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The Role Model


...You Already Know...

A wise man once told me don't argue with fools
Because people from a distance, can't tell who is who
So stop with that childish shit, nigga I'm grown
Please leave it alone don't throw rocks at the thrown
-Jay Z 'Takeover'

[If Jimmy Luciano spits out one more fucking Similie, I'm going to officially turn this into freestyle friday. It was cute at first, but now it's getting down right ridiculous. I'm not one to talk because I use the battle rap technique as well, but son of a bitch. Punchline after punchline. Metaphor after metaphor. I'm feeling like this is 8 mile or some shit. Oh well, these niggas say that I cut promos like I'm battle rapping. I ain't changing my style for nobody...]

[Here we go, the scene slowly fades into a run down building in downtown Cincinatti right behind the Home Depot. We slowly pan in as we see an enormous crowd on hand. We then pan our cameras up toward the stage where we see a battle of some sort taking place. The audio kicks in, and we hear the sounds of the freestyling legend Loo Chee, the native from Cincy is undefeated on the freestyling circuit. We see him utterly dominating some poor black man as the crowd goes crazy with every puchline.

Loo Chee: This is why I catch hype like Terrell Owens catches a pass from Donavon McNabb.

Crowd: OHHHHHHHHH! *when realistically that shit was pitiful* OHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

Loo Chee: Even Kurt Stone and Jason Hartnell attempted to pull off Face Off like they were John Travolta and Nicholas Cage.

Crowd: OHHHHHHHHH! *who is that?* OHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

Loo Chee: The well oiled machine that is politics has Kalis changing his style just like his skin color.

Crowd: OHHHHHHHHH! *...* OHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

[The battle ends as Loo Chee looks out to the fans, and asks "Who's next?" Suddenly a man steps up by the name of Ess Jay. The legendary lyricist from the south.]

Loo Chee: You want it?

Ess Jay: You guys don't want it with Ess Jay... Ask... *errrr* Whats up then son?

Loo Chee: Nah, first you gotta beat my nigga Tyrone Cox...



[We then hear the "Lose Yourself" beat begin to play as the King himself Ess Jay steps to the mic.]

Tyrone, I think you were a little hard on the white beaver
I own 14 heat seekers, rhymes blow speakers while u fallin off like Gail Deavers
This guy keeps creamin', he's green and paranoid!
Quick, someone get his ass another altoid!
"Blahbity bloo blah blah blahbity bloo blah!"
Resembles his gay ass orgasming, "hipidy hooblah
Is that a ppv critique, or a new persona?
Look, stop calling me! I'll break your Motorolla.
Is that a tank top, or a new bra?
Look, stop asking dudes for a fucking lube job.
Didn't you listen to the last round, skin head?
Pay attention, you're sayin the same shit that he said! *points to Kevin Jones poster*
Matter fact, dog, here's a pencil
Go home, critique some shit, stab ya self with kitchen utensil
And don't come back until something like the first name of BANKS hits you
F**k it! You can take the MIKE home with you!
Lookin' like a sawed off split you
Lacey pink thong screamin', "Tyrone, I'm not supposed to fit you!"
You see how far those black jokes get you
Boy's like "How you gon' let the OH OH CEE King get you?"
Your motto: Fuck dicks as big as avacados!
I'll get pushed to the next round for nothin' tomorrow!

[The crowd goes crazy as an angry Tyrone Cox walks off the stage to the comfort of some white girls...]

Ess Jay: You guys don't want it with Ess Jay... Ask... *errrr* Whats up then son?



Yo... Yo...
Now everybody from Cincy
Put your muthafuckin' hands up and scream fuck Carey
Everybody from Cincy
Put your muthaf**kin' hands up
Look... Look...

The dude spits like his tough
But notice that this man in a group of dudes and only had his dick up
The IW comeback has got you gassed up
Now who's afraid of the big bad wolf
1, 2, 3 and to the 4
1 Pac, 2 Pac, 3 Pac, 4
4 Pac, 3 Pac, 2 Pac, 1
Kalis' Pac, Apoc's Em, you're a faggot SON!
This guy aint fuckin' legendary
I know everything he's got to say against me
I am a hall of famer
I so say shit thats outta line
But at least I spit different shit each time
My boy AVI is an Uncle Tom
And I do got a friend named Mr. Grinch
Who blew his title shot then QUIT THIS BITCH
And Carey did git humped by all 3 leading chumps
And I did turn out your girl
So why you still standing around screaming I OWN an artificial world.
Don't ever try to diss me dude
You don't know how many wrestlers I RIPPED through
But I know something about you
You skipped lunch period to cut promos at school
What's the matter dawg? You embarrassed?
This guy's a gangsta? he jobs to Jeff Harris
And Harris lives at home and his boyfriend's named Terrence
And my dick and moms lips have a real good marriage
This guy don't wanna battle he shook
Koz there aint no such thang as wrestling CROOKS
He's scared to death
He's scared to look
At his fuckin how to cut a promo book, ESS JAY all it took!

F**k ah beat i go acapella
F**k a Tyrone Cox, suck my cock, fuck a tournament, fuck everybody
Fuck ya'll if you don't like me
I'll spit some Oh Oh Cee shit, i say it proudly
And fuck this battle
I don't wanna win
I'm outty
Now tell these people something dont already know about me

[Loo Chee then sprints off the stage in tears... He is comforted by Ess Kay. Scene fades out.]

King Jackio: I told ya'll faggots I was the King.

King Jackio: Ya know, in retrospect... Maybe I really haven't lived up to my name. Maybe I haven't been the 'legend' that many consider me to be. Maybe I haven't revolutionized the game. Maybe I haven't paved the way for the Memphis Gray's, the Dude Jobs, the Kyle Broadways, the Skitzos... Because without me, my sweaty sicilian friend... There would be no IW. There would be no I-TV. There would be no "return of Jimmy Luciano" I have solidifed myself as one of the greatest to ever do it, because I didn't just perform inside the ring. I performed outside the ring, and in bed with your greasey bitch. Your return was predicatable, and it has done absolutely nothing for the game. Hell, Ranma seems like he's on a spiritual retreat like Ricky Williams. This has got to be the biggest disgrace to wrestling come backs, since... well... where do we start? Everyone... Tell your friend Sycho Kid to quit riding off your last name, and quit being your yes man.

C'mon... we're not here to talk about Luci's miserable return. We're here to talk about my match with Tyrone Cox. Lemme get this straight, from what i understand... Tyrone Cox, I knew very little about you. So I went to the WWC film- room in search of your last promo. To my amazement... It wasn't there. I wonder why, maybe someone is attempting to dodge the preverbial beating. Meh, it doesn't matter.

This faggot just got sonned. Now stay the fuck off my dick. I got nothin' left to say.






The Role Model