Rap Battle

I challenge whoever dares to face me to a rap battle. My opponent shall start.

The thing about rap is you have to remember the beat
But I hope you can see
That a chill guy like me would rather whack his meat

Really, that's okay, I'll rap with you son
Just remember my rule
This here debate is one on one

Not that I would ever even think to suggest
That a cool dude like you
Would be stealin' raps from the best

Anyway, I'm A-Dawg, the number one rapping dude
As a rule of thumb
I like money, b****es, and eating food

While my raps may be quite inconsistent
You must understand
I'm incredibly insult resistant

So, I am inclined to believe that it is your turn
Try to bust a phat ryhme
Or I'll give you a sick burn

Please allow me to introduce myself, I'm a man of wealth and taste
And I leave all my opponents defeated, fleeing in great haste
I've been destined for greatness ever since I was a fetus
Being the one true descendant of the legendary Romulus and Remus
I am descended from the great goddess Venus
And thus I lay claim to a superior Genus
You are lower than the lowest of the plebs and of the proles,
And I'lll launch more lyrical arrows at you than a tribe of Seminoles.
You'll gape at my infinite and all reaching prowess
And observe my flow is a delicate, deadly, and accurate process
I've been sent by the Gods with all their clout
I'm here to end this intelligence drought
Our forces will battle like William's and Harold's
And quickly your poorly constructed army unfolds
You'll fall for my diversion as I go in for a deadly blow to the chest
It'll be a silent and quick ambush like Teutoberg Forest
You see me lyrically slay you with your eye
Your rhymes have failed so you might as well retry
This battle's near end as I go in for the critical blow
Your fate is doomed like the Gaillard Chateau
You'll stand in fear of the grandeur that was Rome
Octavian's my name and my legacy's set in stone.

A man of wealth and class?
Psh
My a**

Let me tell you a tale
About my opponent
The weak and frail

The bouncer down at One Oak looked at him sideways
He said "Go back to your roots son
There's no line at TGI Fridays."

You can't stand the recession, you know this.
Tell me, what's the DOW at?
Still bigger than your bonus.

Let up this facade
Your the exodus pharaoh
And son, I'm god

I'm cool because I use the three C's.
Chicks cash crystal
That's my only strategy

Free on nights and weekends, no discernible skills
Sir, you're a luckless bum
Or my cell phone bill

Anyway, in conclusion,
Pretty boy here ain't so pretty
Don't fall for the illusion

I'm the one you want
I'm the one you can trust
I'm the one who can dish some mad taunts

Prissy demeanor? Cultural references?
Oscar Wilde, knock it off
Go find your sexual preferences.

I'm smart and my raps have flow
If you're not disabled
You should vote pro

Enough with your insults, your a subordinate and a knave,
and my rhymes will destroy you like tomahawks thrown by an Indian brave.
Your the kind of rapper obsessed with the trivial like nice cars and grills,
but the best disses you can throw out involve cell phone bills?
You're nothing but but a punk, a lowlife, and a wangster,
Al Capone and Johnny Dillinger were actually gangsters.
You say you've got cash, crystal, and chicks,
But really, you just live in a mobile home with some other hicks.
Come on, you're nothing, just a pawn in the game,
A total imbecile, jealous of my all reaching power and fame.
Come on, my opponent, the truth you must face,
Your only real friends are spam accounts on Myspace.
I'll reduce you to rubble, like the Soviets did to Berlin,
You better watch out for my curses, they're deadlier than Merlin's!
This war's not finished, but the battle's already over,
Your fate is doomed, like the Bf-109s over the cliffs of Dover!
Come on give up already, this battling you is really a simple affair,
You may beg to the Gods, but they'll just laugh and won't answer your prayer.

I believe you may have got the wrong impression
A white trash punk?
That's up to your own discretion

But I know my opponent hangs out with arrogant pri**s
And he's just jealous that guys like me
Can get all the chicks

Listen man, even your mom thinks your a tool
And if you decide to actually vote for this priss
You're a total fool

With all these insults, I know you must hate this
But that's okay
I'm about to put you in a two by two matrix

My opponent is lie, like Santa Claus
And if you plan to vote for him
I urge you to pause and ask why

Pro takes his inspiration from iamadragon
But as it turns out
He's on the Wal-Mart welcome wagon

While my opponent can be pompous and flamboyant
Let me tell you
He's far from clairvoyant

When my gang succeeds,
And there's a gun to your head
We ain't gonna hear your pleads

Sure, you might be on top of the world now
But I'll still be popping bloods
Way after you settle down and marry a fat cow

In the machine, my opponent is just another cog
While he may have gone to school
He still ain't my dog!

In conclusion, I'd like to state a few facts,
That is, before my opponent completely cracks.
My opponent threw out some "mad" attacks,
Comparing me to Santa Claus, when all he needs to do is relax.
You think you're a made man with everything in the world,
But you watched as all your insults and rhymes unfurled.
This battle's already over, as I decimated you on the mic,
Destroyed in one swift blow, just like the Third Reich.
Lyrically, I have repeatedly struck you down,
And unmasked you as a wannabe cocky clown.
Let's face the truth, your rhymes are shallow and dead,
And you thought for a moment you could rhyme pleads and head?
As for you thinking you'll get all the chicks,
Women generally don't think being a lowlife and pompous are a good mix.
As for saying that I'm copying dragon, you're sniffing the wrong scent,
And don't pretend for a minute you don't copy from Eminem and 50 Cent.
As for all the bloods you'll be popping, that'll be with a squirt gun,
While I'll be resting well knowing I'm the most powerful man under the sun.
So just give up already, I'm sick of this easy slaughter,
Your rhymes flow like rusty rocks while mine flow like water.
In the end my friends, follow your instinct and vote pro,
Because clearly grammar is not one subject that my opponent knows.

Verdant, it's the word of the day
And if you guys are cool
I'll have my way

My rap draws to a close
And now I'm gonna go home
And go into a crank induced doze

But first, let me finish
With every passing round
My opponents ego is diminished

As for girls, I don't care
You can take your stuck up women
You guys make a great pare

And a lowlife I am not
Say it to me again
And I'll pop you on the spot

Please don't insult my grammer
Cause it don't matter
Not when I was in the slammer

You're not hardcore
More than anything else
Rapping you was a chore

You fail to see
That compared to yours, my life is a challenge
But that's okay, you can go knock balls off tees.

As for me, I'm gonna be popping Crips
You can read your books
As I watch a strippers hips

You ain't never been to jail
You ain't never had to beg for bail
Good sir, you fail

You think it's hard on the ninth hole?
Try doing meth
While you're on parole

Anyway, vote for me
Because you're not a cultured pr***
A gangsta is what you wanna be