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View Full Version : The Official "Luther Large vs. Creepy Follows Spar Thread


Luther Large
04-02-2006, 07:17 PM
whateva u got to drop on me creepy bring it

Luther Large
04-02-2006, 07:18 PM
I bring 4th the barell of a gun smokin, exodus hazed/
your raps are farthest from str8 thats why i considered u gay/
gettin u ripped up in rythyms my prisym is a system of nickle plates/
spit like an ace multiply the taste plus my vision is great/

fuck it let me switch up my style real kwick

yo i let it off on the spot like the blast of a glock
u got tracks but i run'em hard like that from the cops
sun im hot kwick fast to put the gun in his top
claimin he runs the streets but it's only his chops
so pleez homie stop reppin ya phony block
or else i clear the shelf the chromey i let pop/
shotty pumps ya body'll get soft if u drop an album.... it'd flop/
cuz your weak presence wouldnt sell inside of a gift shop/
swift with the art i could spit an acapella and still make ya head bop/
in the cut stainin ya clothes red to leave u dead in the spot/ (stain/spot)


i hope the wordplay and metaphors and punchlines didnt go over ya'll heads

i told u man i got different styles for every occasion it's just a matter of which 1 i feel like usin at the time son

CREEPY FOLLOWS
04-03-2006, 08:45 PM
Luther you're weak, shot4shot, punch4punch/
I'm shittin verses down your throat like u takin a 'hot lunch'/
you'll catch a 'dirty sanchez' in jail/
stuck between a man2man sandwich, you're frale, beggin for bail/
Lil Luther, a freckle face girl like Punky Brewster/
why I keep calling him fag?, 'cause any cockldoo, he like a rooster/
this fuckin dude is gay, homie quit droppin them jokes/
the only bars you ever dropped was the soap/
talk shit about my hood but can't say it to my face/
I'll make you deepthroat the nine like Linda Lovelace/
so quit tryin to drop knowledge, you got a.d.d.?/ {told him before}
this hermit feels safe {home} protected by a.d.t./
for 80 g's, I'll place bombs where your babies be/
been sonning mothafuckas like you since '83/
spittin 'bout nickleplates, but wanna hardly brawl/
at Christmas time you asked Santa for a Barbie doll/
you're into incest, your mother is a sexual freak/
that's why you got her name tattooed on your two butt cheeks/
and this just verse 1, I ain't done with you yet/
I ain't stoppin til I see Luther hung from his neck/
don't front son, the verse got your girlfriend wet/
but she's only 16 and can't reach to clubs yet/

and that's just a warm up, you not ready for next heat

CREEPY FOLLOWS
04-04-2006, 02:32 AM
yo, where I'm from, we got fiends on da block/
lil youths pumpin rocks, with red beams on the glock/
never snitch, intervening with cops/
you'll find your self leaning six feet deep in a box or left bleeding in shock/
the other day my homie lost his lil younger bro to guns/
the hood's real day by day, the hunger grows amongst/
I spit the realness, so you can follow and heave/
but diss my hood, Luther please you could swallow my seeds/
hey yo I'm repin Trench Town T.O., EgWest is the strip/
you disrespect, I'll bless your chest wit a clip/
I got a whole entarauge of gorillas and lions/
villainous tyrants, I'm the realest defying revealing the science/
chump you couldn't walk on my turf/
so fuck spittin a verse, you got to worry 'bout kickin up dirt/
ya keep talking 'bout my city like it's soft and sweet/
but come to lil J.A. you wouldn't cross the street!!!

That one's for dissin my hood, you know I'm gonna defend that and rep, Trench Town EgWest to the death biatch!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

CREEPY FOLLOWS
04-11-2006, 01:54 AM
Yo Luther what up with this thread homie, you ain't got no more heat to get at me with?

CREEPY FOLLOWS
04-11-2006, 03:12 AM
hey yo I'll smash on this sucker, check it

this battle ain't done, YOU fuckin wit the grimiest one?/
Luther you got a better chance of outshining the sun/
see before I was rhymin for fun/
but all I do now is smash suckas, make hits and grind in the slum/
I bet you never did a crime where you're from/
matter of fact you a dirty snitch, you'd probably drop a dime on your son/
so don't get mad 'cause I'm spendin all my time with your hun/
besides, there's all kinds of cum you can find on her tongue/
I'm simply better than you, any scale and lyrical note/
you better check your church priest for any spiritual hope/
so quit rappin 'bout gats, you'd never blast a shot/
you never had the mack-milly and the plastic glocks/
hey yo I'll beat this fag silly wit his plastic cock/
until I see his corpse twitching in a massive shock/
and I won't stop until the casket drops, I spit tighter/ you won the last battle due to a default of dick riders!!!!!!!!!

quick 16's, what up?