sral
06-08-2018, 04:38 AM
Old battle verse vs a co-worker, year unknown
haha...you're a funny guy...
don't worry, matt, embarassing you is fun for me...
You wouldn't really wanna battle in the flesh,
I'd sink my talons in ya chest, talentless pest,
I read your buttle...verdict: laughable at best,
Your lines are a mess, I should edit the sloppiness,
You suck...so where my penis is headed is obvious,
Got me pissed? Naw, actually I find it amusing,
That you find my style confusing...
Probably the result of some heinous child-abusing,
What you're concealing so much is revealing,
If I hand you your cortex,
Will you get in touch with your feelings?
You asked for a blaze, but i'll only burn you a candle,
That last rhyme only earned you sample,
Perhaps another beating and you can learn by example,
I'll act as teacher, knock ass to back of the bleachers,
Poetry? Rap? ...you're neither,
You're the only "emcee" to still write rhymes in trapper-keeper,
You can't stand an inner-vision, so I'll brand you with some diction,
And beat ya ass so long you'll demand an intermission,
Punk, stand at attention,
"I'm the one asking the questions" like the Spanish Inquisition,
Damn this indecision, which method will kill him quickest?
Perhaps a pat on the ass with an IV filled with syphillis,
Or maybe we can battle after Cotton Club in February...
I'm sure to you, either prospect is just as scary,
Not smart? That's cool...poetry takes absorbance,
But your battle-rhyme was more pathetic than Bush's debate-performance,
I think what you need is just practice,
Until then I'll stomp your 2-d rhymes onto the x-axis,
Don't ask, bitch...
There's no "why?" component, I sautee and fry opponents,
Skip the next rebuttle...why don't you try attonement,
You can't escape the impact my words'll carry, Soul's a mercenary,
You're verse was "pointless"
Like a pregancy test for the Virgin Mary...
haha
c'mon man...show me somethin'...
Soul
dear soulstice,
no need to apologize/ cuz you didn't understand the messages/ it happens
when your so fucking dumb a dyslexic child has to read you all the
sentences/ i'm not surprised you took it personal/ bitches are known for
being sensitive/ and leaving the end of your lines indented doesn't mean
you've been inventive, kid/ hip hop?/ shit, for you that could only mean
a hobby/ a dress code of dragon jackets and yankee caps covered in
Kanji/ that pseudo-poetry bullshit/ "i'm deep and emotional" ho steelo/so
that when you're introduced you always stand ten feet behind your ego/
your rhymes are cliched and hackneyed/ all your punchlines roll off
hopelessly/ don't forget to look up the words I spit that you don't know
before you're quotin me/ callous and underhanded?/ that's the way that I
describe you/ jerking me off beneath a table in the cotton club/ until my
mind shoots/ then you get on stage talkin bout how you beat Misnomer/ keep
my name out your mouth/ and my nut on your rhyme folder/
I'm sorry if i insulted your poetry,
it was - so deep
naw fuck it, bitch, that shit read horribly/ and frankly no one cares
about your attempts to be literary and interesting/ maybe you should learn
about PRETENSION/ before I snap you in half like intercession/
writing your rhymes with short lines/ try to make that garbage seem
longer/ I think Essohess is tight/ and to rhyme with him's an honor/
but your rhymes are like the puke of heads who mix uppers with downers/
which is ironic/ cuz your rhymes aren't dope/ they're sold over the
counter/ so next time you wanna battle/ they sell rhyming dictionaries
at Borders/ just remember the Equinox is always coming/ and
Soulstice's days are getting shorter...
remember, this is all in fun. if you're not having fun, don't battle.
matt
haha...you're a funny guy...
don't worry, matt, embarassing you is fun for me...
You wouldn't really wanna battle in the flesh,
I'd sink my talons in ya chest, talentless pest,
I read your buttle...verdict: laughable at best,
Your lines are a mess, I should edit the sloppiness,
You suck...so where my penis is headed is obvious,
Got me pissed? Naw, actually I find it amusing,
That you find my style confusing...
Probably the result of some heinous child-abusing,
What you're concealing so much is revealing,
If I hand you your cortex,
Will you get in touch with your feelings?
You asked for a blaze, but i'll only burn you a candle,
That last rhyme only earned you sample,
Perhaps another beating and you can learn by example,
I'll act as teacher, knock ass to back of the bleachers,
Poetry? Rap? ...you're neither,
You're the only "emcee" to still write rhymes in trapper-keeper,
You can't stand an inner-vision, so I'll brand you with some diction,
And beat ya ass so long you'll demand an intermission,
Punk, stand at attention,
"I'm the one asking the questions" like the Spanish Inquisition,
Damn this indecision, which method will kill him quickest?
Perhaps a pat on the ass with an IV filled with syphillis,
Or maybe we can battle after Cotton Club in February...
I'm sure to you, either prospect is just as scary,
Not smart? That's cool...poetry takes absorbance,
But your battle-rhyme was more pathetic than Bush's debate-performance,
I think what you need is just practice,
Until then I'll stomp your 2-d rhymes onto the x-axis,
Don't ask, bitch...
There's no "why?" component, I sautee and fry opponents,
Skip the next rebuttle...why don't you try attonement,
You can't escape the impact my words'll carry, Soul's a mercenary,
You're verse was "pointless"
Like a pregancy test for the Virgin Mary...
haha
c'mon man...show me somethin'...
Soul
dear soulstice,
no need to apologize/ cuz you didn't understand the messages/ it happens
when your so fucking dumb a dyslexic child has to read you all the
sentences/ i'm not surprised you took it personal/ bitches are known for
being sensitive/ and leaving the end of your lines indented doesn't mean
you've been inventive, kid/ hip hop?/ shit, for you that could only mean
a hobby/ a dress code of dragon jackets and yankee caps covered in
Kanji/ that pseudo-poetry bullshit/ "i'm deep and emotional" ho steelo/so
that when you're introduced you always stand ten feet behind your ego/
your rhymes are cliched and hackneyed/ all your punchlines roll off
hopelessly/ don't forget to look up the words I spit that you don't know
before you're quotin me/ callous and underhanded?/ that's the way that I
describe you/ jerking me off beneath a table in the cotton club/ until my
mind shoots/ then you get on stage talkin bout how you beat Misnomer/ keep
my name out your mouth/ and my nut on your rhyme folder/
I'm sorry if i insulted your poetry,
it was - so deep
naw fuck it, bitch, that shit read horribly/ and frankly no one cares
about your attempts to be literary and interesting/ maybe you should learn
about PRETENSION/ before I snap you in half like intercession/
writing your rhymes with short lines/ try to make that garbage seem
longer/ I think Essohess is tight/ and to rhyme with him's an honor/
but your rhymes are like the puke of heads who mix uppers with downers/
which is ironic/ cuz your rhymes aren't dope/ they're sold over the
counter/ so next time you wanna battle/ they sell rhyming dictionaries
at Borders/ just remember the Equinox is always coming/ and
Soulstice's days are getting shorter...
remember, this is all in fun. if you're not having fun, don't battle.
matt