lyrical disaster

I storm in the booth like a verbal disaster,

I’m slashing these syllables call me a rhyme crafting master.

Your lines fall apart, mine strike even faster,

I leave beats in the dust like they met with a blaster.

 

I’m cracking the track till it crumbles in pieces,

I feast on opponents my hunger increases.

I wreck every bar ’til the tension releases,

My pen’s dropping bombs, but the damage is metaphor leases.

Your flow is a flicker, my flow is a furnace,

I torch every verse with a purpose so earnest.

Crowd yelling “he’s lethal!” but nothing is murderous

Just lyrical warfare, the harmless-but-furious.

 

So bring me a challenger, bring me a fight

I tear up the stage with a savage delight.

No blood in the booth, only bars taking flight,

I devastate beats while I dominate mics.