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View Full Version : Midwest Round 1: 5. Soul Strike vs 12. Cool_Caliber


trap.
02-02-2013, 05:50 PM
Soul Strike:

You`re wayyyyy overweight son, and grinning like clowns do,
But i'm battlin` at 180lbs, cos this is what winning 'comes down to'
And it`s the fists that'll pound you, watch me commit the deadliest foul,
I'm the reason your cornerman's carrying a body bag instead of a towel,
You've studied my every move, and still cant learn what winning is,
Your on my nuts so much, they're checking my 'sperm for fingerprints'
So forget your term of innocence, i'll beat you in insane ways,
Then salute victory by ripping your head off ...call it a brain-wave,
And whilst the pain stays, i'll quickly just severe your spleen,
It's funny, you arrived with your fans but left with the medical team,
I battle with incredible schemes, so I ask ..is this begginer able?
Cos he wouldn't 'step up to the plate' standing on the dinner table,
You fuckin` homosexual, dont even tell me your dissing me...
Cos i'll take U out the 'tourney' like Sime has a spelling deficeincy,
You haven't won in years, so why did you even start to rap?
The only way you'll end your 'losing run' is with a heart attack,
YOU first round.. what type of path is that? It's food for thought,
Losing's very depressing and I guess your 'not in the mood' to talk,
And Vadik.. choose your chalk ..cos it figures that your next,
You can blame 'Caliber' when I kill you, he 'triggered my success'
I'm bigger and i'm blessed, call me Jesus ..I believe in the Bible,
And since he's ranked 12th ...i'll treat the 'seeds as disciples'
Judas, your in need of the title, but to be honest ..that's a joke I think,
Cos your skillz are 'harder to see' than the valentines voting link,
OH! for real! you look dope in pink, nahh ..i'm foolin` round,
I'm so hot ..the crowd peform the 'mexican wave' to cool me down
And i'm 'packing more heat' than satans suitcase, his fork and pit,
So the next time you want props ..bring your mothers walking stick,
Your just talk and shit, 'on the looks' of things ..I dont need to try,
Cos YOU wont go face to face ..since the devil gave me the 'evil eye'
I hope you believe in my.. talent, that'll make you burst clown,
Cos i'm battlin` to the very end ..you? ..well ..the first round,
Your really an amateur ..lacking both the skill and the stamina,
So i'mma throw 'all kinds of shit at you' like a fight between janitors,
I'm type to just damage ya, so whose my next challenger?
I didn`t grab the 'sword from the stone' ..I took out the ex-Caliber..


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cool_caliber:

Dear Shadows-Of-Darkness AKA Sod AKA Soul Strike,

Introducing…

Steppin' to racists while placin' shadows of darkness upon faces.
Displacin' SOD with father cases so now you're 'up' in the races.
I'm replacin' souls with X's and Y's, why even try to de-face this.
Cus u wouldn't be sick with my own chromosome arrangements.
My traces will blaze ur face lit, kids' under fire saying his graces.
Grazing with maces, erasing this knight with his sword adjacent.
Makin' the earth split when I spit quick to disturb this herb bitch.
Cus like paraplegics wit an itch this kid can't scratch the surface.
Plurging the fact that u got butterfingers, can't even catch a cab.
So I plan to stab and slit this fag n'til both of my fists need a rag.
Reading the mag as I grab 'heads' and put ur neck on the 'lines'.
Then throw the book at you so SOD can catch up with tha 'time'.
Binding crooks and placing this nook in my plans, laying the plot.
Then stop'n in texas to vex his chest in, SOD in a state-of-shock.
Decaying the cot when using the mic, so I'm bruising this 'night'.
And Sod refuses to write plane so I type lanes choosing his flight.
Doing what's Wright build'n aircrafts, push'n em out the air shaft.
Then lighting your verse n'til Smokey burst, trying to bear laughs.
Tear raps and grab ur skeletal system, listen, im bad to the bone.
Crashin' ur dome, making a project by puttin' ur back to ur home.
Actions are blown to bits and pieces as I'm depletin' the keenest.
A Cal defeating? Sod gotta be 'kid in me' like a demanding fetus.
I'm Jesus the way I'm snipping your manhood like crotch cutters.
Kids a Parkay commercial, slipping & I cant believe its not butter.
Rot shutters the way I constantly breeze thru these weak dudes.
My verses' blessin' this soul with an effortless stroll, sneezing you.
Seize'n with ease cos shadow'll always be b'hind, his name agrees.
Shame to see SOD locked and busting caps when laying the keys.
I'm playing my beats when I wrap this 'which in baglets of plastic.
Clapping this bitch n'til his only 'PP' is left on dicks from past piss.
Blasting thy name so he can say it in vein, I'm defeating this god.
And then I'll kill you twice in the first round, jus to even the odds.

adiOs!

Sincerely, Caliber of LS.


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Final:
Soul Stike (21) - cool_caliber (0)