Its me, Shallow steve on the eve of all Hallows, wanna battle? Thats a gamble, you might end up in the gallows/ im a veteran, against me you will never win, watch as i turn pig faced rappers into gelatin, keep tellin 'em/ I'll amaze ya, got chicks from north america to asia, blaze haze with neighbors, prostitutes and geishas/ Shootin glue on glutes if she's allergic to my gluten, ask my man Garbarino, son this new shit is a nuisance/ crews are used to spreadin lies, two faced geminis can't hack it, I'll burn a whole ton of ganja or gang of grene with gene jacket/ peep my glossary, I'm gorgeous with the gift I spit at rhymecamp, staying on my grind-can't, you see your flows dry while mine's damp?
1 comment:
Fun wit anagrams...have at it. I've always considered the walking talking the king of the gram.
Rhyme camp brought to u by them spaghetti westerners like Clint eastwood...old west action.
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