Battles SLINGER vs wasp
RULES
No cursing, crude language, inappropriate references, usage references, slurs, or vulgar terms and phrases. (its pretty easy)
Max of 30 lines
THIS BATTLE IS OVER
wasp won this battle!
3 ROUNDS
View other rounds...
Battle on March 26 2025 and Battle on April 20 2025
CHALLENGER'S RAP
- Dear Wasp; no hard feeling, really, but lately I notice how you keep on
- trying to clown me, talk down to me, and continue to diss me, so I thought
- that its about time I came in with my left hook. Sure, being rude isn't really
- my thing, but you brought this on yourself, remember that "king". You say
- that I'm on the sidelines, swinging low with too much pride, yet you always
- act like a "ride or die", but the issue is your all talk, when it comes down to
- business, you're still stuck in my web, striving to find a way out. where's the
- self esteem? oh, you don't have any. I'll continue to dream big dreams, even
- if my cup's half empty. Remember dude, you're just a wasp, so I would
- suggest buzzing off before your wings get caught. You act as if every battle
- we take, its a Chemistry test, but on every answer you put an educated
- guess. if this is chess, I must have pawned your king, because by the time
- I'm done, you'll be knocked out this ring. I tried to play it cool for a little while,
- but you're just so persistent for the mind of a child. It's almost wild, the way
- you try to keep diminishing my literacy, but just because you're a lyrical failure
- doesn't mean you have to take it out on me! Plan A didn't work so I would
- suggest plan Bee, just stay safe from the hornets, unlike you, they know
- how to sting.
DEFENDER'S RAP
- I move in silent checkmates, pawns turn to ink stained bishops
- the boards my parchment, every square a cipher for the wishful
- you play at king? I scholars mate in three strokes
- your crowns a paperweight, my pens the dagger that provokes
- margins too small for your footnote existence
- I redline your legacy with rhetorical distance
- you quote the greats? how quaint, I write their sequels
- while you dog ear pages I autographed in ancient temples
- I bond syllables like hydrogen to oxygen
- your formulas boron, basic and forgotten
- the labs my studio, beakers full of metaphors
- you test tube rappers evaporate at room temperature
- catalyst flow, react or perish
- your periodic tables missing all my elements of merit
- I transmute lead punchlines to gold proverbs
- while you alchemize fools gold into empty reserves
- your manuscripts mildew in forgotten archives
- I illuminate libraries they carve in my name
- the quills my excalibur, inkwells the holy grail
- you scribble on napkins, I engrave in marble phrases
- dead sea scrolls? just rough drafts I discarded
- tour best works a palimpsest, erased and restarted
- the printing press trembles when my couplets land
- you read aloud? the words rearrange themselves mid sand