Yo, yo, uh yi-yi-yo . . . yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, uh yi-yi-yo . . . chicka chicka . . . yo . . . 1, 2 . . . 1, 2 . . .
^^^^Are you serious . . .^^^^
Yo kid, are you that wack, you think that whining diss will scare me??/
Looks like Mother Goose done bought a fucking rhyming dictionary//
You claim you're hot, but I'll make your heat as cool as Artic cold/
Since your punchlines dont exist, you try to fool us with your flow//
Hit the Wackness Emergency Center, you need help on assembling similes/
And when this battles closed, you'll remember me like a memory//
If you wanna race in this river of flow, I'll make you row-ho (Rojo) like Jose/
My verse will cut ya lines, like when passings allowed on roadways//
I'll fix ya mind frame, like an intellectual car shop/
I crush these toaster (gun) toting emcees everytime that I pop tarts//
You wanna hit me with your flow, well Ima smack you with the same/
so you get scared as soon I perform the action of your name//
Your wordplay really blows, just like a potent elixir/
I spit Ludacris rhymes so they throw bo's that will hit ya//
Your verse has too much filler, like the commercials in pictures (movies)/
One half's aight, the other belongs in Poetic Scriptures//
Ya verse sounds like it was keyed, by retarded piano teachers/
and ya rhymes were never hot, so I don't bother with heatseekers//
You say ya skill's high like helium, so I gotta assume its lighter/
Cause I'm throwin up more verses than verbal bulimic biters//
I'll prove you're pussy when my lines rob you of your panties/
then I'll expose your true essense, like J-Lo's body at the Grammys//
My words are beating you Down, like I'm seizing the South,
I'll spit verses on your toothbrush, now I really got my REACH in your mouth//
I'm filled with spit like my throat hurts, so I gotta be sick/
You verse was wack (whacked), like the actions of gangs in mafia flicks//
Yo Skillz, this cat is garbage, yo who am I gonna fight next??/
This is a text battle dummy not audio, fuck a Mic Check.//
. . . sizzle . . .
Good Battle Mic Check . . . uppin . . . explained votes please . . .