Watcha think?

Droppin down raps that monstrous
flows so out of this world there preposterous
Gat piece to your dome piece
droppin playa haters
im beatin down crowds call me the regulator
know not to hesistate
burn with a steady pace
keep the gat cocked in the back
let it resonate
numba one mic holda
your dreams i unfold uh
step into this ring
and your fate will be told uh
lay him on his back
jab him if he act
rob his gunny sack
and bust the fuck out fast
im kicking ass
taking names
clockin cash
rippin shit up
you know how i do
cookin up plate after plate
of this rhyme shit
you can clock about 500 off this dime after dime shit

You have some skill, you have some great ability--
Sorry, I was talking to this other rapper with real facility
With the language he uses, with a mind for metaphors
And more of a hard-on for lyrics than for a gun or a whore
You're still not half bad, though; just a quarter
Just another thug, another .44-sporter who
Wants to get in on this hip-hop money
Hah! Man, you're killing me, stop! You're too funny!

If the gun's cocked in the back, and it resonates, then won't it
Take your butt-cheek with you, you gotta sit and wait and
Think out what you're saying, maybe that's not even what you meant, but
Your words are ambiguous, you spent too much effort
Flexing your bicep, peeling whips with thine set
Instead, maybe read some Chaucer, go on and try it
Go on a all hardcore classic diet, then
Maybe then you'll be ready to fly

If that was too abstruse, then let me explain succcinctly:
Your lyrics are so non-descript, they stand most distinctly
That's quite a feat, man, really, no joke, so
Sit back relax, and keep taking toke after toke, you tweaker

...

Um, either your subject matter or the way you approch it (metaphor, word association, etc.) has gotta be altered. Unless your delivery is like that of Weezy, times five-hundred.

lol? Preposterous, guy wasn't lying in that bar. Haha



LOL, whats wit the uh's? You lookin at porn tryina "Pump it up"? Soundin like Joe Budden on that track!

I aim this at myself/
for delf/
a milli from the belt/
makin' hip hop witches melt/

rich in the mouth, tastation/
got ya frozen like a cryogenic patient/
now have patients/
journey through imaginations/
passin' out Playstations/
to the children of fallen nations/
on tracks i leave cuts and abbrasions/
the grapes of wrath birthed California raisins/

from gold to bronze/
burned crosses on lawns/
every city got their red dawns/
a bunch of hustlas turned ex-cons/

jail bonds are the cost/
of being mini-boss/
fiends gathering moss/
when their rock comes across/
in this mind prison, all bars are lost/

precious love/
trapped in the center of a club/
pressure from soap suds/
and a warm body above/
condom like glove/
keepin' the unborn in its hub/
missed the beat break by a rub/
no money, we shrug/
and picture a lion's head at the end of our rug/

basslines and dollar signs/
be cloudin' minds/
so i follow mines/
kick back and recall the times/
blow horns 'til the last bell chimes/
judgment day bring an end to our grinds/

how can i repent?/
wit' pockets full of lint?/
against walls, i stay bent/
wonderin' where the better days went/

broke cyphers like Pac-man/
smacked rappers wit' back hand/
came back from Hell's shores and brought black sand/

for a newbie, you're alright, just need to polish up your flow