hahahhaa. msn-battle. finns det något bättre?

jag
the nonsensical wizdom of media conglomerates
spraying subliminal messaging, idealistic bombthreats.
nothing is more thruthful than the lie of a saint.
the hypocrite becomes the the idol that makes people faint!

zashay
your mother is an ape.
don't try to escape

jag
no more monkeybusiness.
i scream and climb trees.
higher than heaven i come.
better than all... not even worse than some.

sen dog hans msn
när han kom tillbaks:

jag
bent over backwards, trying to find words.
it always stops around two thirds.
hoping for something.
becoming more like nothing.
resting my hands on my bloodspattered knee.
the victims of my rhymes, breaking free.
mr. goodshine tells me to punch them back in.
i do, but he tells me i lack gin.
i cannot drink my trouble away.
it's there, deeper down than i can reach, in my way.

zashay
the time has come to look death in the eyes
we should stand up and take it like men
but you run your way back home to mom and cries
i wonder if you´ll grow up.. wheeen!?

jag
I don't cry. my father taught me not to.
i stand in the darkness, i might swot you.
the barrel of a sniper rifle pressed against your head.
the clock ticking, three, two, one. full of lead.

det var nu det spårade ur lite. hahaha

zashay
your mama wants me to fuck her red
but i rather se my self dead than living with that emotional shit in my head.

jag
your mother didn't want me to fuck her, and yet i did.
i killed your father first. and then your brother, the kid.

zashay
yeah, i always knew you had a thing about my brother
but really i dont care, no bother.
Ofcourse you wanted my father dead
he was the one lying with your mother in my bed.

jag
the underlying feeling of that is incest.
your family reunion, a fuck fest.
your grandmother in the bottom.
you come first even though you don't have bråttom.

sen skrattade vi i en halvtimme och hade vilt gaysex i duschen.

haha. alla såna här battles trappas alltid upp. seriösare och seriösare. it's the bomb!