CHALLENGER'S RAP

• First bar, the verse starts yet I already had one this
• Adonis? yet a picture with a black one on his profile, just some backwards wrong shit
• dude that lacks logic harassing a couple of tracks with bat sonics
• weak squeaking beneath the beat you try to catch on with,
• rat callings, cheesy raps that seem be trapped in, kinda ironic
• I rhyme like a nine's drawing, get o's after every line falls in
• then line the cartridge to spark shit, bury this cat, 9 cemetery pines boxed in
• How you feel lying, feline in a coffin? Feel like a coffee bean?
• Bitter sweet decline to your sleep,
• but after reaches the peace of dawning, no one will feel like mourning
• You seem prepared to fade though, leaves in the air steaming, wearing a halo
• to receive the weird smears of the paint's soul, hell is where you may go
• after I flare, and share Dante's flamed inferno,
• taunt the graves with hymns of a sinning scare crow, stare grinning till you begin burning to coal
• fair winning it appears when I keep turning the scroll, history's words in a code
• the epitome of learning from the old, "this is indeed how tournaments should go
• torment your foes, then sing a chorus to gloat, and lift your sword up to show"
• your body rips to floor dust and is blown, the rest of your torn bones crushed to foam,
• flushed to low puddles of brimstone, remnants of my flow trouble your lit soul
• I expose the grown microphone muscles to lift those, bars, like guzzling jugs of drink doses,
• and toast this loathing scripture opposing this poet,
• throw bread, slips of moet and roses, print the word like a minister,
• scribble printing the signature on the grave as "your killer", the first visitor.