/biz/ - Business & Finance

V. Vaughn—the travelin' Vaudeville Villain
Who don't give a flyin' fuck who ain't not feelin' him
Watch what ya dealin' him: Ace, king, death card
Strong-arm the wrong man, pardon the left, god
Get money and earn it, that everything-you-touch-turn shit
Got much to learn, kid; write it up, burn shit
Light it up like the Dutch when the hash melt
Only time they see him when they meet him with the cash belt
Ay caramba, now that's my number
One dry summer, as far as I remember
Burnt-out, but gainin' every edgy penny
Then he hit him straight to the head like Reggie Denny
Call him back when you need some more yak, Horshack
Doin' 80 down the Van Wyck on horseback
Your man sick, but he wreck tracks, puto
Get back too, bro, exactamundo
Viktor the director flip a script like Rob Reiner
The way a lotta dudes rhyme their name should be "knob shiner"
For a buck, they'd likely dance the Jig or do the Hucklebuck
To Vik it's no big deal, they're just a buncha knuckle-fucks
You wonder how well would they hold up in a holding cell
It sorta had the strange makings of a tale told in hell
Like "Oh well," hold tall riches
If the feds is really after them they just kill all the snitches
On borrowed-time rhymes, gassed by the silver screen
They act like their monkey-ass can heal back like Wolverine
Mellow out what y'all bellow out ya yellow mouth
What happened to the typa spit that used to help a fellow out?
No doubt, leave a rapper in a body cast
And wonder what he was doing while we was in a karate class
Snotty ass, it's really like he was a white-belt
Right before he "night-night" ask him how the light felt
I wouldn't take their tape if they gave it free
Maybe it's me, baby it's V!
Throw down the key, y'all know how shit be
In the naked city, rappers is so giddy
That's no ditty, Vaughn so witty
The way he take no prisoners and show no pity
It's how son became a big man from a black boy
To name names, a really big fan of Dan Aykroyd

Train a sane brain to an insane train of thought
On a campaign trail he came to gain your support
Charge cash for a autograph
Say some shit to make your daughter laugh, then slaughter the ass
See 'em on the big screen like Steve McHEEM
Do somethin' and never be back once he leaves the scene
Keep more medicated pads than Stridex
For his own side wreck with no known side effects
Before you press charges use your noodle
So what when he grab the mic he crush your cute cuticles
Keep your mouth shut, everything will be beautiful
It would be awfully rude to you, now get back to your hooty hoo
Damn it, it ain't worth the drama, can it
From the calm bandit, eat rhymers like pomegranate
Soon as he stepped in he lit the room
Boom, reschedule my noon with Brit Hume
(DOOM!) In love with Mary Jane, she's my main thing
Pulled her right from that web head, what a lame brain
Maintain and say it, don't spray it
You wanna see your girl again, you might as well pay it
If I had a dime for every rhymer's that bust guns
I'd have a cool mil' for my sons in trust funds
When I was broker than a broke dick dog
I always kept a L to smoke in thick fog
When it rain, it sure do thunderstorm
I got more rhymes in the summer than musty underarms
One, two, microphone checker
First learned to neck off a Home Ec homewrecker
This is back when he was like crib age
When he hit the stage, it's like a gauge to the rib cage
Break the mic like a rock star break a guitar
And jump off the stage like "Yee haw!"

>>54787443
>sounds like quitter talk to me pussy
Disappear, reappear and disappear again
Villain not his hair, he's no Afro-American
If that's the case, he'd be a bald-headed African
Taking all the credit and jetted, astral traveling
Turn a man into a mannequin for AFLAC'n
And being tough actin' Tinactin bluff jacking

>>54722112
>>54722138
>kissinger
Mind like a sewer, servin' rhyme on a skewer
DOOM'll step to a fine dime like he knew her
"My black sister!" She said, "Step back!" before he kissed her
She did the dipper and the smack just missed her
There go a list of politics like Henry Kissinger
99% of rap's just a friendly listener
I'm like, "These dudes must have some screws loose to hate y'all"
Or a couple of ounces short of deuce-deuce or 8 Ball
Y'all know it's time for the end when the day come
Buy a album, get rudely insulted over fake drums
Same CDs you get for free, you break 'em
Wa-alaikum, make 'em eat they food like Steak-umm
Why she wanna ask me if I could pass the paprika?
One hand on the mic, the other on the beaker
Every week or so, peeked out the lab though, eureka!
A technique to keep somethin' uniquer in ya speaker

Gold is up, urgin' all thugs
Trade in y'all chains for cash and splurge it on drugs
A more secure investment
Food and water, a couple of gallons for your cutest daughter
...
A COUPLE GALLONS FOR YOUR CUTEST DAUGHTER

>>54707098
Now this is the sort of Doomposting we need.

>>52220550
>shanty towns
She said "Excuse me, villain, you be illin' with the wordplay"
He said "Thank you very much, I'm billin' 'till Thursday"
Once heard a beat drum it sounded like a sloppy knock
Whoever was on the mic, speech is pure poppycock
These go back to the days of pop lock
Even back to rumors that Mikey died off pop rocks
Where the girls wore jellies and played hop scotch
Older broads used to wear tennises and sloppy socks
APB, the three-headed with the fancy crown
Last seen headed towards a city in shanty town
All of a sudden can't be found
Safe and sound, mouth on the nipple, panties down
Put a choke hold on the monster from Ogopogo
Whoever did they vocals and also they so-so logo
That's a no-no
Through the wheels of steel, phono
Geedorah, no deals pro bono
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sKDeN198j8M

WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT