CHALLENGER'S RAP

• _v_
• every line, sprayed is designed with a snipers pride
• fools are outlined in ink when I write
• then I drive, I advise basically if you better
• it's change your mind over facing me/my pen do drive-bys
• no metaphor, basically I slide bars hit harder than metal doors
• on Riker’s side, words spin in a whirlwind verbal on-site each bars a burst
• from the curb at the right height, scope on da pad and I swerve
• with a bright light, tagging names in my verse like it's turf on a white sign
•  
• minds like high crime, divine in a timed fight spit with a grip on the stick
• like a bike ride that way each stroke smoke throats like a pipe bomb
• in flight time, fools taste defeat fast get chalked where they stand
• from a tight line whenever I slide by because whenever I write rhymes
• they hit like a nines strike, dash with a track meet pace
• when the wrath peaks, pop out the box with a Glock grin
• that jack-in-the-box tease making you panic when tasked to speak
• feel fabric and static your gonna see each pattern collapse in a draft release
• I’m graphic — like getting peeps scrubbin’ blood stains
• off a taxi dudes backseat, yours to be exact because you acted strapped
• but lacked heat and a few in a crew ran up like an athlete at a track meet
• and the scene was so nasty the news at 2 + 3 refused to screen
• therefore there is froze assumptions for your info your dome is mostly bluffin
• opposite of rogue encodin loaded doctrines close to omens bars laced
• like missions cloaked in sacrificial Roman scrollin
• your flows corrupted, tones destructed, souls disrupted
• it getting so cold it broke your function
•  
• _v2_
• U ain't shit but a gay bitch who takes dick that's the only reason your sick
• unlike yours simply cause your a twit my bars go over your head
• like a moonlit cruise ship U just talk mystical, subliminal rituals
• fictional miracles, light, fictitious, minimal U never spit cynical
• also may wanna knuckle up once all said and done
• but will regret it quick when I turn your “third eye open”
• into a literal injury critical like the last of those who opposed me
• thinking every line made was a blade, they could've been a hybrid breed
• that thrives where the slime recedes climb with speed and pierces fears
• with quotes that splits ears and I leave them hopeless quick
• wordsmiths merged with a serpent spittin venom in versatile verses
• I'll come with lyrics that flip their dopest scripts every time
• and leave them with a broken wrist and molten lips
• for being basic and whack and before I dip say just face it their trash
• fools that couldn’t hold a sniff of the quotes I spit if I wrote this diss
• in blow that drips off golden bricks at Oprah’s crib
• because they're slow like old folks getting them left soul broke
• with no growth wishing they would've shifted gears
• fore they crashed like a boat with holes poked
• they notice fast the waits gonna take way more than 4 plus 6 years
• to get near this tier even if they're a titan beast
• I'm super lyrical emcee that'll battle anytime anywhere
• just to tear thru you for each vibe checker to see you sliced with ease
• before I leave your whole persona broken glass exposed and trashed
• I'll leave you just another foe composed of ash
• hop on your song and more than you explode on tracks
• because I decode your raps, like a rogue with codes to crack