(514): Just saw some guy walking down the street rapping about various types of pasta.

Today I am 23... which means that technically i shouldn't be doing this anymore:

From: Daniel To: Katy
Uh uh, uh yeah…here we go

Who’s lookin’ at me?
Got this surveyor, purveyor, of the purest kinda midget,
Kinda short ass little punk whose inches just touch double digits man that’s tiny,
Like an ant, I got you squashed beneath my feet,
The only feat you’ll ever achieve is suckin’ on your mother’s teat

So while you cryin’, and be brayin’ that this cretin got you down,
I’ll be watching from the gutter wearing ‘Lyric Winner’ crown,
Cos I’ll stomp you and smash you, like KFC does to a chicken,
Prepare your burger, grab a mop and get back in the kitchen…BITCH.




From: Katy To: Daniel
Who’s looking at you?
Well Bognor Regis boy, don’t be frontin’ you aint witty,
Your lyrics aint tight, your bars ain’t right, blud their pretty s**tty, (oh no she didn’t…)
I may be small, but boy I’m hot, good thing in a small package,
Now hold it down and hold on tight, prepare for lyrical smackage.

So stick to the gutter, with your crown, cause mans is from the street,
Cause down there blud, it ain’t so hot and you can’t take the heat.
From up on road I’ll take the throne, and boy you just can’t touch ‘dis,
You got done by one short gal cause this is how she does this…..




From: Daniel To: Katy
BLAM!!!!
Oh girl you know I’m sorry, I was under impressions we was battling,
If I’d known I’d receive a monologue containing your incessant prattling,
I’d have turned the other cheek but not to be struck so that you know,
I’m talking ass is what I’d show you cos it smells like your lyrics yo!

Seriously you wanna diss me cos of my seaside roots?
Girl you told me you’s Irish, what, should I call out all my troops?
We’ll blast you down to earth, bury you in sarcastic compilations,
Go enjoy your junk food, and to my words your masturbation.
BRRRRAP BRAP BRRRAP!!



From: Katy To: Daniel
Dude, I’ll give you props, a comeback here for sure,
But rating it my brudda, I’d have to say its pretty poor.
You say you’ll bring your troops, blud you’d better have an army,
Cause anything less, you’ll be left in a mess, dude it would be barmy.

You say the words you spout do come from deep within you’re a**e,
Its true, where as my lyricism is somewhat expert class.
Masturbation darling, well I’ll leave that to you boys.
Instead I’ll demonstrate to you that guys are nowt but toys.

Toys with which I entertain myself when I see fit,
Toys which try to spin some lines but end up looking s**t.
Toys, they’re just for Christmas, they are not forever.
And you are not for rapping son, cause you just ain’t that clever.

RUUUUUUUUDEEEEEE BOIIIIIII!

Twenty three and i'm still Jenny from the block... bad boy for life.