Battles Bluhco vs Maverick
RULES
Bring your a game cuz I did too this infact the first time I got an a ratting
Max of 31 lines
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CHALLENGER'S RAP
- Imma mad disher, I bring Gordon Ramsay to your kitchen
- I don’t swim with fish, step in, they self-beaching
- I pull up with precision, every strike a perfect incision
- But not when I am puff-puff fishing
- Imma witness you wezzeing Look at the blood you sneezing
- And get a grin on my face when you hit with paralysis, freezing
- Pull a Thanos on your vision This ain’t an accidental collision
- Every line I drop hits harder — that’s kinetic collision
- But when my heart beats twice — we call that superposition
- I break your squad apart clean — call that nuclear division
- Your whole style collapses — that’s the quantum decision
- Fuck Tom Cruise, there’s no impossible mission
- Take a headshot and like a mother thinking of their son “There's no bitch I am missing”
- Dodge a headshot when you duck, Bugs Bunny yells “Duck season!”
- Thinking you J. Cole blowing off — well this is the off season
- Chop you up, blood spray high Turn the sky into crimson
- 1 vs 60 — imma take on your whole damn legion Imma abstract your vision
- Pull a colonizer in your region Then backstab you ’cause of treason
- I know you feeling left out like a witness of omission
- Against me, that’s a terrible position I know I'm sick — it’s a chronical condition
- No edits in this verse, just a rhymer’s transition
- Only when you're dead is when you truly have composition
- Think you’ll be big? That’s a false vision
- I cook rappers for a living, welcome to the chef’s audition
- Put your name on my hitlist — boy, that’s a death’s commission
- You praying I fall off soon, keep wishing with religion
- But I rise every season — that’s a permanent revision
DEFENDER'S RAP
- Goin' "Ta-ta" to AI junk, so gone, dust kickin' with Timbs
- Stick it to them with raw songs done, go pick out the gems;
- Like a heist plund', but get pinched if you bit my rhy-thms
- Never had con runs, maybe had cops come for ticketing him
- In slips, by convictions so slim when publicly in-talks'd up,
- Pearly whites and purply lights Beamin' when sippin' on Jim
- Another 'crime' was, trespassed property? Like a nice blunt —
- Yeah I've been on one, for that Trick-or-Treat hemp
- Never had a fined tongue, I found mine bickerin' dims,
- Their lightbulbs buzz flickerin' when flicked with a switch
- No waist weaponry hid, their cocked guns are a stick up rear-ends
- I've vandalized with rocks flung and even scribbled on bricks
- A couple joyride stunts fishtailin', and shrimped out the whip
- The non-assailant boxed son, dodged a cheap-shot snuck-,
- //Up and grabbed some things, stuff stuffed in my bag for free,
- //As I used to "lift" but nowadays my muscles are atrophied, when I'm flexing a rep
- And still strong 'nuff for Hugh Laurie to risk on a limb
- Never been caught once in some wrong fun,
- Could say I played with Misdemeanors, like Chevon Young —
- Yet if you askin' me her, jabs bein' petty on "theft" was a miss.
- So gone missing, until all that I did's give, a phone home like when that Elliott kid left
- First 4 letters in inalienable rights,
- After crèm de la crèm — and you dip then;
- Chip off the old block? Not a criminal dipshit
- I'm smooth like Mike with the flow how an alien writes, on some villainous mischief
- Go *vim-vim* at the jungle gym, to slide or swing on a jit's vim
- Crawl-tubes where terrible-2s lie, turn these hellions helpless
- And motherfucker I'm too Sly, like the boy Dylan from SF
- The pigs are all roused, they need Gregory House,
- "I don't know you" dosed up my amygdala's doused
- 'Cause like my boy Tew-Sly, in the Clubs we the ones to rise where the 2s lie, start killin' the card dealers and pill/peel out the Sheriffs.