"A Rabbit Catcher (Vs GODP)" genre: Rap
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	Lyrikal Miracle Semi Finals against G.O.D.P. My soundclick wouldn't take it properly
	Label: Oblivion Records Credits: Lyrics: T. Mercer Produced: Eminem/Royce! Mixed: Oblivion
	Story Behind the Song www.lyrikalmiracle.com Semi Finals Vs Game Of Da Prodigy.... Lyrics Yo, Jimmy, whats tha matter dawg? This battle-tough?// Maybe you can't handle tha fact ya whack-as-fuck// Fuck-a G.O.D.P.// God-no, i'll admit hes got "flow"/ 'Cos it "rains" every time that "God-pees"//O/ So basically this fake-will-bleed// Lyrically raped-my-seed sprayed and placed-in-P// I'll spit and melt-ya// I'm "holding-tha-cards"// Like "homeless" men "moving" they "boxes under-shelter"//O/ When it rains. Tha pain will feel tha same// As a thousand needles, stained and stabbed in brains// Don't get tha picture? Let me paint-it-out.// Be sure when you hear "clapping" it ain't tha "crowd"//O/ I'm gonna "son" this fat-bastard, this whack-rapper// Crack-stabber and not show at his "graduation"// Slap-and-smack-his-face-in, leave him "despondant"// 'Cos you "on tha rag" like "words" in "correspondants"//O/ (a newspaper) I murder these herbs, serve and murder with words// Hurt jerks, i'm muderous, plant 'em in dirt// Take-ya-fam-and-just-run// Tha only time you have "met-a-fours" [metaphors] is somehow "shaking 'hands'" with a "gun"//O/ Come on, Jimmy, spit-a-few-bars// That aren't "played" more than "Zelda" or "NBA All Stars"// I'll leave you with tall-scars// I can son-you// And have you "batted to death" like "long games" on "ballparks"//O/ Shit, thats not English, shit, thats not me,-James// Jimmy, Jim, Jamie however tha fuck you have ya name// I'll serve this herb-ridden-bastard// Talk about "fake-Slim"/ In tha "film" "Jimmys" an "acting-Marshall-Mathers"//O/ I've outpunched you and i'm not even at two-oh// You too-slow, and fools-go to hells depths with two-holes// So "don't step" like "disabled people", i'm too-cold// You-told point blank you "fake" like "fools-gold"//O/ Each superior skill in this battle? I possess-it// You "tasting da-feet" like you got a "foot fetish"// This ain't nation-or-race// Damn, i'm just here ta/ "Blow up ya scripts" like putting "grenades-on-ya-page"//O/ Slash-ya-face-in-my-rage, i'm placing-my-range// Right in ya fucking head at pace-through-ya-brains// I'm already through. Prolly be me-and-Rock// 'Cos i'm battling "nobody" - i don't "believe-in-God"//O/ This a no-show, this venue has no-hos// Jimmy, get out!/ Go back to ya mobile-home// First i'm stab 'til ya red, next-i'm-shooting-ya// You wouldn't "get head" becoming an "executioner"//O/ Fuck any style-you-spit// Tha only time i'm "feeling you" is "sticking my hands" in "piles-of-shit"// Ya bullshit! And ya really think that i care?// "Jimmy" "B [be] Rabbit" so i'll win by a "hare"//

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