin'
Time to start the revolution, catch a body, head for Houston

Once they caught us off-guard, the Mac 10 was in the grass and
I ran like a cheetah with thoughts of assassin

fuggit, all of NYSoM belongs in this thread

Tint dark enough to have Osama in it... Or Obama in it... or yo mama in it.

Picked the Mac up, told brothers, "Back up," the Mac spit
Lead was hittin niggaz one ran, I made him backflip

haha whiney

tints dark enough to have Osama in it!
or Obama in it! or yo mama in it!

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― float like gravity (The Reverend), Monday, September 22, 2008 1:13 AM Bookmark

So when they pulled up, bumpin' "Rock the Bell"
We took what we want, left 'em quiet as hell

Every jam we play, we break two needles
There's three of us, but we're not the Beatles

When you die over crude oil as black as my nigga Boo
It's really a Desert Storm, that's word to my nigga Clue

you don't wanna battle in a jah war
shoot holes in you face like darts in a board

Rock until I'm gone
'til the party's over and he start turnin' the lights on

I know you sick-aaah than sick-aaah
When you see the rims flick-aaah

Don't get the grease on your pantyhose
I love you rover, move over, gotta blow my nose

true is who is down to kill
old school like a buick bonneville
suicide
do a lotta pills

Some might even say this song is sexistist
Cause I ask the girls to rub on they breastseses

i'm ridin in that escalade
same color as blue gatorade

^^pretty hot fake young dro lyric from soulja boy of all people

I'm fascinated by the way your nipples peak at me through your blouse
Freaky me, freaky you, can't help but be aroused

You draw, better be Picasso, you know, the best
Cause if this is not so, ehhh, god bless

yup, the dog's so god damn puuurty
stones same color michael jackson after suuuurgery

I smashed up the gray one, bought me a red
Every time we hit the parking lot we turn heads

writin rhyme in the back of a black luxury toy
gettin sucked like niggas cannot fuck with me boy

and endless more from that song including:
1977, july 5th
conceived immaculately was me, my ma's gift

What's the prognosis? Oh my lord
Another head chopped by the Wu-Tang sword

I teach the truth to the youth, I say, "Hey youth!
Here's the truth, better start wearin' bullet-proof!"