Open Mic: Tryin' a shorter line approach...

Haha... so I started out with shorter lines, and got back on that progressively get longer shit... oh well... let me know what you think...

One, two, three to the four
I don't want to beef anymore
Now I kick free's when i'm bored
I'll defeat emcee's wit' a sword
Decievin' a whore like a real G
Gettin' away wit' murder like a real thief
What's the deal, b? Ya ready to feel heat?
I'm done wit' beef unless it's that real meat
My rhymes are a real treat for ya minds to eat
Wannabe gangsta's can't even rhyme wit' street
Can't even rhyme wit' me, Don't even try it, b
'cause ya lines ain't nice, ain't even kinda neat
Let me find a beat, here we go, here we go
It's that J. Dilla 'Raw Shit,' now hear me flow
You ain't gettin' near me, yo, n' I ain't stoppin'
Keep ya minds in awe of the rhymes i'm droppin'
Got ya diggin' the kind i'm rockin', That's what i'm talkin' 'bout
Tryin' not to beef, so don't worry 'bout who i'm mockin' now
That's Wu-Tang's 'Heaterz,' It's time to coffin' clowns
My rhythm's ridiculous, you can't stop the sounds
Is they any cops around? I certainly hope not
'cause word on the street is they don't like to smoke pot
I like to joke lots, Especially to Common's, 'I Got A Right Ta' beat
but I ain't like most writers, I don't have to write to beats
I have a right to beef wit' whoever, but right now it's nobody
'cause my punches will leave ya nose bloody
My flow's studied, I keep my flow's steady
Bumpin' on a beat, the bass so heavy
I'm so deadly, soon you'll see
My opponent's what you'll be doomed to be
I'll goon MC's, i'm soon to be the illest
I'm that cool cat ya'll jus' wanna chill with
I cypher by myself, sir, 'cause you got no skill, kids
My skill's sick, like that Necro track 'Most Sadistic'
Sick of hearin', "Every punch you throw, ya missed, kid!"
So i've missed hits, on that grown man shit now, I've kissed tits
Y'all don't even have a rep, how ya supposed to risk it?!
My rhyme schemes are mystic, I'll 'Make 'em Clap To This' shit
Y'all ain't Lyrical nothin', more like lyrical misfits!
What is this? Did you miss it? Who did Rip diss?
My flows will take you where the trip is
Admit it, i'm the quicket wit' punches, you don't see 'em comin'
Like a treadmill, I keep 'em runnin'
This is gettin' deep or somethin', some are saints n' some sin
I'm on that Dick Cheyney shit n' you bitches the ones i'll be huntin'
I'll be punchin' like Tyson in his prime, son, when the time comes
I'm proof Canadians got flow' cause y'all know where i'm from

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