Rawest rap battles thread

[Surell]

It's good to know you got enough cash for a thesaurus
"Adjudicate" motherfucker I know spell check is your Lord
There you go talkin ass and dick like I'm the one that likes the shit
Hop off the carousel, Freud can hear you projectin from his ditch
And you keep talkin BK I might call a crip to dump a clip
And I ain't bout the violence but seein your guts spill might be a trip
Nah I'm bullshittin I'd pull out your nails for the hell of it
Remove your fingers and your tongue so you might never tell of it
This bullshit your kickin kid I ain't likin the smell of it
Like your mama's wet pussy, I'm the type to get the pussy whipped
You and Em a couple roaches tryna play exterminator
Might fuck around and bug out like the cat from Naked Lunch
In closin, keep posin and I'll treat like Vogue and
Shoot you in the face, do a nose job pro bono

[toosik]

whoa, calm down, don't do nothin drastic son,
you aint got a gun, nah, none, not even a plastic one.
i feel bad for you, but you're brave to carry on in spite of severed dreams,
in spite of the fact you're the worst mc i've ever seen,
perhaps that's the reason why you pleasure teens, and treasure screams,
and visit s & m clubs in nothing but your leather jeans.
plus a pair of nipple clamps, and electrodes on your testicles,
you keep saying that your gangsta, but to be honest i'm a bit skepticle,
you might impress young boys with that but i'm less susceptible,
so if you stepped up to me your face would get less symetrical.
on top of sh.it rhymes your chats aren't even humorous,
but my rhymes be flying high, so you can call me cumulus,
your lyrics are just repetitive but mine are fuc.king numerous,
so when i'm battling you i can afford to be unscrupulous.

[Surell]

Hold up hold up hold up hold up hold up
Call a pimp repetitive and you use gay jokes like a fat kid eats fruit roll ups
Drastic and plastic, pfft, don't make me rip off your mask
I'm sadistic and I'll make you like this shit like a masochist
I seen you off in Mr. S' with three cats in your ass
And while you was goin under I left a tat opposite your knee cap
So don't forget it, I got you marked for life, marked for death
Scary ass bears like you get mirked steppin to marksmen

[toosik]

once again, the quality of you rhymes made you look like a dunce my friend,
plus you've been using the computer without your mum's consent,
if i had to rate your flows i'd have to give 'em one percent,
in fact you're the worst mc i think i've ever come against.
the oldest boy you've ****ed was still under ten,
you humped and humped and humped and humped and spunked again,
now you trawl the internet looking for even younger men,
then you fuc.king plunder them, no matter how much their bums are clenched.
you seem to get sh.itter with every verse you spit,
maybe you need to slow your sh.it, you know, rehearse a bit,
otherwise in this battle you'll be the first to quit,
so i read your novel and saw it's even worse than this.
it's too pretentious, using long words just for the sake of it,
i'm sorry surell, i don't mean to take the mick,
i see you all bent out of shape now like a paper clip,
but all that time it took you to write that tripe, mate you wasted it.

[Surell]

Still passin out the same shit like you're handin out some fliers
Tryna get people to notice is like pullin teeth with broke pliers
They say if you want change then you're gonna change
Lil homie open up some streams, your shit's startin to stagnate
I don't even gotta read a whole verse
I know it goes "you're whack, i'm not, and btw you're a pervert"
And you run to the dictionary to load up on some new words
And come back here, rearrange the same ideas, and proceed to purge
Please lil homie I'm only harsh cuz I care
Not about a whack motherfucker but about polluting artistic air
Cuz I got more goin on in a single strain of hair
Than you got goin on in your so called career
You're too sick relevant to a cold, youngun behold
The black death's return, reepin what you've sewn
So when the scythe's on your neck and you whimper your last words
Give em a bit more thought than you did these whack verses

[Mr November]

if you say my verse is whack
i don't diss cataracts
like your grandfathers cadillac
driving down the middle of the street
White, Black, White, Black, White, Black

my verses are the worst
from birth, I'm like cursed
born with lips pursed
don't let out any change

rap is not my game
too shy for fame
and my ego's like gone

can't take shots at phantoms
and if you do it's never random
drug related probably
and in a country without sovereignty
it's rotting me, and rotting you too
end comes too soon
or not soon enough depending on if you'll call my bluff
that I'm all out of rhymes.

[Surell]

Good to see some fresh blood jumpin in
But watch out or get jumped out and you can get back to thumpin
I mean like rabits, don't make dissin a habit
OR you can get merced by your own hand like heroin addicts

btw toosik happy to hear you ain't like my shit
Better than havin stupid motherfuckers take a likin to it
Yeah I'm real bent out of shape I used words you couldn't grasp
Now that's pretentious, actin like your handicaps are cuz of what I lack

[toosik]

you do know this site is called 'music banter'?
cos one more chat like that from you they'll have to rename it useless wan.ker,
i know you like to think you some kind of acoustic gangster,
but you're just gay, a row of fuc.king tents couldn't do this camper.
you do know the definition of a rhyme, right?
you think you're in the limelight, but the time's ripe,
to tell you that you rhyme sh.ite, almost childlike,
get back to watching twilight, cos in hindsight,
the only highlight, would be me facing you in a firefight.
you're life is finite, so when i got you in my eyesight,
you can try to fight, but you still gonna die tonight.
but don't feel sad, give your eyes a wipe, and sniff another line of white.

[Surell]

You take off five days and come back with that shit?
Kid just kill yaself I'm set to do my shmoney dance on your casket
Look your mama in her eyes while she weep over her loss
But really what she lose? A worthless, self-deluded little tosser
If rhyme schemes were what made a rapper real ill
Then we would see phonemes and nonsense prevail
But naw kid, you got the game twisted
Like left foot on blue and reach around on red
Please youngun treat this rap game with some respect
Treat it like art, what you're doin is neglect
And I'm the Rap Game Dick Tracy, whack fuckers get arrested
Good news for you, I know a communal showers get you all wet

[toosik]

You're the rap game's Dick Tracey? Sh.it matey, I think that's a bit hasty,
You sucked your daddy off just to see if a dick's tasty.
You want me to quit? Well Bit.ch Make me,
You've been such a prick lately,
I'm toosik, I thought you knew it, I could do this til I hit 80,
But for now fu.ck it I'll just see where this spit takes me.
If you think I'm joking when I say you're sh.it you mistake me,
So if I did decide to take you out you wouldn't be missed greatly.
Your rhymes are so weak at first I assumed it was a pi.ss take b,
But you are actually trying aren't you, so even though rapping is something you can't do,
You get so sad your lips quake, then give your Dick a shake til your wrists are achey.
Working shifts late, at burger king cos you love how their chips are tasty,
And when you finally get home even though it's late you make a mix tape.
But it drips with hate, you wish fate, would make toosik break, please,
So when I defeat you again you just drink til you're sh.it faced geez.
Surell, you can be sure as well, that he's poor as hell.
I would say we'll settle our scores in hell,
But that'd mean being near you and I couldn't endure the smell.