TheMadWriter

Ran up in the bank, ski mask with one task/
Get the loot fast, feelin bad and brash/
M4 in my hand just finished the hash/
Bout to shoot a muthafucka, word to Steve Nash/
Crash, bitch just dropped a book again/
Lookin hella suspicious i'm just a crook my friend/
With a hook that bends, and a foot that ends/
With a stomp to the skull with no defense/
I yell shut the fuck up, crowd shivers as I deliver/
These words that merge like dead bodies with the rivers/
Jerk my M4 warn the bitch not to press the button/
I want that bread I want the cheese, i'm a fuckin glutton/
Appoint three niggas just to get my shit/
Flip my shit, bag up and zip my shit/
They follow instructions, money vanish like suctions/
Now they in the bag time to finish the deduction/
People layin down cryin while i'm gettin these millions/
The green makes my mind change like paper chameleons/
A billion one day, but my dreams a trillion/
This niggas bleedin now my shoes are covered in vermillion/
Get the fuck out! I'm yellin at the boys through the noise/
Sirens blarin they're all fuckin decoys/
I tell em give me the bag i'ma fall behind, I give em more instructions then the nigga does as assigned/
Told my homie I knew to peek out of the doorway, bring a hostage so that shit don't get gor-ay/
Tell em our stor-ay, make demands and some plans and maybe the assault will disband/
Maybe we can withstand, get cars all full of contraband/
Escape with money linked, drugs from the precinct/
Nigga started to believe me, dumb muthafucka/
I took my other homie told him 'run muthafucka'/
So out the back door over the brick walls that follow, shits is hollow, straight bricks like the lotto/
Homie gave me a boost crouched against the wall, i'm steppin on his hand while i'm climbin over the stall/
This bitch holds his hand out like 'homie don't leave me', believe me bitch you could never deceive me/
You won't get the chance nigga heaven ain't far, the skies the limit you could be a Notorious star/
But you can't in this life this is MY cookie jar, I gotta do what's right so understand i'm up to par/
Fire four shots, karma hates me seekin retribution/
Hands tremblin I think they faced electrocution, jerkin real tight as i'm trippin on the ground/
Tryin to fight, but i'm so clumsy i'm feelin homebound, pick up the bags fuck these fags/
Don't need em for shit, just get the fuckin money and split/
Other nigga out the door against the hood I heard it, metal poppin so loud the shit sounded inverted/
Now i'm runnin through the back gone like a mack, done with his girl who just got the sack/
Yeah i'm runnin back, till a cop steps in front of the alley, oh shit! they got me like DMX growling/
Drop the bag pull out my piece ready to beast/
At least I can make this tall nigga lil cease/
I pull the trigger firin blindly, not lookin behind me, damn I heard homie was climbing/
Fell onto the pavement not too far behind, rolled over I turned to see he was soon to die/
He stretched a scraped arm out, chrome in his palm/
Then the last thing I heard was a bang like a bomb...damn!

Lol! (I had to try one of these raps at least once)

Threyev

This was a good concept, but it's execution was a bit off. The flow was all over the place, and some of the lines (I'm thinking of the Steve Nash one) are pretty forced. In the beginning you're dropping like six or seven syllables per line, but by the end you're at like nineteen. I don't know what beat you're going to, but still.

The story was pretty good, I guess, if a bit cliched.

All in all, I think this is okay, but could use a revision or rethinking or something. Stay up, keep spitting.