[trap.]

vs Structure

My text premieres to a full audience while your shit’s vacant,
Structure?? What, was MC Abercrombie and Fitch taken?/
You saw me and fled, too bad you’re already dead,
Funny, the one named Structure never makes quality threads/
Enough about clothes. Bring your fans, I’ll leave you herbs humbled,
And you’ll be getting on your niece quicker than perverse uncles/
Desperately trying to climb the ranks, give this bitch a ladder,
‘Imma swing and leave Struc out’ like a pessimistic batter/
I’ve seen him out with guys, this homo gets date raped,
To ‘graph’ your wackness I’ll need 3 walls and a boatload of spray paint/
My verse is ‘Damn.’ First reason…my rhymes are insane,
Second, yours is the flood of wackness that mine’s trying to contain/
Girls are showing interest to bone Structure. I don’t believe this,
Oh wait, that only means the bitches are training to be orthopedists/
You’ll never get laid with that face, hair looks purposely fucked…
…Now I hear you wanna diet orange like sugarfree Crush?/
Good God man, you’re the freak of all freaks,
So musically impaired, you need a translator to speak to the beat/


vs Craven

I’m gonna murder you bitch, start aborting the pro league,
Imma leave your boys droppin’ consecutive 40’s like Kobe/
We battled in a non-smoking area, and flowed in the street,
So when I smoked the fag in public, police told me to leave/
Now let’s get serious, you’re an ugly queer with an awful smell,
So hideous that after one session your webcam uninstalled itself/
You’re the Lakers groupie wanting Derrick’s balls on your face,
Shouting “Hey Fisher, cast your line, my mouth’s calling for bait”/
Honestly, would you rather have a dick to slurp or a cock to taste?
For once though, make up your mind and not your face/
You drag-wearing loser, there’s no flow in your bars,
I HAD to use fake personals, no-one knows who you are/
Yeah, you beat FreeQ last week, but that’s far from compelling,
It’s real tough ousting Jodeci singles with alternate spellings/


vs Mathematixs

Imma start the madness by clapping this punk bitch,
Sime paired you against me. Did you kill his family or someshit?
1>16…people will instantly say “you can’t solve that!”
Read the battle…high school’s not the only time that I bombed Math/
I tear rebels, cut ‘em up like rare metals,
When I aim, I’m ‘Collin the Bullseye’ like Farel in DareDevil/
This is a prizefight…and the purse is a million in wads and stacks,
Although you made it clear that you’re after the purse and not the cash/
First cross-dresser I’ve battled. Why send a pic when you’ll lose?
Only pic you’ll be usin…will be your guitar’s, when you’re home singing the blues/
You came carrying some weight, but then I retired you,
Figured you’d lost so much of it now, maybe Subway would hire you/
You’re on a quest for the fame, but it’s death you’ll attain,
A true revolutionairy, look, he even added an ‘x’ to his name/
Impressed with my game? Right now your mom’s on my bone saw,
“You prefer Bush or a rack?”…told her “sorry bitch, I don’t condone war”/
Jetted quickly, though she was on my trail like a derranged assassin,
The ogre kept chasing me like I had a ring and my name was Baggins/
Let’s discuss the PBA…of which you got sent off quickly,
Dogg, I’m number 2 in the rankings, you didn’t make the top 50/
I saw your prom pic, don’t tell me you actually dated that goblin,
Imma outline Math in chalk like a teacher explaining a problem/
My blade hasn’t softened. You’ll be slain in this tourney,
And scent off early like a skunk that sprays prematurely/
Fuckin’ with Ry’s a mistake, I flow like it’s ministry,
You’ll be hanging by a thread like Megawatts’ social activities/


vs Reach 1 aka Milo

My parents took a vacation. This might come off as intruding…
But tell me about being home alone, since you starred in the movie/
Imma be bold with the facts, you look like a homo that raps,
Plus your head tilts to the side like your right shoulder collapsed/
You look overcome by fear, Imma leave you dead for the vultures,
Your nose look like it’s in a b-boy stance and reppin the culture/
Milo lookin girly. I dunno whether to face or just date her,
Only reloading he’s done is refilling a stapler with staples/
I’m the fuckin lord of rhyme, you’re an unimportant 9,
Wishing well saw who you were facing, and put up an Out Of Order sign/
Borderline gay, so Imma target this freak after cockin the heat,
For the first time in history imma say victory’s not within Reach/
Start to cover, cuz when I pic diss, your squad’ll suffer,
Fucka look like Good Charlotte singer’s retarded brother/
Only one brow pierced? You look too dumb to lie,
Tell ‘em about the second ring, the one I put around your other eye/
Milo fronts like the meanest when his physique lookin squeemish,
Wearing four layers of shirts and STILL look bulimic/
Plus a vest. Punk rocker? Naah, son plays the harmonica,
Only wearing that skully to cover his yamaka/
Your pic evokes horror and fright, Milo Lord of the Flies,
This jewish pansy gonna need more than the Torah tonight/
Let’s discuss the PBA, where you tied with Nasif,
That’s the setup AND the punch, nigga you TIED WITH NASIF/
You admitted that if you faced me…you’d get hit unconscious,
You know, you raise up a good point like Mr. And Mrs. Stockton/
This young bitch’s bones get crushed for acting grown and tough,
Auditioned for the I Can video…and they said he wasn’t old enough/
So I’ll leave you broken in therapy with one last moment of clarity
Your tourney bid ended when I auctioned off your organs for charity/


vs Prowess/Answer

You're Still a novice at clownin’…
You’ve been on my cock so long it’s astoundin’
With molehills so monstrous they’ve evolved into mountains/
I brought my hiking boots though, so I don’t miss any action,
So when I skii on your face, just know it could literally happen/
Confidential material. Speak of these mole’s with discretion,
So many that the FBI’s got his whole neck under witness protection/
He must be a champion boxer, running up stairs in the loud streets,
Look how committed, he took his pic wearing his mouthpiece/
Nice painting, I expect nothing less from a fag with a big lip,
Props, that poster really captures the essence of having a picnic/
And I know you have nightmares, be honest kid…
…Wake up yelling “I don’t care about 9 out of 10 dermatologists!!”
Nice blue t-shirt. “Thanks, I think it means I’m down with a set,”
Nevermind that, just tell me why gophers burrow out of your neck/
I once had Answer in the palm of my hand like a cheating student,
Until one day he realized he fully drained me of penis fluid/
Tired of being my backpocket bitch? Or was me saying “nigga” the problem?
Gotta be the latter, his skateboard has Al Sharpton’s pic on the bottom/
You fuckin moleyard, Imma bury you for tryin ta be Malcolm,
Imma take the W like stealing the Clan’s second to last album/
You wanna get technical? Cuz trust me you’re not strong,
If you had a website, it would be dotdotdotdotdotdotdotCom