Sweet 16: Wrath

[trap.]

Battle: Wrath vs Wilson Fisk
Round: 1
Winner: Tie
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Wrath

Fresh off the top I slug a brisk fist/
battle bliss kiss the face of Mista Fisk/
scream the infamous name aloud "Wrath" to kill the pain/
I'll de-frame your brain membranes with verbal cells pushing microscopic planes/
old-time cliche rhymes display your simple mind /
matched up to mine so you dislike SIMPLESIME/
outshine you anytime, dumb deaf OR blind/
so opt the fuck out this professional bout/
and take the amateur route to your perceptible doubts/
my lyrics are hotter than lava spouts/
gushing out the core of my dome/
fancier than Doric columns of ancient Rome/
deeper than the bottomless abysmal red sea/
I'm smoking herbal leaves off eternal redwood trees/
to prophesize your life amidst deadly degrees/
you produce your seeds begging me please to end their needs/
I drop them fendless into endless dreams/
of your queen sponging these on bended knees/
squeamishly you freeze to an early winter breeze/
fold to shades of light bolder than falling autumn leaves/
no treason, speaking of seasons, I make a fifth/
3 months of lyrical bliss, hailing on your premises/
with elements more oblivious than Egyptian elegance/
my sixth sense will socialize and ignobilize your essence/
as you re-organize to de-vocalize my presence/
ANY sentence above was born to tear you till your torn/
my metaphors are fully armed to make you mourn your last tourn/
so I'll make this last run ill son/ within the heart of pure myst/ put a
dagger through your WILSON/ and a dart to your FISK/ a


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Wilson Fisk


Vandal1824, aka, Willy Fisk
dare approach me bitch, I'll play you like a floppy disk,
go ahead, take a risk, and I'll frisk your pants pockets,
blow your spot up like rockets and then black your eye sockets,
no doubt you'll feel MY wrath, son you'd better check yo' math, those
equations don't compute, best to choose anotha' path,
cause I got this one sewed, so take a different road,
been fuckin niggaz up since the first time I flowed, my record?
flawless. opponents? jawless,
see my skillz is thick like that trick Lucy Lawless,
yo, tell me....how's it feel to be knocked out first round??
step off little boy, don't try to give me a pound,
got no love for those foes and hoes whose rhymes ain't comin tight,
man if your lyrics was ears, MIKE TYSON WOULDN"T BITE,
aiight, I delight, cuz in this fight, you meet defeat,
as for your verse, check the keyboard, now hit delete,
nice try...but try again, take it back to the lab,
use those lyrics on the street? in real ciphers catch a jab,
or a stab.....I'll slice your mic device, precise, quik fast,
it only took 20 lines for me to COLD WHOOP YO' ASS......punk nigga