The Postseason of Board 8 RAP BATTLE: tha LEAGUE 2 Tournament.
~Postseason~[]
Battle 81: (12) Seginustemple vs. (5) AlecTrevelyan006[]
~The Score~
SeginusTemple: 5
AlecTrevelyan006: 2
~The Raps~
Seg
I woke up ripped, booze sipped, still battle hard, no whiskey ****
lick lips, liquor mixed, spit this at double o six
eyes so bleary I'm havin trouble spellin Trevelyan
but soon I, amplify to be bellerin rebellion
I'm well on my way to rest you in piece like walden pond
just more abusive, like your balding dad beating down your balding mom
you revere all things gold and long, of the phallic you are fond
but fear my flow like I said "hello Alec, my name's Bond"
Your face is scarred but I aint scurred, *****, this just written word
I'm crazy in digital ink, preferred drink shaken and absurd
and when spurred to action I'll just rap your ass off a satellite
I'm sure this battle will be bright, but that's only 'cause your prattle's light
Alec
Guess Seg's the new Lovecraft, that rap's horrific as Cthulhu
But I don't need the Necronomicon if I wanna subdue you
With flow so damn sick, I'm rappin' bubonic, I spit pure demonic,
While you're spewing **** like you tried high colonic
While you're plenty ambitious and your rise is auspicious,
You can't beat the master at spittin' pernicious and vicious
Can't expect this Inquisition, boy I'm rap's Torquemada,
While you got flair but you're doomed like the Spanish Armada
You're at a loss vs one so boss, we don't fight til after Ridley
You're just a joke like MLS, while I'm rappin Real Madrid, B
It's clear rappin ain't your thing, why not just leave the ring
Cuz in this battle you'll get beat so bad you'll envy Rodney King
Seg
damn cuz, I was careening on gin and juice, junked "just because"
but you dulled my buzz, bloodstream clean, eye was gleaming fuzzed
week's peak is so weak sober, unique as halloween in october
moreover you drove me to harangue you, transmit pangs of hangover
and drive you to hell in a range rover pimp enough to have a nerd scared
I say that knowing you were history, but a buff I wasn't aware
must be tough to fare typing from under the grade eight history desk
no mystery you made a reference relate to purple dragons, so ertyuesque
by virtue I'm grotesque, like some raptured fiction monster deity
H.R. Giger would be eager to capture my horrific spontaneity
A mass of flesh and metallic tendrils squirming with fearsome violence
Comfirming the end is fresh for Alec, hey ass, for once let's hear some silence
Alec
It reeks of desperation when you attack my education
But it's no revelation that you've no future in oration
You rap ain't got no heart, like it needs defibrillation
Did you take the Trail of Tears, cuz your lines show reservation
In his tourney debut poor Seg won't get rave reviews
You're adieu's overdue, here's your career's Waterloo
I'm the true rappin' legend, a hundred *****es in queue
Having sex like Ikea cuz I got extra screws
How you got here is a mystery, better call Sherlock Holmes
But soon you'll be just history, like scandals of Teapot Domes
No flow, no skill, fail only, you're like Final Destination
See it only took a Seg for this Temple's desecration
Battle 82: (9) Swif7y vs. (8) RolltheBones[]
~The Score~
Swif7y: 8
RolltheBones: 0
~The Raps~
Swif7y
my name is swif7y and I'm the best and you fear it.
my rap attacks the soul so forget the body, wear a vest for your spirit.
the crown is mine and I'll murk you if I see you next to or near it.
comprehend, Roll? well, i got some more info and I stress you to hear it.
it's been charted that I'm winning and you ain't starting surprise endings.
when it comes to this tourney you're outta the picture quicker than Marty McFly's siblings.
this is slightly a BYE, listen, few combine pen and camera shows.
my vivid imagery is '****in rare', like witnessing two living pandas, bone!
get it, bone? I'm in the zone with chords in wrists and mics for fists.
my existence alone will replace the faith of an atheist with this amazing diss.
you'll need an aids assist to take a piss, you're real soft with your cadences.
and your jaw droppers are only sick cause of yawnings contagiousness.
RolltheBones
Here we are, rookie star making his playoff debut
Swif7y wanted to set the bar but now that he’s through,
We can see the lyrical failings that he foolishly calls a career,
I’ll easily be prevailing against his shortcomings seen here.
I’m a Soldier first-class, here to harass and surpass this lass
Swif7y, kick his ass with sass and lyrical genius en masse.
When I’m done, you’ll see you’ve jumped the gun thinking you’ve won
I’ve only just begun, respect- you’ve earned none, you’ve been outdone.
Each line I intertwine with a rhyme that’s aged and fine like wine
Make my opponent whine like swine while he’s forced to resign.
See I’m too quick, far too slick with rhymes that always click:
Make you sick, you’ll gag like your chick when she ****s my ****.
Swif7y
your forced and RUSHed rhymes won't go, smart foes refuse to post those.
battling swif7y like that is a grave error... like misspelling tombstones.
...but what do you know? you'll get hit from 'all directions' when battling me.
cause emcee's like RolltheBones who front get left right in back of me.
you're whack to me, i'm heartless. the harshest, straight tearing your cartilage.
murder you with this verse and make your ghost bury your carcass.
cause in my world only psycho's matter, so i write with daggers.
use my opponents skin as a canvas to script my mindless chatter.
i'm a rapper and you lack the tactics to attack this drastic.
wrote to this crap erratic with 10 minutes till it's tagged as tragic.
somebody gag this ****** with a mouthful of rags and maggots.
then put him on the street and sell his 'cracked bones' to addicts.
RolltheBones
It’s round two already, and I see you’re back at it again,
Makin’ me combine paper and pen like Barbie and ken,
See I don’t need hard concepts, I’ll beat you with lines
About plastic dolls: the most juvenile of rhymes.
And still these fans make me a prophet – their messiah,
While your empty threats of violence make you a pariah.
I’m Jesus Christ, back from the dead after just three days,
Let the public gaze while my lines continue to amaze
From beyond the grave that my body apparently made
While my words give aid to another ****ing crusade
Against fake emcee’s who decide to oppose me,
Grab nine inch nails and crucify you to the olive tree.
Battle 83: (10) Xtremeblur vs. (7) Ed Bellis[]
~The Score~
XtremeBlur: 6
Ed Bellis: 4
~The Raps~
Blur
From the horizon rides a foreigner into the territories sanctioned by King Bellis
With a captivating orchestra marrying rhythm, sophistication, and malice
A hip-hop connoisseur - adorer of the finer arts, not the impoverished relics
He's come to conquer the kingdom, segue to the part that Charles I is beheaded helpless
Because I'm overtaking this king, so alert all the men you can
That your conquering I bring as a gift from a faraway land
See I write murder in shorthand and cue assassinations via penstrokes alone
Expanding my work to span empires as planned - turn your throne into a tombstone
Now the bonds have been severed, James, and the dukes, well I've nuked 'em all
Let Blur resume his reign, and when you're through, death will beckon its call
I've gained the buroughs, Aeris, and even the barons have begun to understand
Thy kingdom, done, thy defeat has come, in Rap Battle as it did '45 Japan
Ed
That most pitiful and painful excuse for an opening retort
Was xtremely disappointing and yet mercifully short
King Bellis finds you in contempt and holds you in rap court
Blur has yet to realize that my kingdom’s far too vast
With rhymes more dizzying and devastating than Sonic 3D Blast
Hit him with a lyrical Omnislash, callin me Overcast
The only coup you’ve staged is a battle against good taste
Ended up hip-deep in self-made sludge, lyrical waste
Gon’ take what little skill you have and grind it into paste
Blur thinks he can hang with the elite, gets cold feet, tries to retreat
Punk gon get beat, can’t compete, should just admit defeat
Will that be all? Here’s your receipt, lather, rinse, repeat.
Blur
Your verbal exertion was to the extent of turd inertion
Take a lyrical excursion and return flow to its purer version
Repetition so stiffened it's givin' the Minus World competition
Precision worse than fission critical hittin' could ever envision
My symphonies tell tales of collision across your abyss of indecision
For hip-hop's sake - consider remission. And retort? Go look up the definition
I'll mail your letter of recommendation, stat! - to the Institute for Lyrically Disabled
Then nail your coffin and engrave on your epitaph: Ozymandias' successor, all herald!
If I call you Overcast, prepare to call me Atmosphere
Clear the skies of your pollution, fill the O-Zone with your tears
Drop bars so cold they form igloos instantly, rap's only Inuit
Warm up to mammerjammer's company, here's a secret - it's a hit and quit
Ed
Know one thing, I’m King of Kings, but my reign’s not over yet
Throw ya in lyrical Sing Sing with miracle bling bling; I’m Osiris, you’re Set
Envious of my synthesis of flow and soul; I need footnotes, parentheses
Can’t keep up, can’t leap up, gotta creep up on me to get a win in this
I’m like a Genesis, I do what Blur Nintendon’t, your bit capacity makes grown men flee
Comin’ at ya supersonic, ***** I’m like Chronic: Agree or Disagree?
So now what Mr. Atmosphere, your skies are cloudy, your pain severe
Fall off your “throne” like King Lear, the rightful heir returns to the rap hemisphere
Take a Warp to World 8 while you’re stuck in the wrong pipe
Got a thirteen nation army paintin white stripes for victory hypes
Eddymandias reigns supreme, with style, panache, and flair
So get down on ya knees, look on my works, ye feeble, and despair.
Battle 84: (11) Giggsalot vs. (6) Furious J[]
~The Score~
Giggsalot: 4
Furious_J: 6
~The Raps~
Giggs
G to tha izzle up to bat, rap abattoir up and running
Strike down the proletariat with linguistics strictly cunning
This just one of my old victories re-running, technique's stunning
Andrew Jackson card, you'd never let me strike first if you'd seen me gunning
Presidential, quintessential rhymes knock J right out the box
My face on dollar bills while your hopes crash just like Dow Jones stocks
How you got here in the first place is what I wanna discover
Knowin' less about this rappin' game than Asher Roth's mother
Tacklin' inconsistencies efficiently, one thing is no mystery
No matter how much J's pissed at me, his rap career is history
I'm snipin' rappers SEAL-style from continent to continent
Cos rap ain't nuthin' but a G thang, you picked the wrong consonant
Furious J
Well Giggs is a real gangster, a self proclaimed G
I'm shaking in my boots, tempted to turn tail and flee
But after thinking for ten seconds, a better idea occurs
To crush you're pathetic rhymes like the natives of Darfur
The G thang, must be a Gay thang, because man that sucked dick
Beating you is easier, than the first race with Koopa the Quick
I'm the Franklin to your Jackson, 5 times your better
I'd out do you in every way if I was shackled in fetters
My historic career continues, while yours doesn't warrant mention
Rap School is out for summer, and your ass is stuck in detention
The game is beyond you, the player you hate with a curious malice
So just do what you do best and fellate my furious phallus
Giggs
Rap school is out? Well, all your skill must be on paid vacation
Instead you're typin' sexual fantasies as an aid to masturbation
Your famous furious phallus? More like a spurious callus
Seen by others 'bout as rarely as Aurora Borealis
Oh and speaking of dicks, we should compare and contrast
"No homo"'s a thing of the past, lyrically ram mine up your ass
Witness the beast unmasked! It's like I'm Kane (to your Abel)
Spittin' rugged, raw and rampant as you're bent over the table
With such violence and force, I'm causin' pirates to scream
"That's the second biggest extended metaphor I've ever seen!"
So if you're lookin' for some spoonin' then you're straight out of luck
Giggs' lounging in post-coital bliss, cos J just got ****ed.
Furious J
You must be confused. We're in a rap, not a rape battle
Even though your only skill is to force your dick on cattle
Besides, only thing you can rape with your tiny dick is my ear
Your penis size is more tragic than Shakespeare's King Leer
But mine is like the Aurora Borealis, an amazing sight to see
Every girl whose seen it, drops weeping with joy onto their knees
Just ask your mother, and your cousin, and your last three girlfriends
They'll tell you after sex with J, the entire ****ing world spins
G blows his load in two minutes, and passes out in "coital bliss"
Women describe his skills in bed as a pathetic foible and a miss.
I'm like the seed of God, my conception's are emmaculate
You're raps are impotent, just like three day old ejaculate