Donnell Michael Dumas @ Jamar Nolan: I don't let a lot get me. Win wars in victory. See my name in text so what I'm making is history. Future, past, present. I barbecue with the hickory. You are not alone, my number two don't mean s**t to me. On Thanksgiving you spank women you ain't illin'. I spit for all colors, my brother, I paint the ceilings. Are you a McMittens, JayB, or a black Elvis? I walk the line like Johnny Cash with a cracked pelvis. I spit it raw from the jaw for this troubled midgets who can't even score in the game I'm leading with double digits. Rumble in the jungle the lion challenge the elephant. Anything you say is thrown away and irrelevant.
Don't know... I was bored. :D
about 10 months ago · Comment · Like
Michael Antonio Doe and Demitria Meche Sanders like this.
Jamar Nolan *You're swinging bare fisted, I'm 'quipped with brass knuckles. Cats buckle like a belt when I'm flexing these massed muscles. Discussion is over, fcuk with the cobra get busted and tortured. Tussles are handled with arms like Russian soldiers. Militant minded. Scripting the finest through this book of faces. Inadequate flows on my page show you're shook of the greatest. You're whole look is outrageous. Claiming to paint the ceilings...I'll paint your face in memory on the vocation building. Homie you ain't the illest. Battling's overused, shoulder holsters hold my flows that blow you like a broken fuse. Coaching you, I showed you moves to make the people notice you. Don't forget the scrolls I wrote that dismantled your bolts and screws. I hold the jewels that shine within the darkness. I hope you understand what you've just started, you are now a moving target. Forget the gunplay I'll plant explosives in your car and when it chars, your skin departs leave nothing but your glove compartment.*
lol So random, guy!
November 27, 2009 at 4:41pm · Like
Donnell Michael Dumas Haha! I know!
Round two. Sound the gong. Battle up, who coming on? You, sir, are frowned upon with dead rappers 'round the throne. Gay krumpers, leg-humpers, haters wearing red jumpers. Better pave the way for the emcee and the headhunter. I collect bounty and I ain't talking 'bout quilts. Forget the franchise I tear down whatever you built. You feel guilt when you write a line. Get spilt reciting rhymes. I post a notice of your filth before igniting mines. You ain't no Mighty God. You're not even Heidi Klum. When they see you in the cypher everybody's like "Why'd he come?" Massed muscles? You stupid, I'm betting you're karate dumb! You can't fool me, J. Nolan, where's the Pilates from? Pop off with stuff that's thicker than John Gotti's thumb. I make you shotty numb splitting you with verbal bars and become a forensic mortician in order to further cut you up at the morgue. You're like Slick Rick, I'm more like Chico DeBarge, my lyrical genius stay together like Homer and Marge. I don't worry for battles. Bring Coronas to war. Make you feel like a shadow, your little cahounas and all. You're not even a challenge. I bust off with the talent. I bring it back to the past like homey rhyming with 'wanwich'. I cause severe damage. Stop dead this lyrical famine, because I'm so cynically canon you won't be spiritually standing.
Wake up, Mr. West!
November 27, 2009 at 5:44pm · Like
Jamar Nolan *Children never seem to learn when you let em down the easy way. Heat'll spray your cool breeze away and make your teeth decay. Please be straight and narrow when engaged with the pharaoh, 'fore I take the 8inch arrow, make it lay within your marrow, sir. Your bones break when you apply resistance. So I'm persistent with this wicked lyricism you cannot contend with. You kick lies, I split guys, you'll get the 5 finger greeting in a meeting be strategic with that street sh*t. Deep dish your bodily frame. I'll let my peeps hit you Manhunter style, they'll be frying your brains. I'm out of your lane, so stop swerving. You're prolly sitting in a sauna with your rhymebook just to come up with hot verses. You got me twisted like handwriting in cursive. You're worthless. Your prophecies are new as Don McClurkin's. So keep lurking. I'll leg sweep you while your heat's bursting. Chico DeBarge? Dog, you look like a sea urchin. I see you're urgent, but I cease working. Meaning your force and effort don't amount to power electric currents. So catch a current event before you catch a flurry. I know your style and you're afraid to get your Sketchers dirty. Doing the internet flow. I'll disconnect your intellect, dismember your neck, and eject you from your internet shows. You're not a poet, hold your breath instead of flowin', 'cause your text is getting boring like a message from your frivolous hoes. My wordplay is too advanced for your novice work. Diction inflicting imagery pigments, make your optics hurt. Your topics are garbage, your life is like a cycled curse. Choke you with the yoke and make your focus look like Papa Smurf.*
November 27, 2009 at 6:20pm · Like
Donnell Michael Dumas You can't murder me. I burn your flows to the third degree. Doctor Emergency. Rush you off in an urgency. Flow verbally and for all those who have heard of me say that my flow hot like fever- a hundred and thirty-three. J.Nolan is Ali G. Flow f**k with your allergies. No nuts and he's actually a transsexual vegetable in less capacity. Who says I can't contest with you? Manifest won't confessed to you? I'm the best rapper so who is bruising your 'Fresh Produce'? I bust through in the decibel and keep it classic. I put you in one tough pickle like it's Vlasic. I stay cold in the summer like my blood's mixed with Alaskan. I feel fan-f**king-tastic, thanks for askin'. Bust through your protection... Call it sexual harassment. Killers up in the mask and strap with a rap and notepad armed with a couple of pens and a single bottle of aspirin. Spit on you, too rude. S**t on you, too crude. Have dogs piss on you and upload the video clip to your YouTube. Who are you, dude? J.Nolan or 2Cool? You are not the emperor, you're not getting a new groove. Ain't got no beef like a BLT. New scenario like you bought my DLC. I kill the artist before they press their new LP. You're entire life turned fiction like a L-I-E. You can't get me or split me. You're worst than a rhymer. On a scale from one to ten I'm first to Obama. On a scale from one to Chris Brown, I'm mad with Rihanna. Should I save the drama or should I burst into flames? Should I write you a letter and blow my brain Kurt Donald Cobain. Am I sane or insane? Crazy or crazy deranged? Lazy or lazy detained? Life had me lemons and sugar and bet I'm making lemon meringue.
November 27, 2009 at 7:24pm · Like
Jamar Nolan *Lemon meringue is the worst of the pies. Your urgency rised? Disperse you with the burner, now its personalized. You crazy. Stepping to me like James Brown on the good foot. You're blasphemist like praising King James like its the good book. Get punchdrunk like frat parties. You and your team are wack, hardly in my radius I'll flip you more than Matt Hardy. Rap is a hobby for you. This is a lifestyle so pipe down or I'ma have to let the mac spark at your crew. Talking bout transexual harassment and such. You must be a faggot while you're gassing it up. I laugh at you ducks. The crossbreed run at warpspeed and knock you off steeze, forties will blast at you mutts. So yeah I'm 2Cool, I'm polar when the heat is leaked. You can bring your team and see who folds like some bleacher seats. Easily, I rip you leisurely, 'cause you're a weak emcee. Smack you with the fist and have you drippin' like Eazy-E. You play the role of a don. I play the role of Saddam, bombing your village while you open your arms. You pose as a star. I'll finish you before you can start. Your flow is below of the par, I'm overflowing the pond. I close your book like its the Holy Quran. Listen to oldies while your homies try at throwing me off. The more that you talk, the less you obtain so you should listen often. You drag your feet with rap like kids to the principal's office. This is strictly distortion, I'll disorient your parliament and toss you in the soil like armymen. Targeting your squadron. You asked for the reaction from your statutory actions, your mass will be flattened. Like a closed laptop. I stomp your atoms like a blacktop. Your rap drops are not even worthy to be my backdrop.*
November 27, 2009 at 8:31pm · Like
Donnell Michael Dumas You were hot when you started now you're sounding retarded. Pass around the Bacardi while I'm downing a forty. Phantom at the party you arrive in Audi with all your female cousins like "Let me holla at shorty". You are not ready, I chop with the machete. Call me Jason or Freddie when you get shredded confetti. Knocking boots at the jetty got the car shaking heavy. You in the back seat, stained drawers, Ugly Betty. Jamar, Mr. Nolan need to practice more. I shoot through to your colon when I put it at your core. You ain't banging, you can't even rap no more. I stay hot like yo' boy from Fantastic Four. Make you vanish like you went through that magic door and I'll never show no love for a faggot whore. You're plastic poor. You making so much static roar that if you performed you'd make addicts not want crack no more. Blast the floors, I'm sending hitmen just to greet you and send out the beast with a hunger to eat you. So I don't need to cheat just in order to beat you. You came out the water to get slaughtered like seafood. Lobster. Head hot, spot the imposter. Make a kid turn wicked and make the wicked turn mobster. Check the rocker. I'm bitter and I burn like Vodka. Kids in the streets chant my name, king like Shaka. I'm war-pledged, keep the city scene on ledge. I designed everything in between hard-edged. Never clean when I'm pulled by feds. Want to check my cred? You'll see things that will take y'all heads.
November 27, 2009 at 11:19pm · Like
6 hours ago
