Who's it going to be...
Who's gonna spit fire?

Rummy (house of cards)
Vs
Juine (love isolation)

Let's go.


Rummy: I'ma smoke this cigarette and spit fire like a dragon,
Your role in love isolation is pretty sad man,
How do you expect everyone to understand,
That your story is pure madness,
You're living in a mad house filled chicks,
But you can't get none to suck your dick,
You're kidnapping women and making them sick,
Then your brother steals your shit?
Your story sucks as it is,
You call it the love isolation experiment,
But it's not making any sense,
It's all just in your mind,
You can't rewind,
All your time,
When you hallcinate,
Truths, Lies,
Hypnotize,
Hypothesize,
The experience that you create,
Mental, Psychotic,
The only thing you're missing are narcotics,
Your roles slowly become Episodic,
Alright, I'ma stop this,
Put my cigarette, And trash your story,
In the recycling bin, and I think I know who will win...

Juine: Damn, For someone coming so hard,
Why the hell is your story called a house of cards,
Like it's falling down, Burning everything all around,
Just like a broken heart,
Your story is soon to get discard,
Poker and Rummy sounds like An addiction,
But my story is very evil and sadistic,
And so is my mind, Turning twisted,
Surrounded by all these crazy bitches,
Hey, Bring over that one eyed chick,
Let me begin to experiment,
On her senses, Her senses,
Leaving her Demented,
Venting and bending,
Her to her mental limit,
Leave my readers in suspension,
Confusion can't be comprehensive,
My females, My bitches,
They're all becoming submissive,
Sorry, That's how my story is,
Now I'm ending it, Dismissive,
Yours seem like a drinking homeless gambler looking for redemption...

Who won?
Loser gets deleted
Winner gets completed

You decide.









© Inkdriesfasterthantears