Battles Tew-SLy vs LNS
RULES
Technical rap battle
Max of 46 lines
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CHALLENGER'S RAP
- //Verse 1
- It’s about time time to enter my prime
- I have to remind myself there tired of success
- I got crimes for tryin’ to self grind on progress
- I’m fine with the pen, nothing to be designed
- I care less about the pen, kill on music so I murder it by
- Sign, I’m heartless with no stencil to buy to comply
- I’m beatless, so tensile I can fight on site
- You fight for sight I fight for life to scalpel
- My pencil game, I write cause I set up a scalpel
- To cut like in right about all tells, stories flash
- Shut it Tory I ain’t got a door-y retort to lash
- Out on my hits, it isn’t healthy to score me
- Like your nuts are a nuke to heat seek me
- To the fore to the floor we duke beefs cause
- He seeks a blue devil, so let’s dude it out cause
- You creak tools so he fills dudes to duck out cause
- He creeps up with the tool to bill you a couple coffins
- //Verse 2
- To keep a buck rappers drool over names
- Couple bucks says you buck over games
- Cause you over tuck a knuckle over frames
- If you frame sandwiches than this knuckle grands
- A range of switches, sandy aren’t you knuckles
- If you a guardian of rap then my master
- Is the emerald cause I got the green of the (radio edit)
- If mermaids are real your glaze is in the category
- With forty mers to every maid father ain’t raise no sorry
- I drive with a clutch with a clutch to lay a goose out
- Sorry fuck I ain’t gonna duck with couple gooses out
- In line, worry about cucks who chuck up two 40s
- To clean your wovey, flow on this to pick up 4 0s
- Cause 4 grand is 4 0s, pick up on his sucker punch
- Don’t hunch I my ran, I ran out of blows to trust
- In my music, I-ran across the map to torch your rust
- Cause when I-rack crosses on pans cause I’m hushin’ ,
- Your conscious I attack bosses like I’m the player hustlin’
- Climbin’ to level 40, in the final boss so here’s the tactical
- Bomb to level off 40 flow pockets to leave you in denial
- Listen to the call cause I’m pock ten cassette decks to final
- Your raise in neck cause who checks the shout out tallies
DEFENDER'S RAP
- Yo, I roll in like a mob boss with a pen, not a heater,
- But my words still hit harder than a third-rate street leader.
- You lookin’ like a lost extra in a rap video feature,
- I spit so toxic it’s like I bathe in broken bleach, bruh.
- I’m a verbal hitman, but my bullets are punchlines,
- I’ll rob your whole career, leave it bankrupt nine times.
- You got a flow like a flat soda, expired since ’09,
- I’m sipping lyrical gin, twistin’ phrases like crime.
- Your rhymes so soft they squeak like clown shoes,
- I dress ‘em in metaphorical Gucci and leave y’all confused.
- I’m chaos in a hoodie, call me the twisted recluse,
- You’re the joke at the party with no punchline to use.
- I got gangster cadence, I move words like bricks,
- You move like a dad at a rave slow, awkward, no licks.
- I slap syllables around like a lyrical flick,
- Your rap game’s so broke it’s filing bankruptcy quick.
- I spit dark humor so sharp it needs bandages,
- I roast your whole life, your cat, your imaginary bandages.
- You call that gangster flow? Please, that’s kindergarten vandalage,
- I’m the Tony Montana of verbs with a linguistic advantage.
- I’ll twist your whole persona till it screams in irony,
- You try to clap back but get trapped in my symphony.
- I’m the psychopath clown in a gangster disguise, see,
- The crowd laughs while I leave your ego in the ICU.
- Step up if you dare, but I’m chaos incarnate,
- I got metaphors strapped, punchlines that decapitate.
- I’m twisted, hilarious, and gangsta, no debate,
- You’re just a warm-up act in my deranged rap state