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The Hogs of Entropy 0973
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"A Cipher"
by - Nybar & Basehead
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<__________[ HOE E-Zine #973 -- 12/18/99 -- http://www.hoe.nu ]_________>
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<basehead> nybar, the best view from your window still looks like hell, i
gotta drop this, as i steal the keys to your cell... boy, you
cant unlock this.. i'm a mental safecracker, a real piece
packer, a language hacker.
<Nybar> safecracker? son, you just lost your keys; I mean, please, why
would you fuck with my steez? language hacker? I'm an attacker
like Pinker doing a rain dance, who's a hacker that can't hack
into his own pants?
<basehead> Nybar, i can hold it and set it, kick some field goal shit on
your halfback ass
<basehead> i'm an MC trainer, in the Bronx DOjo, my weapons are my
acid tongue and my flow.. punk, you wanna battle? i'm good
to G-O!
<Nybar> acid tongue--pick that up from going down on your moms? you
belong in my cheering section, strapped with pom-poms; yo, dojo,
hear that word in a movie? i rep for NYC, an MC sufi
<Nybar> i've mastered chess and GO, but fuck mental arts and games, i've
been blessed with flow, so if you start you'll be in pain
<basehead> When i've got you locked down like a fat kid, crushing your
chest kid.. put your ass to rest.. who you gonna call? like
ray parker jr.. the next hoopt you'll be freaking is a lincoln
at your funeral
<basehead> i take you out at othello, betta recognize, when we hit our
knees for c-lo, your ass is snake eyes.. get your hand out my
bag of tricks, this wizard will fill this track with riffs and
licks
<Nybar> fat kid on top of me, this must be a prophecy, but i'm going to
tell you something, and isn't this sick: you ain't crushing the
king, you ridin' his dick; send me to a coffin, i emerge from the
dirt, but i ain't been killed often, and you're already hurt
<Nybar> snake eyes, fuck that shit, i rip it continuous like Rope, want
to fuck around, but you ain't got a hope--my shit is dope, you'll
have no idea about skills until you see, that this MC drops
epiphanies with clari-ty, while he flows like pee
<basehead> you playin junior high games, boy i'm writin my thesis, for a
post-doc in hiphop because i'm often thrown props, how much on
this battle do you wanna wager? the only props you evah saw
was as a stage manager..
<mogel> yo, nybarious can throw magic, 'cause he's a lyrical wizard,
he'll freeze this whole channel up, castin' a blizzard--but bein'
frozen probably somethin' heady's got down, cause it starts to
suck when you be comin' around.
<oregano2K> I have had dreams about a Basehead/Nybar rap-off and each
time I wake up screaming.
<Nybar> hah, blizzard? my shit does damage one fifty, basehead is shifty
cause he can't get wit me. his knives can't stick me, or
puncture--I'll cut him off at every juncture.
<Nybar> stick pins in his ass like acupuncture--or voodoo, yo mogel, rock
the party like you do
<basehead> Maybe you flow like pee, but i flow like LIT3 in final
fantasy... take your ass out like a wizard ogre, mogz, take
out the checkered flag, cuz i'm roundin my last lap, bustin
caps, this shit is over.
<mogel> ready to quit, huh? it's pretty damn soon. you're still eatin'
lyrical breakfast and it's way past noon.
<Nybar> yeah, this shit is over, but you came in last--find yourself
disintegrated, every time that i blast; final fantasy? like your
fantasy of dissin' me? final because you're dead from pissin'
me...OFF, cause you're comin' too...SOFT?
<Nybar> MC NYBAR, i disconnect your back with a plybar, get ill, you find
yourself in tar--and feathers, because you're wack, can rhyme but
can't put flows--together...
<basehead> you come soft like Snuggles, i come hard like peter north,
getting my lyrical rocks off, cuz my ill rhythms knock socks
off, i unplug you from the wall feedin you half a volt, i use
my hiphop solar panel to aid me in my rhymamatic jolts
<Nybar> rhymin' wizard, i'm rippin' the gizzard, down to the anus,
because my shit is famous--known worldwide, like Ben & Jerry's,
try to test my flow, shit is a little scary, like the cold war,
test my shit, you must not know what you're in for--solar panels?
you're wackest on this channel--don't even step to me, because I
crush the sun, and solar energy
<mogel> havin' to hear me scold ya when i soldja, but i'd buy and sell
your ass any DAY any WAY--let's be straight: you ain't got
ANYTHING to SAY. when mogel hits the mic your mouth is just
gapin' open, observin' all my styles, tryin' to rip me off,
scopin'--waitin' and waitin' years for me to make a mistake but
these lyrical superpowers are somethin' you'll never fake.
<Nybar> i solder your eyes shut, and then rip out your tongue, you get
surprised, cut all over--because your style is mad young, i'll
get ill on you, without any reason; cook you on a skillet, use
OREGANO to season...[note: oregano wuz sayin' shit in da channel!
disparagin' shit!]
<basehead> a gizzard makes sense see, cuz you remind me of holiday
turkey.. i'll take out my funk baster, drop a few drips of
this shit, you'll be coughin up blood.. you cant reach the
sun, with a telescope, in fact you'd lose a battle to dead
catholc pope
<basehead> a papal disgrace, he'd shove his mitre in your face..
whatcha gonna do now? on the steps of st peters, i hit the
woofers then the tweeters, the ladies at my side sayin 'oh
base can we ride??' and they can get the bozack, along with
nybar..
<Nybar> fuck that, i've got a style that be fresh from the street, i'm
battling gods while you lose to characters from Sesame Street,
and by the way, the letter of the day is E, for Emcee, something
you are not--you ain't got any heat, but still trying to blow up
my spot
<basehead> not an mc star, but a burned out moon
<Nybar> papal disgrace? I'll rub this in your face: i battled aquinas,
sent him to outer space; you be a moon, then i guess you're also
a Sailor, wackness in your tune is the crime, and i'm the jailer
<basehead> the only god you battle is some anime shiiiit, i could blind
them dewy eyes with shit this raw.. you wanna battle cartoons,
coo' you can swing with hanna barbara, i'm takin nations by
storm, throwin punches hoistin flags, so step off me fags..
<Nybar> -click-, the door's closed, revoked your rhyming lisence..spit
another wack verse you rehearsed, punch you in the face like Mike
Tyson
<Nybar> but not mic-tie, son, because i clearly won--with my man mogel or
not, this is ya execution...
<mogel> if basehead was a shootin' star, we'd glock that shit with just
one chorus / if comparin' lyrical speed, it's like a ninja to a
brontosaurus!
<Nybar> cartoons is hard, but my shit is invincible; i should put you in
detention, you can battle the principal...
<basehead> Man who you playin? you're just a little mac, can't withstand
this attack.... i drop a sub switch bass and you land on your
back.. barely, snappin necks when my bass comes correct.. get
on your knees and genuflect
<Nybar> ahhh! move like a ninja, cigarettes to singe ya; in the eyes,
you've got wackness i despise, i needn't wear a disguise..just
send my avatar, you should battle my sister, your shit's not on
par
<Nybar> little mac? haven't you heard i'm a vegetarian? where do you
get these played bars, a brain-dead librarian?
<basehead> don't speak of the principal, get yourself back to school, cuz
you aint never learned yourself the cardinal rule.. 1. don't
step to me without an army witcha. and even then i drop
lyrical bombs takin them by surprise, the strategies fail and
i fill up the skies..
<mogel> it's pretty damn clear basehead is headin' for a fall, nybar,
maybe you'd have more entertainment battlin' a brick wall
<basehead> figgas, niggas like you diss the library, cuz you diss the
knowledge that made me legendary... i got nooks of books of my
lyrical science, penned with quills of funk by my personal
monks
<Nybar> land on my back, you must want the hole--I clench like Mr. T,
take off your penis whole, throw a bomb at me, I'll catch it like
a star from the silent era--climb a building the next day, while
you be standing near-uh, elderly patient in an infirmary, while
your shit is in sitches--I told you before, I'm housing you, and
then stealing your bitches.
<basehead> copyin my shit by the candle light... don't bother puttin up a
fight cuz this shit is just TOOO DAMN TIGHT.
<Nybar> nooks and crannies, good for grannies, but if it's knowledge you
seek, just look at my brain--my shit runs deep, in spandrels,
canals, tunnels and axons; i'll play you like wax-on,
wax-off--you come robotic like g0ff, while i come
extemporaneously...
<basehead> I hear the words you sprayin but its all played out, i'm not
afraid of your sphincter or your imaginary clout
<Nybar> i'll flip a style from the free, you couldn't even step to me, i
don't need clout or height to rain down on an ant, i got breath
control while even over IRC you pant...
<basehead> Canals and Axons? i need to ask whatcha ass on.. cuz a
detective couldnt find clues to the meanings of that shit, not
even magnum.. P.I., you want a piece of the basehead pie? i'm
not surprised..
<Nybar> huh--now, lets review, in case you haven't heard: a canal is the
place we throw wack MCs, and then drop a turd, an axon is just a
nerve, that's inside of the brain--but obviously you ain't got
the mind, so why do i explain?
<basehead> sit your ass at my table as i make like jesus, pass out bread
and wine, and you can take my Tek-9.. framed Judas but you was
deceivin me, that you could come correct in a war of the
words, but the dictionary you drop is for the birds
<Nybar> for the birds like you, but it's obviously too heavy--my brain is
only eight pounds, and yet i flow like a levy--when it ain't dry,
like yours, you're slow: go eat a pie, and i'll pour another cup
of flow; oh wait, your plane went down--the music died, because i
killed your fucking sound.
<basehead> I grab my piece and then you walk the plank, makin you more
bitter than this wench named crank.. i make like bunuel,
droppin surreal shit, you get nicked like nolte, cuz you can't
hold to me, callin for your granny
<Nybar> bunuel? my shit is the latest and the last, i'm up to the task
every time that i blast, a spray so hot your flesh becomes
radioactive--you become non-stable, disabled, and then listed as
inactive
<basehead> to pick up the pieces that i left, most def, i got the maximum
strenf.. one hundred percent aimed at the dome.. nybar, i bend
you over and you can get the bone.. maybe my seed will be
planted, and grow to be enchanted, a doppelganger inside doin
my bidding, while i make a living gettin busy and droppin my
riddim
<AIDZZ> Don't you hate it when your itnernet girlfriend is having server
trouble?
<Nybar> you're about to get hurt, like a cat by an open window, not to be
curt, but your flow is simple like nintendo, 8 bits, while i only
spit 3d reality, so ill NYC put me on their salary, it's a
tragedy..doppelganger, because your shit is duplicated; I live to
infinity--my life's been elongated, sort of the opposite, as your
penis size, never even dare to look me in my eyes
<TanAdept> Poor cat!
<basehead> wait, before you have a go, shit is wack.. your flow is
parched, needs some h2o. pullin clips out my afro at a
maximum pace, my breath is mace, leave you black and blue in
your pig-like face..
<Nybar> i got so many flows, and yet i maintain...hard for me to battle
when you can only come on a 2d plane, and yet still stain your
undies when i spit it raw like Ted Bundy, i've got head bouncin'
around the world like "yo, we havin' fun, d"; H20? i make a
forest out of the sahara, you be on some vaginal shit like that
bitch Lara, Croft; this style I hold aloft when I'm flying--say
you got skills? punk, you lying or DREAMING, while i'm rhyme
scheming, and reacting instantenously, spontaneously, a perfect
flow to fit me like Lee-vi, why would you want to vye? i could
kill you in seconds but i'd rather stay mellow like chai--tea,
but i'll still spit my decree: i have rhyming supremacy--so don't
step to me!
<basehead> The 2d plane carries infinite points, of my wisdom, of
my rhythm, yeah i'm on point.. i'm all points, this station is
H.Q. Home for my bullet train dome.. rushin through the tracks
of styles you cant imagine, doin corkscrews through time
pickin up mad history..
<Nybar> housing every MC, rawer than beef the FDA didn't approve; it's
clear to see, you'll never fill my shoes
<Nybar> all points? i thought you were on one dimension; hey, didn't i
mention your shit belonged in detention? wrong answer again,
come with a train but i chop the fuckin' tracks, with a verbal
axe from my lyrical attacks; or like an earthquake that i shake
with verbal alacrity--come so fast you couldn't fuck with the
celerity
<basehead> I'm Grade A choice, in case you hadnt noticed, i light
up like Bic and you can catch this dick, cuz those lips is
yappin and flappin but your wisdom is sick.. needs an update,
eat up some Total, call me up tomorrow when this battle ain't
CAKE
<Nybar> yo, i think it's clear to see for all, that your style belongs in
the mall--along with N' Sync, i rip an underground party faster
than you blink, Grade A? that shit gets demolished--A++ here,
and you're failing college; Bic? that little girl took a lick of
my dick, yeah that's for sure: straight up, ain't no metaphor, or
simile, you can't fuck wit me, huh, Total, i prefer to be a
mic-noble, limber rhymes is mobile, so i eat a wack rapper like
you every day--that's an essential part of my RDA
<Nybar> we should end this now
<Nybar> I gotz ta go taz sleep!
<basehead> I'm sweet with the ladies, like vanilla, but i construct
scientific rhymes like Capsela.. you're a red necked fella,
need to watch and learn, cuz look at the ground around you,
shit is burning..
*** HOE READERS: NOW IT IS UP TO YOU TO VOTE WHO WON THIS IRC
BATTLE. MAIL MOGEL@HOE.NU OR NYBARIUS@HOTMAIL.COM--THE RESULTS WILL BE
TALLIED, AND POSTED IN THE NEXT NYBAR RELEASE! ***
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[ (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! HOE #973, BY NYBAR & BASEHEAD - 12/18/99 ]
