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a perfect imperfection...
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IP:
been working on a stupid school thing ALL DAY, so here ya go, kinda threw it together in 20 minutes...
Crunch your skills in bunches, like the back of Notre Dame I gotta “hunch” that what I spit turns to gold like Midas’s touches :: your skill comes poor like street hobos without lunches, because you came with a flow but you forgot to add punches // 1
Spit reverse curses so you’ll be Born To Die, I arrive with quick spits that flick in ur eyes, surmise a battle surprise to simmer ur cries :: Born tries to devise ties that’ll help his skills rise, even with I.L.L allies I got ur retinas crossed so u cant “keep ur eyes on the prize” // 2
Beat you once, Ill do it again, bend solar eclipses to send scars you can’t mend, transcend levels you can’t even comprehend :: with flows that reprimand what you send, Born can’t fend off his losing trend, at age 33 on a rapbattle site, he must not have many friends // 3
Refuse to lose, I confuse you and enter ur psyche, couldn’t “speak ur mind” if you had two heads and one mic :: more fruitier than a bag of Mike N’ Ikes, born likes to bring beginner basics like training wheels on a bike // 4
Punches are like from a blind boxer cuz they always miss, dismiss your style cuz its more lost than the city of Atlantis :: fix my lips to spit rhyme and mind bliss to rewind time, I must be doing a mass the way I got you praying more than the mantis (praying mantis) // 5
Toss you this loss simply, couldn’t spit sacred if u were Jesus on the cross, Born couldn’t get “revved up” for this battle if he inhaled Nos :: couldn’t “catch” my rhymes if he was Randy Moss or so I’m told, you could put ur spit in BOLD and still couldn’t get ur point across // 6
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