
Originally Posted by
_SBU
it's good stuff man? damn, thanks.
yours is bad, it's bland, you're wack.
I'll open your mind; you'll split and you'll crack,
you'll develop a stutter and your will will collapse.
my pen game's sharper; I chisel the raps.
I etch my texts on obsidian slabs.
classic rhymes came back in time, I'm past pen and paper,
I'm heard about by word of mouth with more lore than legislature.
holler 'cause.. you say you're slaying lines but you're just gassin',
Ann' Frankly you need to keep quiet for more than a minute.. dumb tactics.
you've lost a lot so just stop and acknowledge it.
no verbal bullets but you bust on some hollow tip.
you're packing magazines, I'm a novelist.
I'm a pro and your prose is a con, coz we're opposites.
I'm undescribeable. I'm not nondescript.
you lack that class. columbine alumni, no scholarship.
you're stopping to shake like a dog in the rain, lost and afraid,
baring your teeth coz you're constantly chased.
my modesty's safe; to say I'm great's an understatement.
straight from the gates I'd slain a hundred angels.
this ATL-ant-is captive trapped in sunken chambers.
word is born, you've lost it. loveless labor.
the text's as eloquent as Mercutios death throes,
since it's verbal bullets I'll Cap-u,-lets go.
I'm the cause of your folks split, I thought you ought to know about it:
my script's sick.. a plague on both your houses.
you don't seem deep just by referencing shakespeare, the move's too blatent.
..it shakes peers when I shake spears like zulu nation.
you're hardly the bard but you get barred from bars though,
it's dark as when bats-hit, his raps stink like guano.
this rap impacts and his is an imp act, we're mismatched.
I write Tyler diss raps. he clicks 'Thanks'.
he spins words without even speaking? it's mental.
my flow's like smoke that arose from the temples.
your flow's choked.. but you're menstrual,
and only switch it up coz your style's a rental.
but you should hire a book binder;
I've seen your script and it looks spineless.
you've lost the plot like your drop's got parts missing,
..blind with no mind of your own or heart in it.
your honor's lost, wandered off. you 'bottled' lots.
mine's coming hot off the top like a molotov.
higher, returning from burning the firmament,
my frees are off the leash like I'm cerberus.
you get it so wrong that your lyrics are funny.
you're not off the leash, you're a mischievous puppy.
you're not a proper writer or a lyricist. you're not a biter, just nibbling.
seems tyler likes to be beaten, sins for kicks. he owns a leash? the gimp's equipped.
seems you need to put heart in it Tyler,
liar, I'm revoking your artistic license.
I'm brutally roofless; no need for this 'Tiler'.
I put in work to break it down like a grinder.
my style's" considered as free coz it's priceless..
my punches'll help you to shine like I'm Midas..
you're softer than gold, more faces than cut diamond;
you're not deep or even underground, you're just minor.
I've got to pay dues and for you it's unkindness,
grabbing rap by the balls like a bad umpire.
you chat breeze but it's refreshing, I'm a hot rapper.
you whine though, so flow like every drop matters.
you're a tragic youth, you'll go all out next time? bad excuse.
I write like each drops my last and the passion grew.
to battle me needs strategy. I've not got any plans for you,
you just go beserk lacking tactical attributes.