My evolution?

okay, i started rapping when i was 7th grade. when i was looking through one of my composition books, i saw one of the first raps that i ever made. i sucks so bad that i had to show an excerpt of it to you guys.

Now she jumps in the car
The go and drink alot at te bar
Then after they go to his place
He took off his pants to give her a taste
After all adult scene, she got her money
But all of a sudden, she feels something funny
She doesn't care anysay
Cause she feels really gay
That she has enough to take care her child
She goes happy and wild
When she goes to her next customer, she doesn't know
That the police will show
The police swarm her to make the arrest
They force her to go to the jail and have
an Aids test just in case for her faith

Now lets go ahead two years later. through two years of experience, i came from the crappy lyrics above to the lyrics below. i hope you like how my lyrical skills evolve.

It's crunch time, having every minute to bunch rhymes
Knocking out mcs with my powerful punch lines
I live in the background, having a discreet life
But I have a sweet life with a background of a streetlight
Being like a mosquito, injecting toxic juices
To leave a mark on people with their exotic bruises
And being strong, I'm here blastin' strong bears
With the fist on the mic and Sampson's long hair
I'm making cold mc go to diabetic mode
They can't get electrified to life even with electric poles
Just making cash flow, exciting like Ali's last blow
While others are boring. It's like watching grass grow
Plus your full or crap cause your organs bleeding through
By the way i sew your butt and kept feeding you
And by seeing your head, your mic device is hesitant
Cause i shot words to your brain like the vice president
You see I'm a gentlemen who's crazy making mental bend
That uses his essential pen to confuse simpletons
Into a spiral, shutting their computer with virals
And blowing up their mind with a cycle of sick pyros
Being an electrifying creator like Thomas Edison
Giving this bass to specimen who eating it like medicine
I'm just mad malicious, sadistic
Blowing up the scene with a vicious ballistic
In the mic, I'm god but I have a horrible side
I can't freestyle, it's needed to have an immortal mind
I just forget, seem fake, can't get the cake
I can't blow it up or even detonate
Having so much breaking points in joints, this is one facture
Then when I hold mics, my hand seem to fracture
That's why I don't want my hand to shake in the air
This is Blake, thinking dumb by scratching flakes in his hair

its betta keep workin on it

Sorry. i don't like either of 'em very much. I do see an evolution from weak to alright-but-not-so-cool. Sometimes I just feel like you're stretching for a punch line.

this is weird...