Why was I up until 6 rapping against Sarana who cannot defend herself against the verbal onslaught?
The Stylatollah: The Stylatollah: I cut mc's like old pasta,
the MC every MC's lost ta, got more stories than Paul Austa and kick the data
longer than the Mahabhrata
The Stylatollah: LDK: MCs is hermits and I'm the vagabond beata, I spit religious text like the bhagavad gita
The Stylatollah: LDK: I move more snow than Denver's seen, I got these hoes on their toes like they ben vereen
Sarana: they are actually quite good
The Stylatollah: The Stylatollah: I hit the spleen, got a routine, Soylent Green is fakers. Tear em up and square em up, then tupperware them til my next seder
LDK: I hear that soylent shit, my mic is made out of people, if my body is a temple, then my flow is the steeple
The Stylatollah: That shit is mad fecal, I crush it into soylent treacle, baby bubba it's all legal when you know the right people
Sarana: are you going to an 8 Mile?
The Stylatollah: that was a few hours ago though
The Stylatollah: hellz no
The Stylatollah: I used to do some battle rapping in junior high school
The Stylatollah: and high school
The Stylatollah: and occasionally against friends
The Stylatollah: in fact, this
Sarana: but you should do it in front of other people
The Stylatollah: actually, odd story,
The Stylatollah: sexy-voice Dave and I used to battle rap all the time
The Stylatollah: I was way out of practice freestyling, and he was just starting
The Stylatollah: We could get on these weird tangents of rhyming
The Stylatollah: one night, some people at the coffee shop we hung out at invited us to theirs for a party
The Stylatollah: We were going around the party battlerapping, because there was a DJ
The Stylatollah: and we rapped about all sorts of random things
The Stylatollah: anyway, we go up to this buff guy with a shaved head, and started telling him, in rhyme, to bust one about World War II
The Stylatollah: and dude goes off on this crazy ass freestyle about the different military strategies, it's all on beat and flows well
The Stylatollah: Turns out his grandfather was a POW in Germany, and dude has his diary
Sarana: wow
Sarana: and he was a good rapper!
Sarana: ?
The Stylatollah: yes, he was a total MC as well
Sarana: cool
Sarana: did you keep in touch with him?
The Stylatollah: no
The Stylatollah: He was nice...and Portland's pretty small that way, so if I want to get into the hip hop scene here, I can probably find him
The Stylatollah: Speaking of which, I finally found it
The Stylatollah: http://www.livejournal.com/users/uberuberhip/9680.html#cutid1
Sarana: what is this/
Sarana: ?
The Stylatollah: Well, Chris (our friend, he lived here over the summer, but at this point I didn't know him) wrote a post that Kirk dissed, then Chris dissed Kirk, and they started rhyming, and Kirk enlisted Dnaiel and I to smack Chris with devastating rhymes out of nowhere
The Stylatollah: so we did
Sarana: you guys are quite good
Sarana: even though you're white
The Stylatollah: SOME OF US ARE QUITE GOOD
The Stylatollah: Even out of practice I'm matchless, use chump mc's as matches and fire them off as warning dispatches for the masses
The Stylatollah: you going to respond to that?
Sarana: i'm, sure you are
Sarana: ummm
Sarana: probably
Sarana: the thing is i really have to see how you put them down in person
Sarana: it's not very much use being good on paper
The Stylatollah: Slow on the rhymes slow on the typing, Sarana's MC skills aren't reliable MC'ing or skyping
Sarana: yeah ok
Sarana: i know that poo head
Sarana: (see good come back don't you think)
The Stylatollah: Is it the right thing for her to verbally assault the mic king? It is frightnening, I looking like a verbal-crazed viking
The Stylatollah: Now she's spitening, but that is so inviting, sighting the sore spot that I hit up with forget-me-nots
The Stylatollah: Let me rock another rhymes, I won't baby you, I'm not Benny Spock, she hasn't heard Biggie or any Pac so I have plenty to shock
The Stylatollah: I can let a penny drop and she will have nothing to say, or maybe that's just the British way, no wish to fray or piss to take
The Stylatollah: I ache for her abuse, but it's just no use
Sarana: wow
Sarana: i like that
Sarana: its quite sexy
The Stylatollah: she's all busy getting loose with the juice and gin
The Stylatollah: I can throw deuces and win, without a nuisance to pin
The Stylatollah: I crush her rhymes liike a moose crush a hen, this UK export seems soon to descend, you're the papoose in the pen and there is no excuse defensible
Sarana: hello?
The Stylatollah: so be sensible and stop actin all reprehensible, because your rhymes are mad dispensible and barely comprehensible, you may be mensa, but in the contaext of your rhymes that seems immensanable
The Stylatollah: unmensanable
The Stylatollah: pardon
The Stylatollah: so
Sarana: well that's really shown me
The Stylatollah: nowthat I have rocked you with a fierce rhyme, what is your response
Sarana: i ain't gonna be able to sho head face nowhere now
The Stylatollah: at least not in an MC competition
Sarana: my
Sarana: face
The Stylatollah: I'm sure people want to see your face elsewhere
Sarana: where?
The Stylatollah: LONDON, WHERE RHYMES ARE WACK
Sarana: they are not
Sarana: AND i live in Hackney where most on the rapping comes from
Sarana: so get yo' pink ass down here brovver
Sarana: ahhh
The Stylatollah: Rhymes from Hackney are Hackneyed, you cannot use that to attack me, will I fuck them up verbally? gladly. do they need it? badly. how will they leave the battle? sadly, cos they got more Bad Seeds than Henry's Dream
The Stylatollah: any gleam of hope is deranged when I bring the cultural exchange that leads only to extinction, except when it brings me distinctions
Sarana: i read your hackney rhyme to people here
Sarana: they thought it was funny too
The Stylatollah: People hear me, their vision gets bleary, it gets more piercy than Marge when I get fiercely peerless, and hence fearless when I have to quash the rap equivalent or terciary syphilis. You belittle this but this is pivotal shit your dicking with
Sarana: dude aren't you tired?
Sarana: your rapping does get better with the burgeoning dawn
The Stylatollah: I walk on my feet and I make suckers balk at the heat, I caulk you to defeat just by talking in my sleep
Sarana: i am going to record this for posterity so when you become a famous rapper i can sell it for lots of money
Sarana: can you do some more raps about me?
The Stylatollah: Sarana fawns to my power, I shower on the disses and she blows kisses, doesn't even rethink becoming the Mrs. This is crazy but mad understandable, I mean don't women see strong mandibles as commendible?
The Stylatollah: It's kind of like an in-house Cyrano mixed with the Sopranos, but built like Ivanhoe, and in high demand for cameos
The Stylatollah: Vanity? oh yes, that has been handed me, helps when you have a galaxy of fallacies postulated by wack mc's. It doesn't tax me, but I often feel like it's a sissyphean task, and there are 5 new wack mc's where I just slaughtered the last. But this vast expanse of wackness is my manifest destiny to conquer and submit to my most detested needs these mcs that are a pest to me
The Stylatollah: They fall like leprosy parts, and that tests the heart, not to mention messy to cart off after they attempt a pesky Karamazov on the mic Mr. Blast-Off, when they shoulda been taking their hats off
The Stylatollah: Even when I'm sleeping, I'll be still freaking, and if they hear me in Peking, it will not be a freak thing to see the city writhing when I'm speaking, because they're all peaking
The Stylatollah: ok, I'm going to sleep now
The Stylatollah: really this time
Sarana: wow
Sarana: thanks
The Stylatollah: the Pekinese peak with ease, from fricking and fricaseeing, I speak these things because they're freaking pleasing, that is why I cannot stop skeezing
The Stylatollah: ok ok
The Stylatollah: no really
The Stylatollah: I have to go
Sarana: ok good night
The Stylatollah: REMing instead of IDMing, stupid dieters be phenfenning, that's the setuup to a bad ending while I go on for extra innings
The Stylatollah: spinning and spinning, it's a spitting in the wind thing, if Lavenda were here he'd be singing ying tiddle I po until I started hemrrhaging
Sarana: GO TO BED
The Stylatollah: but leveraging that against the current property value adds nothing new to the tally that I put on the valley earlier when my thoughts were pearlier, now they're all twirlier and the way they unfurl isirksome
The Stylatollah: Say this to yourself, "I AM A PERSON" yes now I am dispersing, yes now it's a dispersion instead of a diversion, and I blame this incursion on the worstening of the hour, I should probably just shower and go to the office and be dour
The Stylatollah: now or never, Sam Sever produced 3rd Bass and it was 1st rate, so much I masturbated to it, but I was like twelve so how the hell can society judge me? they get all uppy and judgy and I get all grudgy while they are fuddy duddy. Rad Budley is the name on my myspace, that is the right place, but I'd rather eat at a Thai place, my grace, I have a message from the wobbler, who used to be a rhyme cobbler, but now his rhymes are knob gobblers
The Stylatollah: Don't bother her, Sarana has company, this flunky sea of monkey words are going dunky dunky
Sarana: dunky dunky
The Stylatollah: and are all wonky, they smack of wack and honkey. They are from my double album Songs in the Key of Stpuid, a symhony in fourteen bowel movements
The Stylatollah: That is some Home Improvement shit right there. You need to adapt to the attunement and your appreciation will start its bloomment
The Stylatollah: you will va-va-voom it, stylists will Vidal Sasson it, and all the pundits will be on my unit right before they national lampoon it
The Stylatollah: But I will Cocoon it and it will live forever with Walter Brimley, even though after awhile I fear he'll get Von Himmlery and I will have to write a request for immunity to Hillary
The Stylatollah: My rhyme stiyle this hour is spillory, kinda mental fillery, I unclog my head and it spills ills with ease, very dillweed but still needed
The Stylatollah: I WILL NEVER BE DEFEATED. That should be repeated. Tell the media so people will read it. They can ask me for other quotes but I will never cede it.
The Stylatollah: I take my grouse and I am burning down the house. It is cute but it is hellish kinda like Jim Henson's Faust
Sarana: my grouse?
The Stylatollah: Wendell, where's my cheddar? I thought I set it on the dresser. How am I going to buy the box set of Ledbetter? I am so goddamn upsetter than yester
The Stylatollah: day, when I was half the band I used to lead, now there is no excuse to read, I should be cooking goose and mead and lying on the beaches in some fuschia breeches, yes I am familiar with the teaches of Peaches, and they are not too far from my reaches
The Stylatollah: or clutches, other scholars have taught me bupkiss, I hate to interupt this, but people can't see me like Sunffleupagus, they're all like, "who the fuck that is?"
The Stylatollah: And I introduce myself as Reginald, put them all to bed in hell, then go do some kiss and tell, and be branded an infidel
The Stylatollah: Just because of my infidelities. Ah, but they were such delicacies! I did them while I watched The Pelican Brief, and maybe the Toronto Maple Leafs, usually just before I went to sleep
The Stylatollah: Chief, I admit it was my wife who queefed. You got beef, then say it please. I want there to be some indemnity you guarantee in the next letter you send to me
The Stylatollah: My savings---spend them please! I have no time for these amenities! Let's go get some bugers at Wendy's and then soak our frosties with Grenadine
The Stylatollah: That Ketamine! I'll have to take less than deemed beforehand, but that's O.K. for this type of scene. Stupid hipsters! I have gotten with your mother. Now Franz Ferdinand doesn't make you hip no more. You bite so much your lip is sore, I play some Boz Scaggs, you hit the door. Maybe it will come back in style, I figure that will take a while, I will have to market, sell, and hustle, just so people will appreciate Lido Shuffle
Sarana: don't tell me you are still here!?
The Stylatollah: And that's the lowdown. I eat some jojos at the hodown. Don't let the sun go down on Boz Scagg's renown, he has too much artistic talent to cold be clowned
The Stylatollah: You still want to sample his funky basslines. I talk to you no more, hipster waste-of-time!
Sarana: hey~! that's not fair!
The Stylatollah: Say some lines about Ralph fucking Fiennes. You will toe the line and thn go to mine
The Stylatollah: And you will leave when I turn on Hanson, and say "I'm going home to jerk off to pics of Shirley Manson" And that is old like Ted Danson. And tat shit is as out of the way as Jantzen
The Stylatollah: These records lay! In your front room! All weak shit in! your front room! The mystery's not! In your front room (duhduhduhduh) Pearl Jam's not a great band
Pearl Jam's not a great band
Pearl Jam's not a great band
Pearl Jam's not a grea-eat band
The Stylatollah: LDK: MCs is hermits and I'm the vagabond beata, I spit religious text like the bhagavad gita
The Stylatollah: LDK: I move more snow than Denver's seen, I got these hoes on their toes like they ben vereen
Sarana: they are actually quite good
The Stylatollah: The Stylatollah: I hit the spleen, got a routine, Soylent Green is fakers. Tear em up and square em up, then tupperware them til my next seder
LDK: I hear that soylent shit, my mic is made out of people, if my body is a temple, then my flow is the steeple
The Stylatollah: That shit is mad fecal, I crush it into soylent treacle, baby bubba it's all legal when you know the right people
Sarana: are you going to an 8 Mile?
The Stylatollah: that was a few hours ago though
The Stylatollah: hellz no
The Stylatollah: I used to do some battle rapping in junior high school
The Stylatollah: and high school
The Stylatollah: and occasionally against friends
The Stylatollah: in fact, this
Sarana: but you should do it in front of other people
The Stylatollah: actually, odd story,
The Stylatollah: sexy-voice Dave and I used to battle rap all the time
The Stylatollah: I was way out of practice freestyling, and he was just starting
The Stylatollah: We could get on these weird tangents of rhyming
The Stylatollah: one night, some people at the coffee shop we hung out at invited us to theirs for a party
The Stylatollah: We were going around the party battlerapping, because there was a DJ
The Stylatollah: and we rapped about all sorts of random things
The Stylatollah: anyway, we go up to this buff guy with a shaved head, and started telling him, in rhyme, to bust one about World War II
The Stylatollah: and dude goes off on this crazy ass freestyle about the different military strategies, it's all on beat and flows well
The Stylatollah: Turns out his grandfather was a POW in Germany, and dude has his diary
Sarana: wow
Sarana: and he was a good rapper!
Sarana: ?
The Stylatollah: yes, he was a total MC as well
Sarana: cool
Sarana: did you keep in touch with him?
The Stylatollah: no
The Stylatollah: He was nice...and Portland's pretty small that way, so if I want to get into the hip hop scene here, I can probably find him
The Stylatollah: Speaking of which, I finally found it
The Stylatollah: http://www.livejournal.com/users/uberuberhip/9680.html#cutid1
Sarana: what is this/
Sarana: ?
The Stylatollah: Well, Chris (our friend, he lived here over the summer, but at this point I didn't know him) wrote a post that Kirk dissed, then Chris dissed Kirk, and they started rhyming, and Kirk enlisted Dnaiel and I to smack Chris with devastating rhymes out of nowhere
The Stylatollah: so we did
Sarana: you guys are quite good
Sarana: even though you're white
The Stylatollah: SOME OF US ARE QUITE GOOD
The Stylatollah: Even out of practice I'm matchless, use chump mc's as matches and fire them off as warning dispatches for the masses
The Stylatollah: you going to respond to that?
Sarana: i'm, sure you are
Sarana: ummm
Sarana: probably
Sarana: the thing is i really have to see how you put them down in person
Sarana: it's not very much use being good on paper
The Stylatollah: Slow on the rhymes slow on the typing, Sarana's MC skills aren't reliable MC'ing or skyping
Sarana: yeah ok
Sarana: i know that poo head
Sarana: (see good come back don't you think)
The Stylatollah: Is it the right thing for her to verbally assault the mic king? It is frightnening, I looking like a verbal-crazed viking
The Stylatollah: Now she's spitening, but that is so inviting, sighting the sore spot that I hit up with forget-me-nots
The Stylatollah: Let me rock another rhymes, I won't baby you, I'm not Benny Spock, she hasn't heard Biggie or any Pac so I have plenty to shock
The Stylatollah: I can let a penny drop and she will have nothing to say, or maybe that's just the British way, no wish to fray or piss to take
The Stylatollah: I ache for her abuse, but it's just no use
Sarana: wow
Sarana: i like that
Sarana: its quite sexy
The Stylatollah: she's all busy getting loose with the juice and gin
The Stylatollah: I can throw deuces and win, without a nuisance to pin
The Stylatollah: I crush her rhymes liike a moose crush a hen, this UK export seems soon to descend, you're the papoose in the pen and there is no excuse defensible
Sarana: hello?
The Stylatollah: so be sensible and stop actin all reprehensible, because your rhymes are mad dispensible and barely comprehensible, you may be mensa, but in the contaext of your rhymes that seems immensanable
The Stylatollah: unmensanable
The Stylatollah: pardon
The Stylatollah: so
Sarana: well that's really shown me
The Stylatollah: nowthat I have rocked you with a fierce rhyme, what is your response
Sarana: i ain't gonna be able to sho head face nowhere now
The Stylatollah: at least not in an MC competition
Sarana: my
Sarana: face
The Stylatollah: I'm sure people want to see your face elsewhere
Sarana: where?
The Stylatollah: LONDON, WHERE RHYMES ARE WACK
Sarana: they are not
Sarana: AND i live in Hackney where most on the rapping comes from
Sarana: so get yo' pink ass down here brovver
Sarana: ahhh
The Stylatollah: Rhymes from Hackney are Hackneyed, you cannot use that to attack me, will I fuck them up verbally? gladly. do they need it? badly. how will they leave the battle? sadly, cos they got more Bad Seeds than Henry's Dream
The Stylatollah: any gleam of hope is deranged when I bring the cultural exchange that leads only to extinction, except when it brings me distinctions
Sarana: i read your hackney rhyme to people here
Sarana: they thought it was funny too
The Stylatollah: People hear me, their vision gets bleary, it gets more piercy than Marge when I get fiercely peerless, and hence fearless when I have to quash the rap equivalent or terciary syphilis. You belittle this but this is pivotal shit your dicking with
Sarana: dude aren't you tired?
Sarana: your rapping does get better with the burgeoning dawn
The Stylatollah: I walk on my feet and I make suckers balk at the heat, I caulk you to defeat just by talking in my sleep
Sarana: i am going to record this for posterity so when you become a famous rapper i can sell it for lots of money
Sarana: can you do some more raps about me?
The Stylatollah: Sarana fawns to my power, I shower on the disses and she blows kisses, doesn't even rethink becoming the Mrs. This is crazy but mad understandable, I mean don't women see strong mandibles as commendible?
The Stylatollah: It's kind of like an in-house Cyrano mixed with the Sopranos, but built like Ivanhoe, and in high demand for cameos
The Stylatollah: Vanity? oh yes, that has been handed me, helps when you have a galaxy of fallacies postulated by wack mc's. It doesn't tax me, but I often feel like it's a sissyphean task, and there are 5 new wack mc's where I just slaughtered the last. But this vast expanse of wackness is my manifest destiny to conquer and submit to my most detested needs these mcs that are a pest to me
The Stylatollah: They fall like leprosy parts, and that tests the heart, not to mention messy to cart off after they attempt a pesky Karamazov on the mic Mr. Blast-Off, when they shoulda been taking their hats off
The Stylatollah: Even when I'm sleeping, I'll be still freaking, and if they hear me in Peking, it will not be a freak thing to see the city writhing when I'm speaking, because they're all peaking
The Stylatollah: ok, I'm going to sleep now
The Stylatollah: really this time
Sarana: wow
Sarana: thanks
The Stylatollah: the Pekinese peak with ease, from fricking and fricaseeing, I speak these things because they're freaking pleasing, that is why I cannot stop skeezing
The Stylatollah: ok ok
The Stylatollah: no really
The Stylatollah: I have to go
Sarana: ok good night
The Stylatollah: REMing instead of IDMing, stupid dieters be phenfenning, that's the setuup to a bad ending while I go on for extra innings
The Stylatollah: spinning and spinning, it's a spitting in the wind thing, if Lavenda were here he'd be singing ying tiddle I po until I started hemrrhaging
Sarana: GO TO BED
The Stylatollah: but leveraging that against the current property value adds nothing new to the tally that I put on the valley earlier when my thoughts were pearlier, now they're all twirlier and the way they unfurl isirksome
The Stylatollah: Say this to yourself, "I AM A PERSON" yes now I am dispersing, yes now it's a dispersion instead of a diversion, and I blame this incursion on the worstening of the hour, I should probably just shower and go to the office and be dour
The Stylatollah: now or never, Sam Sever produced 3rd Bass and it was 1st rate, so much I masturbated to it, but I was like twelve so how the hell can society judge me? they get all uppy and judgy and I get all grudgy while they are fuddy duddy. Rad Budley is the name on my myspace, that is the right place, but I'd rather eat at a Thai place, my grace, I have a message from the wobbler, who used to be a rhyme cobbler, but now his rhymes are knob gobblers
The Stylatollah: Don't bother her, Sarana has company, this flunky sea of monkey words are going dunky dunky
Sarana: dunky dunky
The Stylatollah: and are all wonky, they smack of wack and honkey. They are from my double album Songs in the Key of Stpuid, a symhony in fourteen bowel movements
The Stylatollah: That is some Home Improvement shit right there. You need to adapt to the attunement and your appreciation will start its bloomment
The Stylatollah: you will va-va-voom it, stylists will Vidal Sasson it, and all the pundits will be on my unit right before they national lampoon it
The Stylatollah: But I will Cocoon it and it will live forever with Walter Brimley, even though after awhile I fear he'll get Von Himmlery and I will have to write a request for immunity to Hillary
The Stylatollah: My rhyme stiyle this hour is spillory, kinda mental fillery, I unclog my head and it spills ills with ease, very dillweed but still needed
The Stylatollah: I WILL NEVER BE DEFEATED. That should be repeated. Tell the media so people will read it. They can ask me for other quotes but I will never cede it.
The Stylatollah: I take my grouse and I am burning down the house. It is cute but it is hellish kinda like Jim Henson's Faust
Sarana: my grouse?
The Stylatollah: Wendell, where's my cheddar? I thought I set it on the dresser. How am I going to buy the box set of Ledbetter? I am so goddamn upsetter than yester
The Stylatollah: day, when I was half the band I used to lead, now there is no excuse to read, I should be cooking goose and mead and lying on the beaches in some fuschia breeches, yes I am familiar with the teaches of Peaches, and they are not too far from my reaches
The Stylatollah: or clutches, other scholars have taught me bupkiss, I hate to interupt this, but people can't see me like Sunffleupagus, they're all like, "who the fuck that is?"
The Stylatollah: And I introduce myself as Reginald, put them all to bed in hell, then go do some kiss and tell, and be branded an infidel
The Stylatollah: Just because of my infidelities. Ah, but they were such delicacies! I did them while I watched The Pelican Brief, and maybe the Toronto Maple Leafs, usually just before I went to sleep
The Stylatollah: Chief, I admit it was my wife who queefed. You got beef, then say it please. I want there to be some indemnity you guarantee in the next letter you send to me
The Stylatollah: My savings---spend them please! I have no time for these amenities! Let's go get some bugers at Wendy's and then soak our frosties with Grenadine
The Stylatollah: That Ketamine! I'll have to take less than deemed beforehand, but that's O.K. for this type of scene. Stupid hipsters! I have gotten with your mother. Now Franz Ferdinand doesn't make you hip no more. You bite so much your lip is sore, I play some Boz Scaggs, you hit the door. Maybe it will come back in style, I figure that will take a while, I will have to market, sell, and hustle, just so people will appreciate Lido Shuffle
Sarana: don't tell me you are still here!?
The Stylatollah: And that's the lowdown. I eat some jojos at the hodown. Don't let the sun go down on Boz Scagg's renown, he has too much artistic talent to cold be clowned
The Stylatollah: You still want to sample his funky basslines. I talk to you no more, hipster waste-of-time!
Sarana: hey~! that's not fair!
The Stylatollah: Say some lines about Ralph fucking Fiennes. You will toe the line and thn go to mine
The Stylatollah: And you will leave when I turn on Hanson, and say "I'm going home to jerk off to pics of Shirley Manson" And that is old like Ted Danson. And tat shit is as out of the way as Jantzen
The Stylatollah: These records lay! In your front room! All weak shit in! your front room! The mystery's not! In your front room (duhduhduhduh) Pearl Jam's not a great band
Pearl Jam's not a great band
Pearl Jam's not a great band
Pearl Jam's not a grea-eat band