trap.
02-02-2013, 06:09 PM
Balthowsai:
My friends couldn't be here to witness the execution, so I've decided to
give Phant a beating on behalf of them all...
Elements of Destruction
(Earth Element; Avalanche)
I'll crush Phantom without clutching handguns,
Leave the weapons down;
Shit, my rep's known for wrecking clowns, in the second round.
Fake Spook, you're missing confidence, though you're asinine;
Trying to 'fish for compliments' when you don't have the 'lines'.
"But Balth, I'm past my prime, I'da won this time, I'm sure."
Yo, you wanted to see the Finals, what you thought the sideline's for?
Ripping through your mentalz, I'm explicit from the intro;
While your style's subliminal signals mixed with innuendos.
And it's simple, as your very soul rots; you're laid to rest physically;
Phantom's left in a burial 'plot', claiming conspiracy.
(Wind Element; Divine Wind)
Leave you slaughtered, maraudered, wondering why you bothered
the God, lest you're willing to be martyred by the scripts I authored
I'll bruise ya ribs, remove your limbs, the crew ya in's dismembered
as "the fag who lost to Balth's," the only way you'll be remembered
And I've entered, catered to your ego, while resolved to clown you
I'll make you my 'son' so that the world, would 'revolve' around you
Phant, ya punches are more useless, than wings on birds in oceans
cause I've had more of a challenge winning, with my first opponent
meanwhile for this herb it's hopeless, as I'll wreck this wretched hoe
for trying to win by sounding like me, but with less impressive flow
(Water Element; Tidal Flow)
Why grab the mic? Ya raps ain't tight, in fact, they're kinda loose...
claimed you're ill, yet even Franchise, just couldn't find the Proof...
Cause my rhyme in truth's, a savage steez, that I craft with ease...
though like mentioning my crew, a loss for Phant is guaranteed...
And it's apparent he's, trying his best to pose, with simple flows...
I'll make Phant disappear like AlwaysLess, back when Sethro's closed...
So check it hoe, you’ve stepped with prose, now you’ll get crucified…
for blowing ya head off sucking dicks, without attempting suicide…
Ya foolish pride in stupid rhymes are scorned, as I’m wasting you...
cause the truth’s that you’re a fake Balth like Abnorm’s a fake E2…
(Fire Element; Breath of God)
Sin. Slay. Swift.
Rebuttals punish ya to show blood bubbles when I bludgeon ya,
fuck necklaces, cause when I spit, you'd best tuck in your jugular/
Plus now I'll utter the most merciless facts, my words'll herb this cat,
as Jayson Williams I'll remove Phant from the Net(s) with murder raps/
Your verse is wack, and it's apparent that ya best renown for fiction,
since ya quips are more off point than Rygar's second round predictions/
Now ya slipping dicks in ya mouth, while scripting disses for Balth,
Phant, you're like Confederates soldiers, you can't win in the South/
Though I'm killing all doubts, you're just exposing my flow's tighter,
you call yaself a Ghost? I must be what you call the Ghost's Writer/
(For those who don't know, that's Tha Joker, Shakuan thee Assassin, ren, and
Balthowsai, respectively)
Peace.
IllaMentalz!!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Phant:
We've been through this before, time to repeat and carbon copy/
I've dropped so many Japs, my backyard looks like Nagasaki
So you're a ninja samarai karate kickjob kung fu fuckboi, huh?
Ya ninja shit is useless, Tai Chi to me is just some played charades/
So I aint scared of green belts swingin razor blades in gay parades/
I sinned AND slayed, its evident that Mr. Miagi taught ya good/
Faggot broke his hand tryin to karate chop through balsa wood/
So fuck your karate rituals, ya know I aint got no room for feelings/
When you do your pre-fight bow I'm kickin ya head straight thru the ceiling/
Ya screwed and squealing, I'll crush your whole squad--fuck ya ties/
Your colored belts are painted on and your weapons are butter knives/
Cuz otherwise, ya nothin--a washed-up and diluted disputer/
And lethal dropkicks? You can barely even 'boot your computer'
suck.my.dick.
You getting crushed nowadays, ya talent's gone and in battle, skill's essential/
True your crew is Illamentalz!!---Its just too bad you aint I'll at Mentalz/
Run of the mill credentials, ya dickride and ya crew gelled with the same ploy/
You know that you're the 'weakest Link' like Zelda for Game Boy
And now its on.....
Your scripts are sad and now my verse needs to rip this fag/
Phant in the 2nd Round??? You got a 'worse seed' than Hitler’s Dad/
Get split by Chad, got Balth more nervous than bomb-testers/
Cuz he 'cant win without byes' like bodybuilders and armwrestlers/
Disarm net-herbs, beat em with their weapons, smashin all limbs.../
Of kids whose lives 'revolve around the net' like basketball rims/
I'm stackin the wins, smackin your chin and leavin your dome blown/
'I have the heart of a champion'--I snatched it from you at HomeGrown/
You're doomed and scared, this fight isn't even assumed as fair/
You should rap in a Ziploc bag--against me, there's 'no room for error'/
Give him a brooming stare while I laugh at this schmuck and slob/
You're 28, Balth--isn't it about time that you got a fuckin job???/
So suck my rod, and watch me as I denounce your grown fame/
Never does audio cuz he cant even pronounce his own name/
Balthwaoscbetsai—the fuck's that? I'll erase ya name from ev-er-y sentence/
And watch you 'rewrite the record book'...as the new editor for Guiness/
Your dead and ya finished, so sit back and catch hooks with my fist/
And you'll roll away from this encounter with ya face lookin like this:
http://vatican.rotten.com/motorcycle/
And I know its been a while, and I'm sorry I kept you waitin/
But how many wins you got on I-net based alone on reputation?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Final:
Phant (15) - Balthowsai (1)
My friends couldn't be here to witness the execution, so I've decided to
give Phant a beating on behalf of them all...
Elements of Destruction
(Earth Element; Avalanche)
I'll crush Phantom without clutching handguns,
Leave the weapons down;
Shit, my rep's known for wrecking clowns, in the second round.
Fake Spook, you're missing confidence, though you're asinine;
Trying to 'fish for compliments' when you don't have the 'lines'.
"But Balth, I'm past my prime, I'da won this time, I'm sure."
Yo, you wanted to see the Finals, what you thought the sideline's for?
Ripping through your mentalz, I'm explicit from the intro;
While your style's subliminal signals mixed with innuendos.
And it's simple, as your very soul rots; you're laid to rest physically;
Phantom's left in a burial 'plot', claiming conspiracy.
(Wind Element; Divine Wind)
Leave you slaughtered, maraudered, wondering why you bothered
the God, lest you're willing to be martyred by the scripts I authored
I'll bruise ya ribs, remove your limbs, the crew ya in's dismembered
as "the fag who lost to Balth's," the only way you'll be remembered
And I've entered, catered to your ego, while resolved to clown you
I'll make you my 'son' so that the world, would 'revolve' around you
Phant, ya punches are more useless, than wings on birds in oceans
cause I've had more of a challenge winning, with my first opponent
meanwhile for this herb it's hopeless, as I'll wreck this wretched hoe
for trying to win by sounding like me, but with less impressive flow
(Water Element; Tidal Flow)
Why grab the mic? Ya raps ain't tight, in fact, they're kinda loose...
claimed you're ill, yet even Franchise, just couldn't find the Proof...
Cause my rhyme in truth's, a savage steez, that I craft with ease...
though like mentioning my crew, a loss for Phant is guaranteed...
And it's apparent he's, trying his best to pose, with simple flows...
I'll make Phant disappear like AlwaysLess, back when Sethro's closed...
So check it hoe, you’ve stepped with prose, now you’ll get crucified…
for blowing ya head off sucking dicks, without attempting suicide…
Ya foolish pride in stupid rhymes are scorned, as I’m wasting you...
cause the truth’s that you’re a fake Balth like Abnorm’s a fake E2…
(Fire Element; Breath of God)
Sin. Slay. Swift.
Rebuttals punish ya to show blood bubbles when I bludgeon ya,
fuck necklaces, cause when I spit, you'd best tuck in your jugular/
Plus now I'll utter the most merciless facts, my words'll herb this cat,
as Jayson Williams I'll remove Phant from the Net(s) with murder raps/
Your verse is wack, and it's apparent that ya best renown for fiction,
since ya quips are more off point than Rygar's second round predictions/
Now ya slipping dicks in ya mouth, while scripting disses for Balth,
Phant, you're like Confederates soldiers, you can't win in the South/
Though I'm killing all doubts, you're just exposing my flow's tighter,
you call yaself a Ghost? I must be what you call the Ghost's Writer/
(For those who don't know, that's Tha Joker, Shakuan thee Assassin, ren, and
Balthowsai, respectively)
Peace.
IllaMentalz!!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Phant:
We've been through this before, time to repeat and carbon copy/
I've dropped so many Japs, my backyard looks like Nagasaki
So you're a ninja samarai karate kickjob kung fu fuckboi, huh?
Ya ninja shit is useless, Tai Chi to me is just some played charades/
So I aint scared of green belts swingin razor blades in gay parades/
I sinned AND slayed, its evident that Mr. Miagi taught ya good/
Faggot broke his hand tryin to karate chop through balsa wood/
So fuck your karate rituals, ya know I aint got no room for feelings/
When you do your pre-fight bow I'm kickin ya head straight thru the ceiling/
Ya screwed and squealing, I'll crush your whole squad--fuck ya ties/
Your colored belts are painted on and your weapons are butter knives/
Cuz otherwise, ya nothin--a washed-up and diluted disputer/
And lethal dropkicks? You can barely even 'boot your computer'
suck.my.dick.
You getting crushed nowadays, ya talent's gone and in battle, skill's essential/
True your crew is Illamentalz!!---Its just too bad you aint I'll at Mentalz/
Run of the mill credentials, ya dickride and ya crew gelled with the same ploy/
You know that you're the 'weakest Link' like Zelda for Game Boy
And now its on.....
Your scripts are sad and now my verse needs to rip this fag/
Phant in the 2nd Round??? You got a 'worse seed' than Hitler’s Dad/
Get split by Chad, got Balth more nervous than bomb-testers/
Cuz he 'cant win without byes' like bodybuilders and armwrestlers/
Disarm net-herbs, beat em with their weapons, smashin all limbs.../
Of kids whose lives 'revolve around the net' like basketball rims/
I'm stackin the wins, smackin your chin and leavin your dome blown/
'I have the heart of a champion'--I snatched it from you at HomeGrown/
You're doomed and scared, this fight isn't even assumed as fair/
You should rap in a Ziploc bag--against me, there's 'no room for error'/
Give him a brooming stare while I laugh at this schmuck and slob/
You're 28, Balth--isn't it about time that you got a fuckin job???/
So suck my rod, and watch me as I denounce your grown fame/
Never does audio cuz he cant even pronounce his own name/
Balthwaoscbetsai—the fuck's that? I'll erase ya name from ev-er-y sentence/
And watch you 'rewrite the record book'...as the new editor for Guiness/
Your dead and ya finished, so sit back and catch hooks with my fist/
And you'll roll away from this encounter with ya face lookin like this:
http://vatican.rotten.com/motorcycle/
And I know its been a while, and I'm sorry I kept you waitin/
But how many wins you got on I-net based alone on reputation?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Final:
Phant (15) - Balthowsai (1)