Rap Battle Thread

[Den-in-NH]

You want to know what I never thought I'd see?
A Patriots fan who calls himself a damn Yankee
Does he think this is 1776 and he's livin' in a colony?
OK then, get ready for a lynchin', I'm throwin' a rope over a tree
You think you can bring it, well try steppin' up to me

I've seen most everything before and I've destroyed all types
But never a New Englander who clads himself in pinstripes
I'm sick of your whinin', your bitchin' and your incessant gripes
So I'm gonna spin your head so bad, you'll think you were hittin' glass pipes
You're gonna shit yourself, better grab a stash of baby wipes

If you haven't figured it out, I'm talkin' to you Fanatic
You say your from here, but you've never even tasted haddock
You may know your stats 'cuz you've got a computer in Mom's attic
Well that won't save you from attack, you're now on my barrack
When I'm done with you you're gonna look worse than John Merrick

So if you think you can hang try to come back at me, son
But try to avoid another needless history lesson
'Cuz I don't care if you're a Bostonian, New Yorker or Texan
I may be just playin' but I definately ain't messin'
Just be aware my words haved kill more than Smith & Wesson

 

[Den-in-NH]

Where you at boy, don't you have anything to say?
Don't tell me you didn't see this, you were on for like nine hours today
Thought you had some skills, well spit it, and put 'em on display
The ball's in your court, so tell Mommy you're goin' out to play
And if you're worried about it, I promise not to joke about you being gay

You said you never turned away from a rap battle
So time to cowboy up and time to get in the saddle
Or dont'cha wanna mess with a cobra when you can hear its rattle?
But I'm hungry for a steak and you're lookin' like cattle
I know you're up Shit's Creek, so here, I'll throw you a paddle

Come and try to catch some of the shit that I toss
But don't call me "brother", instead just call me "boss"
This is just a game so don't be afraid of your inevitable loss
Admission's free, you don't even have to worry about the cost
But you may get chased out of town just as fast as Randy Moss

But you probably just realize that I'm clearly your lyrical better
I'm rabid like Michael Vick's dog and I'm off my damn tether
I'll lay you out like Todd Heap took it from Brandon Meriweather
It'll take all the King's Men and Horses to try and piece you back together
I'm heavy like a ton of bricks and you're light as a chicken's feather

But if you think you're up to it, try and walk the walk
Stop lookin' at internet porn and put away the gym socks
I know you're scared, you're shakin' just like Michael J. Fox
But it'll be okay, I'm miles away, and all I can do is talk
And if you need help maybe you'll find yourself a box of rocks