Adventures: Battle or Bus Pt. 3 - Crooked Embarrasment

As told by Fed....

Hype to Vans, I can't believe this guy is ready to go. Hold on... I guess Mr. I is about to strike when out of nowhere the announcer come back on:

AIGHT YA'LL MUFUCKAZ!!! WE GON DO IT A LITTLE DIFFERENT THIS ROUND!!! THESE NIGGAZ GON GO FOR 32 IN 4X8 ROUNDS!!! EACH ARTIST'S 8BARS BACK TO BACK AFTER THE OTHER UNTIL IT'S OVER. YOU HEARD ME, NIGGA!!! CROOK GO 8, FED GO 8 AND YA DON'T STOOOOOOOOOOOOP!!! NO STOPPIN, NO FLINCHIN!!! LET'S GO!!!

Aight... that's a real nice switch... Besides.. it's more fun that way.

"So what you waiting for, playboy?" I jeer at Crook.
"I'm just savoring this moment... I'm coming back after this one," he responds.
"That's some inspiring shit, nigga. Homo, but inspiring. Shut up and go."

Crooked I/Federal Ranga

This is Crook's house now and you about to get slaughtered
I would son this nigga, but he's more like my daughter
You're way out of order. Out of time. Go to sleep
Little boy. Crooked I is Cronos on beats
And my flow so heat I burn Lincoln's Cabin
As for talent? I don't know what makes you think you have it
My skill? Can't match it. I guess you one of those guys
Who doesn't know spitting garbage is a filthy habit
No Vans on, but you still getting rolled on
Fuck a Slaughterhouse that's been forclosed on
You another hasbeen that just can't sell
So believe it when I say, "Crooked I's taking a STRAIGHT L"
Ya man Buddens is looking for someone to call out
Royce ain't been the same since him and Em had a fallout
The only cool one in ya shit is Ortiz
And he know what it was last time he saw me

Suddenly the beat switches to E-40's "Automatic"

My flow smoother than the moves of Lil Tight Eyez
See, I was playing with you Fed. Now it's no more Mr. Nice Guy
No more bullshit. That ain't what I came here to do
I gotta eat you. I was taught not to play with my food
And I'm straight in the mood to do you all kinda ways
Insomianc type flow. I do this night and day
You can see it in my face, I'm not the one to get heated
I body bag rappers. No toe tags needed
My nigga, you about to piss myself with this hilarity
This battle is favor, bitch. I'm well known for charity
Who you gonna body bag with that average verse?
I'd kill your career. But you'd have to have one first
Church! Oh, my bad. I meant to say Chuuuch!
This West Coast bias shit ain't helping you as a crutch
I'll school you to the game, bitch. I'll set you up for classes
I'm more than meets the eye. You couldn't see me with my glasses

Then the beat switches to Fresh 83' by the Game & 50 Cent? Man, I swear this battle started to get personal.

I swear this nigga think I'm a joke when I'm rappin
He must've forgot that people die laughing
Nigga, I fathered ya style. I technically invented you
I am the prototype. I do what you pretend to do
Nobody's into you. So why you acting all manish?
What its like to always be known as Tony Grand$ bitch?
Fuck you. Give me mills. Crook say what he really feel
You Milli Vanilli lil nigga that's your Achille's Heal
See you done fucked up now. Aye, this bitch gotta go
Grand$ my nigga. But Fed ain't ever dick rode a soul
Yeah I'm part of the Commission!!! Got power you couldn't fathom
Cuz I spit the kinda heat scientists use to split atoms
So with all due respect where respect is due
I can respectfully say I have no respect for you
You can't jump with me, bitch. You lost from the tip off
This a call off, you ain't fall off. You slipped off

The beat switches one last time... It couldn't be more perfect. Still D.R.E. by the Good Doctor

You stuck on your high horse. I'll take you down a step
Just by showing up, you served and clowned yaself
Shit. If I were you, I would break quick nigga
I don't discriminate. I hate bitch niggaz!
I see that look in your eye. You wanna punch me in the face
Go ahead. Swing. It'll be the last punch you'll ever take
Don't be surprised. I'm just so fuckin comfy in my space
You so far behind. You should feel lucky that you raced
See, Crook. You don't know me. I'll show you a surprise
I slice and dice rappers. Plus make Julian Fries
The skill you speak of, you lack to compete
So do a Mayweather and battle who you can actually beat
Back to defeat goes you. I'm back on my feet
I been crack. To spit that, bitch, you have to be heat
Their ain't no one on my level cuz I blew right past others
So call me Mario. Cuz I just SUPER SMASHED BROTHERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

The force of my last punchline incited a fuckin riot, man... Before this nigga could even reach out to try to shake my hand for good sport, he was snatched back into the crowd screaming, "I failed you!!!" or some shit. Wonder what the fuck he was talking about?

"G-G-G-G-G-G-UNOT!!!" comes a voice from the background.
"Aww, man... you've gotta be joking."
"You going down, nigga. Is Compton in this bitch?!" Game screams out to a roar from the crowd.
"What the fuck are YOU doing here? Last I heard you doing like 50 to life for impersonating an MC."
"That's none of ya fuckin business, bitch," he snaps taking off his NWA chain. "Let's just say somebody did me a favor and I'm about to return it."
"Fuck... lets do it. I'm sick of all this bullshit. The fuck is Kurupt when you need him?"

Don't go nowhere... the battle gets ugly.

Adventures: Wacknificent Scandals

In an undisclosed cave somewhere in the middle of Stone Mountain, Georgia a group of men sit with evil looks on their faces...


They are the Wacknificent League of Doom.


They plot to takeover the Newnited States of Rap with their catchy hooks, autotuned voices, retarded dance crazes, technicolored insane jewelry and 3rd Grade lyricism. They are the collective of Soulja Boy, Gucci Mane, OJ Da Juiceman, The New Boyz, Bow Wow, Yung Berg, Plies, Rick Ross and the entire Young Money roster.


A woman walks around a huge board room table to a wall in the cave as all the rappers turn their attention towards her. The room goes silent she presses a button on the wall and a giant flat panel TV rises from a hidden compartment.


"Where the fuck is Weezy? That swaggerless mungkey... Always fuckin late. Not like the Bossssssss," Ross lets out frustrated.
"Brrrr...," exclaims OJ. "Mayne, it's cold as fuck in here. Who dumbazz thawt it wussa gud idere to put a fuckin boardroom in Stone Mownten?"
"Aye, ya'll shut the fuck up...," an impatient Gudda Gudda lets out.
"I'm Mack Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaine!!!" screams out Mack.
"Is that all you ever say?" Soulja Boy shoots.
"Well.... yeah, I guess. I've been having problems wi-," Mack replied.
"Nigga, I ain't talking to you... I'm on Twitter, stupid," said SB, cutting off Mack.


"EH EH UH EUH EEEEEWWWHHHHHEUUUUUEH," an autotuned screech came from the TV. It was Wayne. He'd become the leader of this League.
"Finally," Drake said with a smirk."What took you so long?"
"Nunya business. I'm the animal. The shi-"
"The shit. The best rapper alive. Weezy F. Baby. Young Carter and all that... blah blah blah... will you get ON with it already? I know it's colder in Canada, but damn... I'on wanna be in this bitch forever."
"Aight. You know I love you."


Everybody in the room raised their eyebrows to this statement.


"Anyways," Weezy restarted "If you'll redirect your attention to the split screen, you'll see everything is going according to plan. Federal Ranga has already been caught in our trap and is battling for his flight to New York. He's disposed of Nipsey as expected, but I've set up his next opponent to be Crooked I."
"AYE! Mayne, how da hell you staht speekin so gud?" a confused Juiceman asks.
"I DID go to college, remember. I'm not as dumb as I am ugly, aight? Now pay attention. Crook-"
"Wait," interrupts Omarion. "How'd you get Crooked I to battle Fed?"
"Easy. I told him that I'd sign him to Young Money when he wins."
"Good idea, nigga. YAH!" spits SB believe Wayne's BS.
"But hold, boss," Jae Millz chimes in. "Nigga, I know lyrics. What if Crook loses? I mean, Fed ain't no joke."
"It matters not," Weezy insists. "Even IF he gets past him. There's no way he can defeat who I hand selected next. Observe." The TV screen shows Fed's next opponent and the room goes wild.
"Nigguh, u a genies," says Gucci.
"I know... I know... settle down. Everybody knows what to do. So for now... just sit back-" Wayne is cut off as the TV screen goes down and off. He steps out in physical form into the room with a cigar. "And enjoy the show."


Wayne and the League all begin to laugh maniacally as they all turn to watch the Crooked I battle.


"Says your prayers, bitch. You'll never make it to New York as long I breathe," seethes a pissed off Weezy.