CHALLENGER'S RAP

• Inside you're trying, outside you're dying,
• for you this is tiring and I'm roaring
• but you're boring and my raps are soaring.
• Want to act hard, then act hard,
• but we all know you're sweating,
• and with the standards I'm setting,
• you'll get hung in a scrapyard.
• Can't you see, I'm what you can't be,
• levels higher than your hight
• I take flight, destroy on sight for spite,
• if you wanna rap against me, fucking get it right.
• Suppose I'll talk slow with simple words, you're clearly a toddler,
• why do I bother with your ass,
• you're no Shakur so stop the act, faker.
• Only drive-by you've experienced is at McDonalds,
• found you in the back room, sucking Ronald's,
• we all know you think that's a happy meal
• and with a certain appeal
• for you to wrap your lips around it and squeal,
• a more magical scene for you than anything by Stephen Speil.
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• Raps sting so hard, you need a riot shield,
• all I hear is "I yield, I yield!"
• But there aint no mercy, you've gone into percy,
• you need CPR,
• but no one to help,
• get flicked away like a cigar.
• I see you rolling with your cilque, basic and it makes me sick,
• I roll with a certain mystique
• and a rap technique that makes me unique
• you're an antique that won't last the week,
• so in this industry,
• what do you seek?
• I'm blowing up, so just call me the Boston Bomber,
• see you in my hood, get grabbed by the collar,
• I'm the punk-stomper-poser-stopper
• and I'm not even somber.
• Buddy, you can't win a kingpin,
• welcome to my kingdom,
• you're a little bit special, I gotta ask if you have a syndrome?
• Get thrown up and slammed down like a burger patty,
• your appearance is tatty,
• in battles I win like the Bengals of Cincinnati.
• Let this be a warning, to you and other fakes,
• because when you get fucked up,
• no one's gonna call it a "mistake".