RULE's 2 Bar Analysis
 

That mah fucka guts got me active for a minute, so this is how this goes.

Post 4 lines of a text verse you've written and i'll give you some feedback on it.

1/

@RULE do your magic

Dys is just like his dad. His L's (his cells) are multiPLYING A LOT. Saw the sick old man kicking a vending machine IRONIC, I THOUGHT it DENIED HIM A POP. I yelled "please stop kicking the cans, sir", he fuckin DIED ON THE SPOT!

Background: just before this battle dysfunctional revealed to me that his dad had cancer. It was a low blow but bars y'know.

An I laugh AT YOUR ABILITY 'cause anything "You Spell Out" ain't "CASTIN NO WIZARDRY"! I got straps for any CAT WHO BELITTLES ME, it's a FACT, YOU'LL BE HISTORY when I "Stand Tall & Wave The Heat" like the "STATUE OF LIBERTY"!!

- This one's from an audio battle, but oh well it translates over to text decently enough.

Had to tell you a few times that your WORDING'S QUITE ATROCIOUS, them scripts wouldn't be magical w/ MERLIN'S TYPE OF FOCUS!

Multi set was smooth, the actual line is a bit weird tho. You say your opponents wording is bad, then drop that odd worded second multi set. Merlins type of focus? Passable i guess but if you aiming for top tier this wording needs to be straight.

/ Guided dude, he told me 'quit the horseplay' then I saw the WORST DESIGNS APPROACHING cos I said 'into the belly of the beast' & he couldn't WORK IT LIKE A TROJAN!

Similar to the previous bar the wording is a bit unnatural. the non-capped build is very longer and wordy to me too, feels like you stretched the build to include the horse-play reference. Could of been cleaner and shorter. The concept it good, but the execution wasnt strong. I think the punch could of been better. Work it like a trojan. Many more creative / impactful ways to land the punch.

just curious,


We thought he’d turn down this callout, run aWAY N RETIRE ‘Now He Gon Get This Work, Thank God’ as if he PRAYED TA GET HIRED! 6 defenses with no ‘Burn Out’; think youre TAKIN IT HIGHER? watch ya old-puns-fa-Row ‘Go Up In Smoke’ coz now youre ‘PLAYING WIT FIRE’!

background : called rai out for lbt title

Dys is just like his dad. His L's (his cells) are multiPLYING A LOT.

In my accent (or any i put on to try and make this work) i cannot find the SELL sound needed for the wordplay to work. Only sounds like: His Els. So straight away the bars in trouble.

Saw the sick old man kicking a vending machine IRONIC, I THOUGHT it DENIED HIM A POP. I yelled "please stop kicking the cans, sir", he fuckin DIED ON THE SPOT!

This is a perfect mix of a played concept, played wordplay, but good execution. Even though ive heard a million cancer / can sir wordplays the execution was very funny. The bar is very wordy so be aware of that in future. The humour is what pulle dthis off. Honestly this shouldnt of worked but props lol.

---------- Post added at 10:35 PM ---------- Previous post was at 10:29 PM ----------


An I laugh AT YOUR ABILITY 'cause anything "You Spell Out" ain't "CASTIN NO WIZARDRY"! I got straps for any CAT WHO BELITTLES ME, it's a FACT, YOU'LL BE HISTORY when I "Stand Tall & Wave The Heat" like the "STATUE OF LIBERTY"!!

You can tell this is an audio bar cuz the flow is slick but is a bit fillerish for a text bar.

An I laugh AT YOUR ABILITY 'cause anything "You Spell Out" ain't "CASTIN NO WIZARDRY"!

an ok start, not sure it adds anything other than the fact that it rhymes.

I got straps for any CAT WHO BELITTLES ME, it's a FACT, YOU'LL BE HISTORY

Same feed as previous line, even though the flow if nice to me its just filler that could of been used for another punch.

when I "Stand Tall & Wave The Heat" like the "STATUE OF LIBERTY"!!

decent punch. but only decent. techincally the statue doesnt wave but i can let that slide. To me its more of a filler punch than a proper punch.

yo dawg i kno you said jus 2 bars to post for da feed but frawsty da new nigga on da scene ya feel me and i was thinkin he need dat extra help an shit so i post some of da lines homies be mentionin in da votes ya kno what i mean maybe just skim dat shit or summit an hit me back preciate it man

this a hate crime wit da black on black when i put dat GLOCK TO OLD CROW an leave dis nigga unda da blankets an i aint TALKIN BOUT SNOW / nigga you talkin bout chinese shoes an shit but look i AINT HAVE DA FEET frawsty send a flurry ah rounds to wet ya an SLAY MANS WIT SLEET / imma son ya fool aint no doubt im jus YOUR MOMS TYPE ill smoke this nigga den put rounds to ya mouth like a CORN COB PIPE / im a fuckin snowman nigga so whys you da one LOOKIN SO COLD no rigamortis cuz deez rounds got you more SHOOK THAN SNOW GLOBES / cuz when it comes to rounds they sugar cookies to me i can THROW DOZENS put three on ya chest in a line til it look like we got matchin COAL BUTTONS / no meltin when i blast burners SO HOT THAT I POP THAT and put so many rounds on ya head niggas gon think ya BORROWED MA TOP HAT / cuz look tonight da snow runs red wit ya blood nigga THIS DISS GORY you gonna getyo tongue ripped out when it freeze ta my pole like CHRISTMAS STORY / yo verse gonna get punched in da gut i CALL IT A WAIST/WASTE even doubled over it aint half as good as mine so take deez snow BALLS IN YA FACE / nigga i got sticks for arms but ya get hit wit da CROSS RIGHT INNIT FAST cuz once i lay yo out in da snow ... ya getting 8 inches of da FRAWST BITE IN YA ASS /

^ lmfao guy

I can agree with this, thanks for your input.

No problem. The fact that it is an audio bar makes a big difference though. Flow is more valuable to an audio, so its not really a fair comparison. But i hope the feed helps anyway.

1/

Thanks for the feed bro

We thought he’d turn down this callout, run aWAY N RETIRE ‘Now He Gon Get This Work, Thank God’ as if he PRAYED TA GET HIRED!

Decent set-up, flows nice, decent jab.

6 defenses with no ‘Burn Out’; think youre TAKIN IT HIGHER?

Wording on the set-up seems strange to me. Maybe i dont get the slang. 6 defenses with no burn out? you mean like 6 defense with no clear victory? The wording is too unnatural and hurts the bar imo. More than the fire reference helps.

watch ya old-puns-fa-Row ‘Go Up In Smoke’ coz now youre ‘PLAYING WIT FIRE’!

Bit of a soft punch. playing with fire as a punch is pretty basic. Feel like the first line was the hardest of the bar which is should never be really.

1/

---------- Post added at 10:47 PM ---------- Previous post was at 10:43 PM ----------

Frosty you sumamabitch lol.

nigga i got sticks for arms but ya get hit wit da CROSS RIGHT INNIT FAST cuz once i lay yo out in da snow ... ya getting 8 inches of da FRAWST BITE IN YA ASS /

Cant lie this is funny as fuck lol

burnout is a state of exhaustion: physical, emotional, (in this case, writing).

but yea you pretty much agreed with my assessment, thanks yo. this is dope

thanks dawg

you think you wanna tangle with guts, THEN TEST MINE ya get 'coiled and stuffed' like an INTESTINE ya 'lines is rather shallow' so i'm not afraid of A 'PENDICKS' VERSE and the only time he 'ruptured with a sac' is if his APPENDIX BURST

---------- Post added at 07:00 PM ---------- Previous post was at 06:55 PM ----------

also gonna cheat and post a few more. sorry for cheating.

your 'text is ancient' like Mesopotamian CUNIFORMS WROTE so i'm Gilgamesh and YOU KNEE FOR A G.O.A.T his SWAG IS GONE, the FAGGOT SCUM, if he 'carried weight with words like a stone' it was relics ya SALVAGE FROM BABYLON and you gonna 'conquer my legion?' but ya FAILED n PLAN WAS SLOPPY cause the only time he 'grasped at victory' was reading TALES of HAMMURABI


if he a 'warrior type, he snaked himself in' like KEVIN DURANT and the only time he 'present bars of greatness' is biting from REVAN OR RANT


these 'kids sit with lids dim' ya whole crew is a POSSE OF ERROR couple peas of a pod that 'stick a round' sayin yo DROP ME A FAIR but known to 'rattle from the tension' like they COPY A SNARE so if they 'snap when i'm roasting' they PROBABLY AWARE when the 'mug gets the black bruise(brews), my flow is hot n fresh' like COFFEE PREPARED(edited)

gutz like "If I posted a 64 line battle, but put a space every time two bars have passed, that counts right?"

6 i was trying to think of a wittier response but you beat me to it lol

lmao. but i get to cheat. just because.

gutz would have done well in Murda Muzik.

LOOOOL

LOL will hit up the rest tomorrow!

*Never comes back*

lmfaooo


and way ta go guts and frosty, he aint comin back

RULE rate my verse please.



If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is
where I was born, an what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were
occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I
don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth. In the first place, that stuff
bores me, and in the second place, my parents would have about two hemorrhages apiece
if I told anything pretty personal about them. They're quite touchy about anything like
that, especially my father. They're nice and all--I'm not saying that--but they're also
touchy as hell. Besides, I'm not going to tell you my whole goddam autobiography or
anything. I'll just tell you about this madman stuff that happened to me around last
Christmas just before I got pretty run-down and had to come out here and take it easy. I
mean that's all I told D.B. about, and he's my brother and all. He's in Hollywood. That
isn't too far from this crumby place, and he comes over and visits me practically every
week end. He's going to drive me home when I go home next month maybe. He just got a
Jaguar. One of those little English jobs that can do around two hundred miles an hour. It
cost him damn near four thousand bucks. He's got a lot of dough, now. He didn't use to.
He used to be just a regular writer, when he was home. He wrote this terrific book of
short stories, The Secret Goldfish, in case you never heard of him. The best one in it was
"The Secret Goldfish." It was about this little kid that wouldn't let anybody look at his
goldfish because he'd bought it with his own money. It killed me. Now he's out in
Hollywood, D.B., being a prostitute. If there's one thing I hate, it's the movies. Don't even
mention them to me.
Where I want to start telling is the day I left Pencey Prep. Pencey Prep is this
school that's in Agerstown, Pennsylvania. You probably heard of it. You've probably seen
the ads, anyway. They advertise in about a thousand magazines, always showing some
hotshot guy on a horse jumping over a fence. Like as if all you ever did at Pencey was
play polo all the time. I never even once saw a horse anywhere near the place. And
underneath the guy on the horse's picture, it always says: "Since 1888 we have been
molding boys into splendid, clear-thinking young men." Strictly for the birds. They don't
do any damn more molding at Pencey than they do at any other school. And I didn't know
anybody there that was splendid and clear-thinking and all. Maybe two guys. If that
many. And they probably came to Pencey that way.
Anyway, it was the Saturday of the football game with Saxon Hall. The game
with Saxon Hall was supposed to be a very big deal around Pencey. It was the last game
of the year, and you were supposed to commit suicide or something if old Pencey didn't
win. I remember around three o'clock that afternoon I was standing way the hell up on
top of Thomsen Hill, right next to this crazy cannon that was in the Revolutionary War
and all. You could see the whole field from there, and you could see the two teams
bashing each other all over the place. You couldn't see the grandstand too hot, but you
could hear them all yelling, deep and terrific on the Pencey side, because practically the
whole school except me was there, and scrawny and faggy on the Saxon Hall side,
because the visiting team hardly ever brought many people with them.
There were never many girls at all at the football games. Only seniors were
allowed to bring girls with them. It was a terrible school, no matter how you looked at it.
I like to be somewhere at least where you can see a few girls around once in a while, even
if they're only scratching their arms or blowing their noses or even just giggling or
something. Old Selma Thurmer--she was the headmaster's daughter--showed up at the
games quite often, but she wasn't exactly the type that drove you mad with desire. She
was a pretty nice girl, though. I sat next to her once in the bus from Agerstown and we
sort of struck up a conversation. I liked her. She had a big nose and her nails were all
bitten down and bleedy-looking and she had on those damn falsies that point all over the
place, but you felt sort of sorry for her. What I liked about her, she didn't give you a lot of
horse manure about what a great guy her father was. She probably knew what a phony
slob he was.
The reason I was standing way up on Thomsen Hill, instead of down at the game,
was because I'd just got back from New York with the fencing team. I was the goddam
manager of the fencing team. Very big deal. We'd gone in to New York that morning for
this fencing meet with McBurney School. Only, we didn't have the meet. I left all the
foils and equipment and stuff on the goddam subway. It wasn't all my fault. I had to keep
getting up to look at this map, so we'd know where to get off. So we got back to Pencey
around two-thirty instead of around dinnertime. The whole team ostracized me the whole
way back on the train. It was pretty funny, in a way.
The other reason I wasn't down at the game was because I was on my way to say
good-by to old Spencer, my history teacher. He had the grippe, and I figured I probably
wouldn't see him again till Christmas vacation started. He wrote me this note saying he
wanted to see me before I went home. He knew I wasn't coming back to Pencey.
I forgot to tell you about that. They kicked me out. I wasn't supposed to come
back after Christmas vacation on account of I was flunking four subjects and not applying
myself and all. They gave me frequent warning to start applying myself--especially
around midterms, when my parents came up for a conference with old Thurmer--but I
didn't do it. So I got the ax. They give guys the ax quite frequently at Pencey. It has a
very good academic rating, Pencey. It really does.
Anyway, it was December and all, and it was cold as a witch's teat, especially on
top of that stupid hill. I only had on my reversible and no gloves or anything. The week
before that, somebody'd stolen my camel's-hair coat right out of my room, with my furlined gloves right in the pocket and all. Pencey was full of crooks. Quite a few guys came
from these very wealthy families, but it was full of crooks anyway. The more expensive a
school is, the more crooks it has--I'm not kidding. Anyway, I kept standing next to that
crazy cannon, looking down at the game and freezing my ass off. Only, I wasn't watching
the game too much. What I was really hanging around for, I was trying to feel some kind
of a good-by. I mean I've left schools and places I didn't even know I was leaving them. I
hate that. I don't care if it's a sad good-by or a bad goodby, but when I leave a place I like
to know I'm leaving it. If you don't, you feel even worse.
I was lucky. All of a sudden I thought of something that helped make me know I
was getting the hell out. I suddenly remembered this time, in around October, that I and
Robert Tichener and Paul Campbell were chucking a football around, in front of the
academic building. They were nice guys, especially Tichener. It was just before dinner
and it was getting pretty dark out, but we kept chucking the ball around anyway. It kept
getting darker and darker, and we could hardly see the ball any more, but we didn't want
to stop doing what we were doing. Finally we had to. This teacher that taught biology,
Mr. Zambesi, stuck his head out of this window in the academic building and told us to
go back to the dorm and get ready for dinner. If I get a chance to remember that kind of
stuff, I can get a good-by when I need one--at least, most of the time I can. As soon as I
got it, I turned around and started running down the other side of the hill, toward old
Spencer's house. He didn't live on the campus. He lived on Anthony Wayne Avenue.
I ran all the way to the main gate, and then I waited a second till I got my breath. I
have no wind, if you want to know the truth. I'm quite a heavy smoker, for one thing--that
is, I used to be. They made me cut it out. Another thing, I grew six and a half inches last
year. That's also how I practically got t.b. and came out here for all these goddam
checkups and stuff. I'm pretty healthy, though.

It's been destined since your birth that you would lose to me! JUST CHECK THE ASTROLOGICAL SIGNS!!! That's like you wrote a righteous bank order slip on the bottom of your girl, Trowe, which was related to wooden places of residence as well as removing the inferior specimens from a sample and trigonometric functions! "JUST CHECK: THE ASS TROWE: LODGE-IC CULL SINES!!!" (SLOW IT DOWN!!!!!!!!)