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This is for all the mad beef you can only settle through ill verbage. I'll start us off with some exerpts from a brief conversation with Shamrock...
(keep in mind these were all made up on the fly)




Shamrock: haha nightshade you love my rhymes
JNightshade: hell yeah I do
JNightshade: like tigger loves pooh
JNightshade: But remember, you ain't the only one with some phat rhymes in your pocket: my mad abstract schemes make you give up and let me rock it

JNightshade: I push my literature on the streets and spread illumination
JNightshade: throughout the nation
JNightshade: your "hip hop" is masturbation
JNightshade: so shut the f*ck up you dirty haitian

Shamrock: hahahaha
Shamrock: i like that last one
JNightshade: I figured you would
Shamrock: well you figured correctly good sir
JNightshade: that's good to hear
JNightshade: the ladies cheer
JNightshade: as my mad rhymes go down like Everclear
JNightshade: they make you sick, they make you vomit
JNightshade: cause after me you know you'll bomb it

(later, talking about Everclear)
JNightshade: smells like rubbing alcohol, tastes like death
JNightshade: after you drink it, other people be gettin' crunk off yo breath


now someone else go!