Debate Rounds (3)
Step into your turf with my breath and a verse,
Blast my dope rhymes, leave you dead in a hearse.
Try n' step to me, I slit your throat till you hope
To bleed out before you hear my next words.
My ly-ri-cism leaving you with no hope,
Try and spit back but have a lump in your throat.
Comin hard and fast make your fro sweep back.
Eyes open wide like you just seen a ghost.
Makes me wanna puke
Your rhymes sound as good
as an old guy dropping a duke
you suck, your bars just dont cross the line
if you were at a suck battle, youd do just fine
i am so good, that i wiz on babies
in their mouth, down their throats, givin them scabies
my bars are nice, yours are poor
so you better leave, dont forget to close the door.
Those rhymes were just poor. You're a disgrace.
Kid you're out of your depths. Sit back, take a breath.
Chill and relax, 'fore you meet your own death.
I'm a rap master crushing your wack crap.
I stay on beat and make your heart collapse.
Try to step and act hard, I make your bones snap in half.
Make you scamper back to your dad on your knees screamin' "I failed you!"
No need to say more cause I clearly outplayed you.
You look nervous now, all checkin' your Seiko.
Turn to your mother now praying she'll save you.
Tears in your eyes yellin' "This is too PAINFUL!"
but you still suck, did you not get the letter?
No one likes you, you are the disgrace
I am almost sure that faggot is your race.
You are such a terrible rhymer.
Yo lines are out of style,
Sit back little woman, let me rap a while
I am so good, that you dream about me
my rhymes are as good, as bread is on cheese
You mess with me, you get your sh**t slapped
Im pretty sure we know, who won this rap
You are gay, a real queer
It makes me wonder why youre still here.
But be rest assured that I whooped your a$$.
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