car insurance prices rise
Monday, June 2nd, 2008
I have a chance, a member of the Wu-Tang Clan?
In the last room in difficulty as Slicin Samurai / I keep taking my sword / Wu Tang style got these demons hypnotize / You can not myself see how the night / kg, one after another, they all come to me / Cut each body, they are all elegantly / Now I suggest everyone there others? / A strike with a pinch of victory I've ever felt / minute later, I feel sharp pain in my stomach / The Sword Theorem poison / So what im gonna do? / Make my face is turnin blue / All my life Ive been tryin cream / But have never been easy, if that's what it seems / to have been around the world to Iran, Japan / sea or land, with the clan / Soon I'll be up as gas prices are / Risin every day if you put the price of gas in the car yo / Now In discharged as hot tar / You improved strength and endurance / cause if I'll be better insurance /
hahaha .. wack. It's a bad rap kids in hell obtaining building Sword Born cigerrette pilgrims love my life as a blank MCS used to do their best, but can not face a luminous flux asimo REP Idiots wet floor of my blood flowing ends of the shear rivets risk rhymes dirty as a pigsty in the darkness of the earth and the black sky raining words of loss and broken asimo fixing this demon hopeless and violently shaking the ropes of the circus tent, when I killed someone I like young people to kill all those sinking in quicksand verbally murder scenes in my view asimo include strikes in word evolved by chance not resist a rap battle no wild head of the pack to play independently on two legs as indigenous people before the first fleet ASIMO run Sword pain in the pain silently like a poor child in hell torturing mcs dirty Can not Catch my words in their Orbit around my style of cutting your brain received hannibal Cut my wrists when I hit you with a cannonball mcs swarming like flies on a stand their sweets try hard and spit lines in the mirror all day in just a solitary walk through wetlands, on the lives lost my clothes seconds They faceless horror when Taliban chief raps mcs no life as I paint landscapes of Afghanistan, I give rhymestyle complex life to a blind child can not understand mcs, the depth of my rhymestyle
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