The Third Week of Board 8 RAP BATTLE: tha LEAGUE Tournament.
Battle 36: Dilated Chemist v. Princess AnriEdit
I'm the spawn of God's wrath, raw and unmasked to slaughter this young sass.
Anri, the one who couldn't spit dope **** after lickin' Tommy Chong's ass!
I'll tame this lame dame - this brainless wang couldn't be sane to claim.
Alias defines character? That's strange of thangs - Anri, just change your name!
My lyrical slickness will make this fake princess cease breathin'.
Cause Anri has *** sex, eats semen and has an AIDs test each weekend!
I'll have your rows of devotion destroyed by my fists strongest motion.
My every bar is potent while your flow is as hot as the Arctic Ocean!
DC the King, the closest thing to royalty that you would be is a queen draggin'.
Ya feel me? My punches land deep like I'm droppin' you off the Grand Canyon!
I can honestly say it's tricky battlin' a crossdressin' heathen.
But I could still beat your best verse with the rhymes I'm deletin'.
That's it, Dee? I must admit: that's an easy act to follow.
Looks like you forgot how to spit and learned how to swallow.
It only took me two rounds to bring you all to your knees.
Slicin' through the competition like a doctor through disease.
A prin-cess from the Midwest. Who would have guessed?
No less than the best. As for the rest? I'm unimpressed.
This mess ain't a contest. You guys belong on EverQuest.
Never seen a woman's chest. Not even your mom's breast.
I'm the best rapper in the galaxy. Everybody backs me.
Your rhymes are a fallacy. You're mixin' up your facts, see.
Don't worry 'bout the fee. Your execution will be tax free.
I'm on a killin' spree. Cut your head off with my axe, Dee.
You spittin' fiction so let me start with the most basic of facts.
For one you can't rap - Anri, don't fake it just face it you're whack!
Just don't come back cause I really slaughter and tame words.
With a style so fierce I could beat you twice... with the same verse!
My punchlines intertwine effortlessly like vicious verbal chemistry.
Look, I destroyed you with half my rap - I think you should protest for three!
If you're not yet insured I encourage rhymes and word medical.
Cause I've burnt several - battle rappers, vets and war generals!
Best rapper in the galaxy? No see, cause this is my universe, P.
Yes mine, I murdered your line and your entire lame ass rhyme scheme!
I'll have you studyin' my **** cause unlike yours my 'flow' is legit.
Here, I'll 'skeet skeet' in your mouth so you have somethin' to spit!
Well, a black guy thinks the Chemist won. Time for me to leave.
Hell, that guy's my apprentice, son. Are you really that naive?
Dee Cee, you got no chance with me. Don't even try to dance with me.
Everybody chants for me. Got the girls creamin' their pants for me.
Just one glance at me and they flashin' their implants at me.
Got 'em in a trance, you see. Can't get enough romance from me.
Dee's gotta pay for the girls he gets--they still ain't much.
Girls always tellin' him: "You can look but don't touch."
I'm like Jordan in the finals. Comin' through in the clutch.
You're Romo in the playoffs. Standin' on your last crutch.
Dee, you left it wide open. I saw my chance and took it.
I'm shootin' for the hat trick. Going three and oh. Book it.
Battle 37: AlecTrevelyan006 v. CountCrazy007Edit
This is Alec checkin’ in, to get this rap on track
After throwing that last match, it’s time to bring it back
This shouldn’t be too hard, as to me you’re just a thorn
Here comes the recrowned king, to return like Aragorn
My rhymes are silky smooth, my speech is silver-tongued
You halt more than Vader, with his burned up lungs
I could rap like this forever, always stinging like a bee
With every single thing I say a perfect soliloquy
I know that to some people, this might seem hyperbole
But if you doubt my style, then hey, just wait and see
My words will do the talking, of that you can be sure
The second I stop rapping, you’ll be begging me for more
Battle 38: nintendogirl1 v. Cokes311Edit
You may think you're hot, a semi-finalist,
But I didn't show you my linguistic twists,
In the 19th century Coke powered the world,
By the 20th a soft drink market unfurled,
But here and now, it's illegal to possess,
You're way past your best, and that's showing as stress.
5 RPG's is your tally,
Commitment isn't up your alley,
40 hours strains your mind,
Which is sadly unrefined,
Your rap is crude, also dull and overrated,
I think you'll find that you've just been checkmated!
Looks like it's gonna be two weeks, two easy wins
Call the coroner, notify your next of kin
Sixth degree burns; I melt sucka MCs skin
with lyrics so fiery, Miyamoto calls me Din
So my little British bird, all proper and prim
Your fairy tale rap career is lookin' pretty Grimm
You should know your chances of survival are slim
Don't worry, though, at your funeral I'll rap the hymns
Have the church singin' "Cokes rules everything around me, CREAM"
Get it honey? I am the American dream
You said checkmate? not under this king's regime
I'm like Diana Ross in this **** - I reign supreme
You walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
And as you do so, you fear for your every breath,
'Cos the god of rap, beats with his rod and his staff,
He don't 'preciate you're whining and don't care for no calf,
I'm grown up and my rhythmic talent overflows,
You lie in green pastures and and you overexpose,
The American dream is now to get fat and stupid,
And as for the heat, all you're melting is cupid,
So you're delirious, slightly mysterious,
Everyone else knows you should be rhyming serious,
Because 2Pac and Biggie follow me for the days of my life,
And we all dwell in the house of rap without strife.
You went from rhymin' librarian to a rappin' pastor
I lie in green pastures? More like light's green, blowin' past ya
Call me Smith & Wesson, with lyrical bullets I'll blast ya
You're a no-hit wonder, Vanilla Ice could outlast ya
Tsunamis look sweel next to this unnatural disasta
Soon I'll be makin' the people realize you're just gassed up
You'll be like "Damn, this what it's like to get outclassed?" - Yup
Your ****'s so bad I got like sixteen bars that I passed up
I'm takin' you to school, because you need to get classed up
First assignment's an essay - compare and contrast us
Professor Aeon though this'd be close, guess you were miscast, huh?
This battle's over, *****, so just roll over like I asked ya
Battle 39: swordsman 12 v. Ed BellisEdit
Rappin' against me is suicide, you can never be the winner
Like playin' Russian roulette wit six bullets in the cylinder!
But I won’t need six, one round will end this discussion
Quit this battle now or death will be the repercussion
Imma lyrical Aggro Crag, droppin’ boulders so dominant
I’m tha bomb in CS, but you’ve got no chance of disarmin’ it
You tryin’ to make a fight Ed? I’m the bomb in ya lasagna
You try to take a bite, dead, wind up with no head-on-ya!
You’re in the shrine of the monkey but ya can’t find the right part
Ya time is almost up, I’m about to stop ya heart
My power level’s off the chart, my **** is transcendent
I’m the Olmec of this temple and you’re all out of pendants.
That metaphor’s old – it’s the wrong nickelodeon
Five cents for yo’ rhymes, they ain’t worth a simoleon
“Cut off his head!” they say. My, how Jacobean!
The crowd needs some hipness, need rhymes so protean
Not lil’ Tommy Pickles, tryin’ to bust out his playpen
Cuz yo’ Bridge is crumblin, y’all best declare Stayman
Ya rhyme with the flow of that damn Geico caveman
But the preacher is here! Crowd, can I get an “Amen?”
The slick wordsmith’ll save ya from verbal abuse
Gonna shiskabob swordsman right off his caboose
So pick up the paper, today’s front-page news:
You’re scrambled eggs, son, and I done cooked yo’ goose.
Here comes the Swordsman, back again to dominate
Just like Kirby Jump, ya head’ll wind up on my dinner plate
Ya aint like TV, I’ll never hear ya on the radio
Ya **** is wack, ya way off track, get out of the studio
Now I’m back on the attack, punish you for talking smack
You’re a hack, ya just sacked, I’ll shut ya up like Candle Jack
Jacobean? Why yes, and I’m King James the First
I’m a rap epicurean and I deem your **** the worst
Ya say you're Ed the King, I’ll execute ya for impersonation
Kneel before me, in resignation you’ll receive salvation
Bow ya head in shame, cause you just lose the game
Slice an “S” into ya chest so that ya won’t forget my name
For someone called swordsman you’re really quite dull
Allow me to kickstart my point through ya skull
Your rhymes put me into a sleep-induced lull
But now I’ma breach ya and pierce through ya hull
I’m the true swordsman here, my beats’ blades Arthurian
Your shtick’s gettin old just like Gray comma Dorian
I’m Tom Nook, just runnin’ a Bell-Beat Emporium
My rap GPA makes me valedictorian
There’s no need to try – let me draw you a graph
You’ve been the new victim to suffer my wrath
So go home, get lost, take a hike and a bath
Cuz all you’ll be carvin’s a rap epitaph.
Battle 40: TVontheRadio v. kirbyjumpEdit
So I'm startin' off this battle with the user - kirbyjump
Do I have a reason to believe in murderin' this chump?
Cuz I don't have time to waste with THA LEAGUE'S biggest disgrace
Whose rappin' leaves an awful taste on the entire human race
Come face-to-face with me, your destiny - incurable lobotomy
The prophecy is plain to see! Escapin' this reality?
A fallacy! You're bound to be controlled, it ain't no fantasy!
No mercy, just brutality! You'll get from me no sympathy!
Lookin' for some pity? Just ain't part of my vocabulary
Handily rewirin' the state of your mentality to permanent insanity
You just don't get it, kirby? Ain't no battlefield! For me?
It's an operating table, just conducted surgery.
Battle 41: Biolizard28 v. LopenEdit
Whether you here or not, it all ends the same
I rise to the top, you wallow in shame
This may be a bit much, so keep up if you can
Who am I rappin' to again?.... Lo-Pan?
No wonder you can't rap, you should quit instead
After all, isn't there a dagger lodged in yo' head?
How could you take mah one linahs, I sing like a myna
There's gonna be big trouble in this little China
Up against me, you're in great danger
Might want to call on Supes and every Power Ranger
For bothering to show, you're definitely brave
But do yourself a favor and crawl back to your grave
It's true I am dead but I'm not who you think I am
Get it through your head- I'm risin- exposin your rap sham
Grave can't contain me I rise again every century
I see what you got and it ain't enough to deal wit me
Try your holy water and your silver throwing crosses
But son you ain't a Belmont- you just can't process-
Yo loss it be swift I take you like an evening mist
Now yo pants look miffed, they all covered in piss
You like a gimp squad gamelan-- all players sportin broken wrists
But this ain't no Shamalan here-- you losin-- no moronic twist
I'd keep on goin here but I think you got the gist
I'm the lord of the night- and lord- you been dissed
Hope ya liked the ego trip, cause it's about to cease
Better raps have come out of 4Kids One Piece
You're right there's no twist, the ending is clear
I said it once, and again, boy, your end is near
The rap of a tool, the rhymes of a fool
Why not crawl into your corner and chug down some Game Fuel
People wait for my lyrics, like gamers for Brawl
Every line that is spoken pleases them all
Your rap is a lot like a claim to miller
It's BS, boy, we all know you the killer
In this case, of the genre you thought you rocked
If your Master Chief, consider yoself L-Blocked.
Course I'm the killer, defeat men by the dozens
Slayin by night while you spawn wit yo cousins
Makin heinous little babies with yo fuzzy friend Toto
As a bonus they got rabies and the height of Mr. Frodo
But who am I to talk about yo relational condition
I ain't gonna balk, just be prepared for yo perdition
Cuz I steal men's souls, and I do it with a saunter
But you don't belong, troll-- can I get a "die monster!?"
I need Game Fuel to take.. weak rhymes of this manner?
Just call me Solid Snake... cuz I'm makin you my Tanner
Your soul is mine to reave and now I leave you to grieve
You a joke to perceive don't be naive, son, believe
Battle 42: Menji76 v. PukeInMyPotEdit
WATCH OUT! Cause my rhymes are well versed.
Step against me and like the Beast, you'll be cursed
I've drank all the Sprite, how you gonna quench your thirst?
See - my rhymes'll get stuck in your head so quick, you might burst.
Some write these out ahead of time, mine are all unrehearsed
I'm mysterious, yet serious, and a tad bit delirious
Cause you've put me to sleep, I might snore because you're such a bore
Rapping against you is such a chore, I should ask for a few dollars more
My rhymes have you hurt, they won't heal from a max potion
This battle is more pointless than that game Endless Ocean
I'm dangerous and break the laws, like Newton's third
An equal response to my rap? Now that's just absurd
Were you born that cocky or was it something developed?
Talkin like you the ish, ***** you need to shut the hell up.
I’m diabolical, yet comical, my rhymes are astronomical
Your raps have less depth than a dying hair follicle.
I’m the illest freestylist around and that’s what the fact is
Meanwhile lames like you be spittin same **** different laxatives.
It’s funny; you rap like you an emperor sittin atop his palace
Well the rich meets the strong, hope you like the taste of malice.
Your raps are unrehearsed? Well that explains a lot…
But you may want to change that next time you verse PukeInMyPot
I may be Cocky, but it's fine when you're the best like Rocky
Don't mess we me, or I'll drop bombs like you're Nagaski
I hope that wasn't your best, cmon, are you even applying yourself?
Cause our raps don't even deserve to be on the same shelf
I'm hot like a burrito, and bite worse than a mosquito
You're a pointless wife like Leto, I'm the pres and here's my veto:
You're rhymes leave me unimpressed, something to read on a tube of Crest
You shoot remarks at me callin' it your best, but they fail like a shot to a b-proof vest
A rap crime you have commit, unlike OJ the glove does fit
The fans hate you, I'll speak for Ron who says "You are a ***!"
I stop you like a red light, pullin' you over takin' away your civil rights
Now you're my ***** like the Queen made Edmund with the delicious Turkish Delights!
Alright enough is enough, still frontin like your tough
Well I’m callin your bluff- you softer than marshmallow fluff
Everyone keeps sayin you’re an improvement, well I’m not impressed with the movement
So catch a smooth hint and read between the grooved print:
You’re a never-was, a never-will-be,
Rappin like you buzzed, like some sorta hillbilly.
Now I just fiercely revealed, Menji, how I can’t be pierced like the shield of Genji
I can’t explain thorough enough how you just a burrow in the rough,
Never wholly halting my raw law, I’m pole-vaulting over your flawed jaw’s withdrawals
Now before this even begun I knew you’d be outdone
My lyrics are weigh a ton, bar-none, still think you can succumb?
Well the only option left in the long run is using your head and a gun
Battle 43: sonicblastpunch v. BBallman7Edit
i take it you're incapable of spellin 'basket', 'bean' or 'base'
because yer username, buh-ball man, warrants kickin in yer face
there's no challenge for me here, you're almost too sad to harass
i have more 'b's in my username than you've had pieces of ass
yer reputation's so inflated it was misdiagnosed as gout
think yer buh-ballin, i'll give you somethin to buh-bawl about
what chance do you think you stand against an act you cannot follow
you'll get reamed so badly that the doctors will proclaim you hollow
i'll crush you effortlessly like babar crushes rataxes
leave you violated like hermaphroditus by salmacis
i'm a bipedal explosive so prepare yer final breath
to say buh-bye to yer buh-balls when i bob-omb you to death
Is it sonicblastpunch or chronic ass munch?
You've spawned the last bunch of ***s with bagged lunch,
I go through bags, wraps, and blunts, you went drag for months,
Did you have fun, don't get mad son, I had to ask once.
You were the favorite going in to these couple of raps,
Now you're under attack, I use fire and axe,
You were getting higher and higher but your empire collapsed,
Your skill is on max, but still you're outmatched,
You don't have the will, you'll get killed, and can never go back.
I'm coming up quick, your verse seems to lack strengths,
Battle with me, and I'll take away your last sense,
Just like Heath Ledger, they'll speak your name in the past tense.
since you seem to like celebrities stick this one in yer blotter
like jim morrison but talentless you're just dead in the water
you were talkin about lunch bags but you're just a sadsack
you're so bad at this you tried to rhyme 'strengths' with 'back'
i'd suggest you step up yer game, if i thought you had any
but you reek of desperation like a servbot chasin zenny
and like a star-bellied sneech you're just runnin around in circles
cause yer street cred ranks in negatives like carlton's or urkel's
but you'll always be reminded of the lesson you've been taught
when my victory scars you for life like ryu scarred sagat
we both know you're sadly outclassed for the coming peer review
cause i'm broadway with park place and you're buh-baltic avenue
You're coming off desperate after what you've just written,
Your ass is gettin scared like your livin in prison,
I see the fear in your eyes and everyone's wonderin,
Is he makin fun of buh-ball, or is he just just stutterin?
I don't need no street cred, ***** your streets dead,
You're in the big pool now, hope you swim in the deep end,
I shouldn't even bother, cuz I'm a grown curse,
How can you swim in water, when you drowned in your own verse?
You should have went home first, now you'll be in a lone hearse,
Making your sister moan works, I'll go that low sir.
You're in ****'s creek, and I got your black paddle,
You can have monopoly this week, but I'll win the rap battle.
Battle 44: DNEA v. Furious JEdit
I'm gonna start this out easy and slow
Since all you've been doing is giving blow
Boy, you're merely the grass that I'll mow
I'm a slick wordsmith dealin' out the phat rhymes
Think you can defeat me? Ha! Get wit' da times!
Kid, you'll only beat down a bunch of sissy mimes!
I'm the best there is, the best there ever was
All you've been doin' and banging your cuz
And not of the female kind, it's your big one named "Buzz"
You're pathetic; you're lazy and fat
Hell, you're just a rat, and I'm the cat
YOWWWW~! WHERE DA HOOD AT
...what the hell was that? "YOWWWW~! WHERE DA HOOD AT"?
I mean, you're clearly not black, or part of a frat. When you call your rhymes "phat" you sound like a prat.
Oh drat, DNEA "mowed" me. He said I was fat! How in God's name will I ever recover from that?
Your slang and misspellings reveal your skills are flat. I feel somehow that I can top "dat"
Without resorting to sounding uneducated. Without coming in with an ego falsely inflated.
Without tainting rap, and leaving it degraded. I'll spit something fresh, and leave you sedated.
Sedated, berated, and castrated by my rhymes. Scoring big on my first try, quite unlike Tynes.
You don't have enough tread to scale my lyrical inclines, so its time for you to read between the lines.
This match is over and it's not yet done. Hell, it was over before it had even begun.
Like REO Speedwagon you have to take it on the run. You were no competition, no challenge, no fun.
With my refined words, like wine from a cask, battling you to oblivion was a trivial task.
And if you want to know how my skills got so vast. I'm only going to say, "Do not even ask."
Hello boys and girls, welcome to "Cooking with DNEA". Today, it's Furious' ass that I'm about to sauté. Add some garlic, peppers, and your own FJ.
Make a joke about his mother, yes, that's the way. Now burn him, it's easy, it's just like flambé. Now dump it all out, and let it sit on any tray.
Using the miracles of television magic, it's now done, hooray! But is this dish tasty or good? Nuh uh, nay! Don't even try it, else you'll catch the ***.
FJ, your rap? Too many words, is all I can say. Want to rap like this, alright I'll play. I bring you an incomprehensible amount of words without delay.
See, I can stretch this out for all day. Think that's was your best rap, then you better pray. But not even God will help you, he's keeping you at bay.
No hope for you, not even a ray. God hates you, boy. Get it? Okay? Get out of here, no one wants you, take your pay.
Aww, don't cry, you just were pitted up against the best. Did you really think you could beat me, surely you jest! You merely fall in the gutter tier, along with the rest!
In the future, you'll be livin' at home, a bird's nest. And you'll look back to the day that you addressed... the greatest rapper of them all, I'm sure to which many can attest.
You got beaten down, word-for-word, you'll admit, yet detest. And after that you retreated to join the local Poseurfest. All beatniks and losers, just like yourself, yes.
Now that you've poorly attempted to beat me, go lay down and die, because I schooled you, destroyed you, "No you didn't" you lie, but face it, it's over, because your rap is pitiful and makes me sigh.
But hey, at least you gave it a try, to beat the best, better than the rest, a real likable guy. So, so long, it's time for me to go and get myself some pie,
Don't even bother with another rap, 'cause you'll just make everyone cry. It's over, get it, don't even bother, it'll just be boring and dry. If you make another, I have one thing to ask: "Why?"
The only person I'll make cry is your mother
As she's forced to watch her son go down the gutter
Your flow is all off, its scattered and cluttered.
My flow is smooth, like cream or like butter.
Try to match line for line, but you fail every time.
Comparing yourself to me is a Goddamn crime.
Your lines are long, but not as long as my ****.
When I go short like you, girls line up 'round the block.
Your attempt for a comeback, came up way too short.
Victory goes to Furious, the sources report.
So rest up, and go home. Maybe chug down a brewski.
Cuz I'm like Sawamura, and you're Vodka Abstainski.
Battle 45: BesaidGuy v. Aeon AzuranEdit
Aeon your time’s come, your time’s up, your time’s near
I got a lyrical Arsenal like im goin for 1st place in the Premier
I hope you think im lyin, cuz im for sure down for tryin
Ta kill ya while ya dyin, rip ya heart out like a mayan
So please, for ya father’s sake, just give up, don’t gotta wait
You love my lines but gotta hate, Deepthroatin like Watergate
I beat up beef like slaughtered steak, exploding like a bottled lake
Im dangerous like condom breaks, you weaker than garter snakes
Even Dante couldn’t battle me, called Godot out on fallacies
Make Cervantes knees rattle G, kicked Mari-o out his galaxy
So disturbingly are your lyrics perturbing me
That the equivalent of this flow is me releasing heavy lobster verbally
The planets have aligned for Double A to cause ya misery
This syzygy isn’t free, pay your fees for my rap wizardry
It’s Ptolemaic, one plus one is three, defies the algebraic
You’re archaic, I’ve seen math textbooks less formulaic.
I’m ‘bout to rearrange your face like a Picasso mosaic
I’ll even tamper with your genes, deoxyribonucleic
Acid I’ll amass it all with talent unsurpassable
Turn you into a mutant and knock you onto your ass ya fall
Farther than ever before, and (in a return to the classical)
Your mother’s a dirty whore. Don’t try and slip out of this noose
Because your Mayan apocalypse is nigh and once you lose
You’ll have to act like Mel Gibson and blame it on the Jews.
At first I was so gracious, my devastation was quite spacious
Until your lyrics became ostentatious, my verbiage is efficacious
Yes, your girlfriend is flirtatious, slightly leaning towards salacious
My flow is so tenacious, I come at you so veracious
Your every verse is so loquacious, bordering closely on fallacious
I must say that you are tasteless, rip you up until you’re faceless
You’re king but im backed by aces, down for crackin faces
Shoot my gun till your mouth’s full of metal like you were packin braces
Useless like beer without barley, I’ll have you meetin Chris Farley
Floatin on wings--hangin out with angels like Bogsley
So for you, its quittin time, just quit now and gimme mine
Cuz all your verses are simply “fill in the blanks” with ****ty lines.
Battle 46: RX7InfinitiIII v. ExThaNemesisEdit
I'ma take this chill, so sit back and relax.
Turn this into a gimmick, no delete key used against ExLax.
Obviously verse and rhythm mean nothing to this crew.
So instead I'ma spit some lyrical **** at you.
First try's the best, since it's what I wrote first,
Scratch that; I know for a fact that it's gonna be the worst.
No one likes my raps, you can tell from the past matches,
Won't give you the benefit of losing by forfeit but I may as well given the current state of the situation.
Rhyming's broken down, like the rest of my game.
*****, I'm so unpopular, don't even remember my own name.
If I'm counting right, I'm coming up on twelve,
So good luck, enjoy the win, and by next match I'll try to come up with a better way to win the votes of board 8 since obviously what I've been doing all along has lost quite a bit of stock since the original tournament.
Aeon who IS this cat, Arr Ex Seven Infiniti?
What’s with the joke competition that-you-be-givin’ me?
What IS this crap man, you gotta be ****in’ me.
Step in here and say that-you-be-kiddin’ PLEASE
Alright fine, time to put this match on the shelf.
Arr Ex you so bad that you insultin’ ya self.
I give you credit for showin’ to this domination,
Even though you put up a complete abomination.
My rap creation’s gonna make some vibrations that’ll send your head on a ****in’ vacation.
And I make this exclamation without hesitation, Coz I know I’m board 8’s new rappin’ sensation.
So just sit bax and relax, homie while I rock the spit outta ya.
They call me ExLax because I just knocked the **** outta ya.
I like how people are actually considering this a battle still.
I've given up, dude. ExTha, fire at will.
I just don't wanna be that guy who quits halfway through,
So I'm just taking an off-week to figure out what to do.
Aeon, DC, etc., give me some tips?
How do you make raps so popular out of those lips
When most of the time they don't even have
Rhythm? Are the two important things really halved
As content and rhyming? I mean, I understand
That both of those are pretty important, and
It's true that yours are really quite good, but
I just can't seem to throw meter out the window in order to solely focus on those two... waht
Oh **** this then, yo, I would've been better off.
Spending 12 lines praising Sephiroth.
In fact I might as well, since this is an easy decision.
I don't even need to use my lyrical precision
to slice and dice this dude with my masamune.
And I hate to go and give you guys spoilers-so-soon.
But it isn't early, it's the end, it's done.
Arr Ex is basically *spoilers* at the end of disc one.
And I won't lie, praying was a good idea, yo.
I shut you up like Santino to Maria, though.
Alright I'm done wasting lines on this pathetic competition.
I'll await next round for some serious opposition.
Battle 47: WiggumFan v. Forceful DragonEdit
Hey there FD, I'm gonna give you a thrashing to remember
Expect to be wakin' up 'round the end of September.
Cuz after I'm done you won't be able to get up outta bed,
I'll be under the impression that FD means "Feels Dead".
I'll crush you over my salad like feta cheese and croutons
All it takes to do that is a force of point oh-five Newtons.
But you ain't so forceful man, no, I've a more stellar duration,
With my much greater amount of mass times acceleration
When we're playing with physics though, we're playing my my rules
Coz I'm faster than the speed of light and can create infinite Joules.
So get down on your knees, you've got respect to pay
You can be my Fan baby, literally blow me away
Your "Immeasurable Skills" just don't fit this equation,
You embarrass our science with such flawed computations.
And though Wigs rants and raves, spewing Fallacious Delusions,
Your Faithful Don is on scene to clear up the confusion.
Such is the strength of my Fusional Discourse,
Your head and body will Fiercely Divorce.
I suggest Feigning Death, save yourself from this fate,
Drawing me for week three set your own Fatal Date.
This rhyming Faultless Dance has you fully entranced,
So just raise the white flag, I'm UK to your France.
Don't bother to try, this wasn't a glitch,
The name's Eff Dee *****, You best not forget.
Man, you kiddin' me FD; that **** was pathetic.
You can't touch my raps, they're too copacetic.
I said what FD stood for, don't take it out of control,
Your advertising's more blatant than the Super Bowl's.
Be smarter, like Apple , give up and avoid the mess
Cuz your 12 line rap can only save you 15% or less.
When it comes yo your rap man, you really blew it
It's so easy, yet an FD couldn't do it.
You don't have it in you to best me, cuz you're just a quack
After I wreck you up, well, I just hope you've invested in Aflac.
We're done here, and you're just food to Morris the cat,
So bend right over and "Do you want some rape with that?"
Now I'm not one to criticize, antagonize or penalize,
But I suggest you learn to et-y-mol-o-gize.
Pardon me a reprieve as I ne-ol-o-gize:
"Wiggum: Noun. One who is in all things hor-ren-dous."
"Wigging: Verb. To expose oneself in-dec-o-rous."
Stop. don't rap. You'd be best off rendered aphonous.
Lets make it simple, I know you're slow.
In layman's terms your rap, it blows.
Your failings make your rap a mess,
rhyme and flow, they were not addressed.
Worst thing of all, you think you're great,
Just take your **** 'way from Board 8.
Battle 48: TheLastOblesik v. Mega ManaEdit
Time to take this rap by storm it's gonna be gory
Mega Mana's about to feel the 5th category
Go ahead...raise the floodgates to brace for impact
I flow down so hard you won't be intact
This isn't competition; I deserve better
When people ask about you I just say you're under the weather
The hills you climb are steeper than church steeples
But like Kanye said Board 8 don't care about Mana people
The results are black and white just like New World Order
Mega Mana isn't safe unlike the French Quarter
Superdome that ho while I complete my rout
You ain't no damn Saint, now march your ass out