Board 8 Wiki

The Third Week of the Board 8 RAP BATTLE: tha LEAGUE 2 Tournament.

~Week 3~[]

Battle 33: Wiggs vs. Swif7y[]

~The Score~

Wiggs: 0
Swif7y: 9

~The Raps~

I'm here to PROVE, Swift, I'll tear you open like a foam mat
Gotta needle to administer 500 CCs of ownage, and stat!
You'll find against me you're nowhere near inflictable
Cuz like a retrospective study your results are so predictable
The time is nigh for you to learn some respect for me
Cuttin' off your chances of winning, you're here for a vasectomy
"Your Honor, he might have a chance"; nothin' but a perjury
Got told by Pablo Picasso to look into plastic surgery.
Got you on the table now, I don't follow that Hippocrates
Just for fun, gonna tear you up, by my sworn pact of Autonomy
So now I finish my proof, in heaps of memorandum.
Rest in peace, botched experiment, Quid Erum Demonstrandum

your craft has died and pacified, still pushin caps, it's CRAP DISGUISE.
and half the time you battle guys your phattest lines their practice rhymes.
you're the laughin stock of cypher circles, weak as fuck, the jig is up.
the test of bein under drugs? my verse is dope, your shit is drunk.
i'm here to say i'm god today, droppin monster weight til your posture breaks.
i've been away but my fans come back cause i keep em set to oscillate.
my flow is hard, i'm keepin tabs like openin bars, it's so bizarre.
your rhymes are like bill and monica before the sex... "close, but no cigar."
your verse to me? it's cartoony, i'm harpooning each bar, looney.
and you couldn't set yourself apart if you starred in your own movie.
your flows stupid, while i'm thumpin dudes with somethin blunt or fuckin smooth.
you're done you lose, with a mirror up to you like... "here's the ugly truth."

That one was so bad man, I'm lookin' thru the yellow book listin's
Gotta find a doctor who can remove earplugs stuffed all the way in.
Your flow was so completely flaccid, scarin' away my erection
You'd prolly find it an an awards show, eliminated by natural selection.
So while you take shame in the fact that you're rejected by Darwin,
Bask in my sharp retorts, and find they'll permamently be scarrin'
Your fans don't go anywhere, a pause to let me reiterate
But this Fan right here will hit you with force and accelerate
Thumpin dudes with somethin smooth? You must mean your wit.
No fuckin' way that does any damage, it just makes them dumb as shit.
Compared to ME, you make BRIE look as sharp as Wisconsin Cheddar
Don't shame yourself more, you dirty whore, make your last rap a suicide letter

i'll strap a wash tub to your legs and make you sink to your knees.
never relinquish my squeeze, strip you naked and make you shimmy down trees.
you're just a stinkin disease, proud enough to shit in a breeze.
'til it covers the back of your knees, believe me your record's just fecal debris.
how do you think you're equal to me? i need to question mathamatics.
you couldn't flip scripts if you wrote the words 'practicin acrobatics'.
slappin this half wit who think it's fun to test what my mind will do.
i'm not chokin you with my leather belt, but i'll still waist lines on you.

i'll shed the light on wigs, i'll hit him with the lamp til he bleeds.
cause he don't stand for punchlines like a comedy club for amputees.
can't you see? you're whack and your persona is just retarded.
i'm not a fan of expressin emotions, why else would i be crushin your heart in?

Battle 34: Extha vs. Timjab[]

~The Score~

Extha: Wins by DQ
TimJab: n/a

~The Raps~

TimJab vs. ExTha? Let’s turn that shit ooon, son.
Coz I’m bout to treat Tim like he was Benoooit’s son.
I’m aaawe-some and Tim’s nothing but a lowly joke.
Prone to choke on the same fuck his momma smokes.(haha)
I think though that this battle oughta be shortened.
To a contest to see who’s more like Randy Orton.
It’d be me undoubtedly, I head hunt with my death punt!
Ladies can’t say no to my RKO, and it tops your best stunt!
Yet they turn you down, why? You don’t gotta be a surgeon.
To see why much like Rhett Titus: you’re a virgin.
Ya see Tim it's like halftime between our football teams.
ExTha: Forty Tim: Nothin' is already what the scoreboard reads!

Battle 35: FD vs. TVontheRadio[]

~The Score~

FD: Wins by DQ
TVontheRadio: 0

~The Raps~

Fiercely you're pierced by my lyrics sublime,
Feel my striking ryhthms abuse you in Time
Prose escapes you, so just follow my lead
Try to keep up, I'm proceedin with speed
You're treatin a beatin in a ring with EffDee
Got one-twos, haymakers, aint never been seen
With headshots aplenty and low blows galore
I'll render your torso a bloody S'more
You'll be flailin about as the thirstiest trout,
but I've all the clout in this bout - you're out
Aint no bets to be hedged, cause EffDee's a sure thing
Just take a knee and be pledged to your rappingest King

Battle 36: ngirl vs. BBallman7[]

~The Score~

ngirl: 5
BBallman7: 6

~The Raps~

Gonna greet this clown, gonna beat him down,
In a feat of renown, I’ll treat the town,
To a bloodbath, on a Kratos level,
He’s in the flood path, just crossed the devil.
His wordplays shit, nay, non-existant,
His turd may be his chief assistant,
While I float past on golden wings,
He chokes fast, as an angel sings,
Proclaiming me as a saint of rap,
I’m maiming BB, he faintly flaps,
A nonsense verse, his best he’s tryin’,
The offence worse then the Detroit Lions.

Hey girl of nintendo, this battle seems numbing,
Just call me Mario, I'm here to help with your plumbing,
So let's start, take off your pants holy shit girl you're bleedin'
And how are you gonna rap with a mouth full of semen?
No need to get offended I'm just building some cushion,
I've seen your pic, wouldn't fuck you with Palmer's dick, and TimJab pushin',
Draining 3 after 3 without even lookin',
And you seem, hold up...why the fuck aren't you cookin'?
So now I'll take my win and just chill in my hammock,
If you dare to disturb me at least make me a sandwich,
I think that last diss did some criminal damage,
Wasting my time on you I must have minimal standards.

Unique, inspired, a rap about my gender,
Hey geek, you’re tired, go play with your member,
Yes I have made a sandvich, but I can eat it just fine,
But here’s Sasha, and bitch, she’ll treat you divine.
Other then that, no hurt did you bring,
Your lines all flat, like Curt try’n to sing,
Dull as Paris Hilton, all the brains of her too,
Your Skull gives me a thrill son, as the pain I’m causing you,
Makes you, cry, more then Simba finding out,
After Mufasa died, Hyenas were dining out,
Pray for it to end BB, or Mario you said?
Chime in “It’s a me,” when they identify the dead.

What a diss, I play with my dick, I'm thinking you're scared boo,
Gonna watch 1 night in Paris, thanks for the idea too.
So brace for the impossible, I obliterate obstacles,
I kill and hate illogicals, what can you do? Eliminate Popsicles,
You being great... improbable, learn to embrace hospitals,
You disgrace carnivals, and get turned away in conjugals.
I'm glad my skull is thrilling, but it was odd I must insist,
Maybe it means I'm gettin' some head after I win this,
Cuz Mario no longer cares, I'm sorry Ms. Princess,
Get some help from someone else I have other business.
We both know I won't lose, and it doesn't occur often,
Next week I'm the headliner, NGirl's in a coffin.

Battle 37: Ed Bellis vs. TheLastOblesik[]

~The Score~

Ed Bellis: 4
TheLastOblesik: 6

~The Raps~

Ed Bellis
I’m bout to beat ya down worse than Ike wailed on Tina
Just call me Hurricane, the whole world’s my arena
Droppin’ lyrical bombs like you’re Herzegovina
King Ed’s gon’ deliver a rappin’ subpoena:
“TLO, you must flee in shame and disgrace
With blood in ya heart and egg on ya face”
Your wings are at zero, you’re fallin’ in space
It’s 2-1-0-1, and I took all your base
Then used them to knock out a massive home run
Like a sexual puppet you’ll soon come undone
Like Shadow’s behind your end will be-GUN
They call you the last, so I’ll be number one.

The Last Oblesik
You called rap's real Ike (aka Dwight D) it's time for war so
Let me mention that the only Tina you'll be beatin is under your torso
Put you on broadcast cause like the show you Lost
Going nuclear to kick ass you be payin in Holocausts
And speaking of hollow costs, here comes an OBJECTION!
Your subpoena ain't worth squat but you still got put in collection?
Victory seems assured but don't worry you're croakin
Now let me take off every Zig Zag cause I don't know what you been smokin
Stripped of your credentials and looking at hard times
Sorry to break it to you EDison, go invent some new rhymes
They call me last cause I'll be the last one left alive
You can try and call Jack Bauer but you ain't got the- BEEP...BEEP...BEEP...BEEP

Ed Bellis
Those rhymes were pedantic and scarily crappy
You’ve TLOverstayed your welcome like Doo comma Scrappy
Crowd wants you to stop now; boy, make it snappy
This ain’t Little League, son, I just popped your rap cherry
I’ll deliver the sermon, a TLObituary
Think you’re winnin’ this battle? Oh, quite the contrary
OBJECT all you like, zig zag all you please
Your rap’s TLOvercooked by a hundred degrees
Got TLOvarian cancer, a rappin’ disease
From modern California to feudal Japan
King Ed reigns supreme – let me draw you a plan:
This match was TLOver before it began.

The Last Oblesik
My "Calibur" is top notch and really no worries
I got the "Sole" EDge to burn you up like Bradbury
ED Wood own me in Little League, but get schooled in the majors all day
I mean, how can you get better when you're training with Almonte?
Obituaries? Oh bitches like you worry cause I'm back from the stasis
ED Grimley realized he can't file -> save this
I spit hell's BELLIS in yo ears like an overseer's slave whipz
Your first name is Adam cause you're always EDen my shit
I may have got cancer, but my one-liners are a cure to stop
Your malpractice and diagnostics...bottom line you're a BELLy flop
It's like Star Search, ED McMahon's picked me to win this
Get your mind TLOverwhelmed with your brains on an EDifice

Battle 38: MaxedOutRyu vs. Furious J[]

~The Score~

MaxedOutRyu: 2
Furious_J: 5

~The Raps~

low punch, low punch, forward, low kick, high punch
Jumping thru the screen about to have some lunch
your world goes black, you wont see a thing
no more losses, time to end the recurring theme
yeah, so what if i didnt get a vote
everyone voted against me is a joke, take a note
Furious J i dont know a thing about you at all
but i heard you smeared poo on the wall
haha, thats some little kid stuff
dont reply trying to act tough, i'll call your bluff
you better go all in when you spit your first one
because i'm about to prove why i should of won.....

I lost by one vote in my last match, it just came down to luck
But you didn't even get one vote, man that must suck
Though after reading your first go it's not hard to see why
After your poo jokes and your game codes, I don't even have to try
Two shut outs in a row, your self esteem must be suffering
With rhymes more annoying, than your favorite porno buffering
I guess you MaxedOut all your rap cards, but the credit line was zero
Now I'm gonna burn you down, like a crazy Roman Emperor Nero
Your lack of levity and wit is a travesty catastrophical
Your raps so inhumane Ima call amnesty international
My skills so enormous they reach proportions astronomical
My words break your back, now your barely operational

never was the one to stress about a vote
you said what whats already known, your such a joke
using big words like you're smart or something
took you almost 10 hours, and you really said nothing
no content, noting you said makes sense
you sat around trying to get a few cents
but i'm not buying none of your lyrics at all
they sound rehearsed not creative at all
everything i say is spur of the moment
but i'll step to your level, my day of atonement
while your saying nonsense shit like amnesty international
i sip on fine wine, i call it simply classical

I took my sweet time, because I've got a job and a life
While a lovely lady named palmela is all you could get for a wife
I don't use big words, you've just got a tiny vocabulary
But through my eloquence you'll have a nice obituary
It'll read, "Here lies MaxedOutRyu, the weakest of the weak
Who was lyrically beat down, curb-stomped, and drowned in a creek
He couldn't hang with J, couldn't reach him up at the peak
But at least now that he's dead, we wont have to hear him speak"
And people will come to your funeral, have a moment and shed a tear in pity
They'll say "What a shame, he was a nice guy, even though his rap was shitty"
And they'll know that I maimed you, they won't even have to ask it
Because your funeral, son, is going to have to be closed casket

Battle 39: DigitalIncision vs. XtremeBlur[]

~The Score~

DigitalIncision: 1
Blur: 6

~The Raps~

In the spirit of this battle I'll get this goin'
Blur my rappin' brotha, thanks for showin'
My last opponent showed a little hesitation
Was quite afraid of my lyrical asphyxiation
But now you here and I'm the one who's late
Somethin told me to finish up this battle, 'tis fate
I guess some higher power wants you beaten
Must be important cause I was in the middle of eaten
But I'll put aside yo momma for a short while
Give ya a rappin' Sonic Boom like Guile
I'm ya next trial, though its an upward climb
For miles, Blur, to compete with this rhyme.

You consider that a rap? I'd label it a rhythmless disaster
Ertyu will learn proper spelling 'fore this craft you'll start to master
You've put an unholy incision in a favorite pastime of mine
And with thanks to your unruly precision, I'll gladly spit this for you on an incline

Miles ain't nothing when the competition's this stale, my friend
Like OJ's attempts for publicity, your tales and schemes never seem to end
You've been Trumped before, and now you're fired once again
So let me buy your real estate while your dignity you try to vend

See I'm resistant to the indignant impotence your raps seem to envision
Tackling my book of rhymes? - Lewis and Clark's only failed expedition
Now take a look at my advance, if you manage to book more than a passing glance
Because you'll only get one chance: Fatality -> Ultra Combo -> Final Smash -> fighter's stance

You speak of no rhythm but your rap is nothing more than poetry
Like an endless schism your craft could use my expert pilotry
You've got no flow, Blur, like most you must of lost rappin's blueprint
And now its time for you to get acquainted wit' my shoeprint
Suppose this is a fightin' game, well in this I am the master
Start off with McCloud pullin' out my side blaster
Move the stick left a bit and suddenly I'm goin' faster
Passin' by, almost like a Blur, you're left on the ground from what unsure
Switchin' games and characters now, watch out for who I pick
Because its Reptile an' his quickness'll make you sick
Time for a MERCY, Blur I want you to live and tell everyone this reality
Nah just kidding, you just got raped by a monkey son, ANIMALITY!

Digitally, you seem to be lacking a little lyrically
And rhythmically, I fear for your wordpad document's sanity
So generously, I'll donate a bit to your pen collection's new charity
Which luckily just got its start-up fund after you drove flow to bankruptcy

Ironically, I just happened to win the wordplay lottery
Immediately, received a call from every rap talent agency
Animality? What're you doing ruining my classic fatality?
Meticulously, I mock your mercy with spine-rippin' ingeniously astounding

Leisurely, I can take it easy knowin' you've been given a proper pounding
Similarly to your poor controller - that button mashin' causes frowning
Raise the difficulty and enjoy another grounding times trinity
Making gravity my toy story as I combo you beyond infinity

Battle 40: WalrusJump vs. Rollthebones[]

~The Score~

WalrusJump: 1
RollTheBones: 6

~The Raps~

Getting roasted like a chicken, flapping your wings and clucking
Leaving your best discourse to be covering yourself and ducking
The bird is the word - chicken or duck is what you'll taste like
Getting burned so badly I'll cut into your flesh with a knife
So you say that's cannibalism? No, symbolism is the word
Besides, I never said I'd eat human, because you'll be squawking like a bird
The comparison may be absurd, turning humans into avian creatures
But it won't be near as crazy as how bad my raps will beat ya
I can't be touched - my flow and rhymes are sick like bird flu
Nothing you can do - shame, but you'll be babbling like ertyu
After the scope of which your ass got smote and defeated:
"what ever this battle es dum because i just got beated"

If that’s the best you’ve got, then I’ll never be “beated”,
A dozen lines of bird puns won’t leave me defeated.
Lyrically I’m unmatched, my words always stand tall
My rhymes will leave you dazed like a dose of rohypnol.
I’ve been practicing medication without legal permission
But I don’t need a degree just to be a physician.
When it comes to skilled, I’m the dictionary definition,
I’m a world class talent, with lyrical ammunition.
Just got one third left, enough to leave you beat,
With lyrical concepts and allusions that are too concrete
To be bested by anyone, to this league’s chagrin.
So sit back and relax, because the doctor is in.

It's really sad, your naivete, because you're sorely mistaken
You can't practice medicine without a degree, to YOUR chagrin
So basically your entire verse the first time was worthless
Just a little less effective than appointing Roland Burris
I'll sit back and relax while I'm destroying your ass
Your rhymes failing like Stephon Marbury making a pass
And I'm LeBron, unfortunately for you, I'm turning it on,
You're simply outclassed, it's like your state is Golden
So just give up, you can't stand up to that, you little prat
Here's Illmatic and you're Soulja Boy telling me to crank that
I'll just give you my autograph - you're getting one from the GOAT
Which should be ample compensation after I get all the votes.

Glad to see you made it for the second round after all,
But just like your bird lines, your rhymes sank like basketballs,
Even with one failed verse, I’ll win by unheard proportions,
No one’s failed as bad as you since your mom attempted abortion.
Cheap shots like that are easy, but my flow’s cold and hard,
Don’t pay too much regard or my lines will leave you scarred,
Shivering and in tears while my rhymes assault your ears,
like the Portuguese army in 1471 in Tangiers.
That’s a history lesson, cause my rhymes are historical,
Relating rap battles to wars: concepts so metaphorical.
My last two lines will now remove any remaining doubt,
About who’ll win. You may be Lebron, but you fouled out.

Battle 41: Swordsman vs. KnightofNee[]

~The Score~

Swordsman: 1
KnightofNee: 3

~The Raps~

Welcome to the show, board 8 is where the stage is
It’s Nee against a pro, so who’s taking wages?
My rhymes invade like phages intent to set gauges
The timer engages, blows ya back to dark ages
So now you’re in a battle that you simply cannot win
Slap you with a herring, plunge my blade right through ya skin
Ya flesh is tearing, you’re despairing, I’m declaring victory
AND ya girl’s got shrubbery, add insult to injury
Make no mistake: you’re a flop, you’re a fraud
Opponents quickly break, I’m on top, I’m a God
Laying on the ground, last breath about to leave ya
King I have been crowned, from this life I shall relieve ya

You say you're a God? Why not go back to heaven?
I guess I'll send you myself, you'll be dead by line seven.
Wager all your wages, put your minimum on your demise
Betting otherwise is unwise, look in my eyes - no lies
You can't plunge my skin, just your backed up toilet
Go put on some Depends, because I know you'll soil it
You may know the Holy Grail, but it turns out you're the parrot
Locked in a cage and on sale, but just as dead as your merit
Who will lose to me next? Against them I won't be so soft
Wait, you still get more text? "You're wasting my time," I scoffed
I'll guess your next verse will be your funeral procession
Except no one will show up (and it's not cuz of the recession)

I’m goin all in, that’s right I called your bluff
Pocket aces for the win and it’s more than enough
To best your lame hand, 2-7 with no flush
Two more aces on the flop, yeah you just got crushed
To heaven you’ll send me? Pussy I’m already there
Bow down on a bent knee, plea, say a prayer
So high above ya, my rap skills are legendary
No one knows of ya, start writin your own obituary
“Knight of Nee, fatefully, killed by swordsman on a killin’ spree
The dust settled, cleared debris, all that stood was one emcee
Grin on his face, full of glee, stood tall, said a decree
Match is over, a guarantee, schooled this kid with my rap degree”......may he RIP

Of course you're in heaven and not hell
Your disses don't burn, can't you tell?
Winning a game's lame, this is a battle for fame. It's not the same
And at least I've got writing about my name, you must be ashamed
To be killed so brutally, then virtually ignored
You're trying so futilely, but totally outscored
Line seven's here and you're dead again
Everyone should fear, I'm slaying swordsmen
I don't need a sword, my words slice with precision
I'll be most adored, voting me's an easy decision
Before I go, let me give you one lesson:
Swords are outdated, buy a Smith & Wesson

Battle 42: fetusbucketeer vs. RustyMrMokka[]

~The Score~

fetusbucketeer: 7
RustyMrMokka: 1

~The Raps~

I'm hot when you're cold, I'm yes when you're no, I'm in when you're out, I'm up when you're down
Wait what? Am I even allowed to do that here? Huh? It's alright, you're about to get trounced, I fear
I'm running on adrenaline, and I'm sure I'll only settle when
your body's on the ground and then gets eaten by some worms

Yeah worms, there I said it, I hope you get eaten then digested
by some grubby little bastards with one more heart than God invested
in either you or me, see worms have two or three
or maybe four sometimes, I don't know I'm not a fucking worm scientist, see

But sorry for the digression, the thing about worms was stupid and a lesson
to myself that I should stick with what I do best during these sessions:
Your mother's a whore, you knew it had to come up, see
Your mother's a whore, a slut, a trollop, and gets fucked more than Billy Gillespie

This rap is to show how much of a bitch fetus was
He ended up backstabbing his own son
Now he when fetus looks back he sees what hes done
He is just a punk who let his son die
But the little shit would rather fly high
You didn’t even show to his funeral
Man what are doing, that’s just disgraceful
And you still wonder why your wife left you for another man
And why I’m the person giving the speech upon this stand
The man had needs like most people do
But this man only 16 and makes your wife hate you
All I gotta say is Rest In Peace Rustybucketeer

Screw that, I'm about say some stuff to increase my level of threat
with lines you don't get like "Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet"
It means "Rusty's just a chump and a sucker and worse?
He's a nerd and a loser and he carries a purse."

It's amazing sometimes how efficient language can be
Like this right here it's like Relm Arrowny cast haste on me
This next line here is coming at you fierce and fast:
You suck, you're dumb, you have no flow, and you pass too much gas

You remind me of a lobster, Rust, this big ugly thing
That people seem like for reasons that are just beyond me
And I'm from Maine, I should like the stuff, and should like you as well
Since you're from Canada, AKA: The Third Ring of Hell.

Wawawa that’s how the fuck you sound
After what you did ta me paps, your gonna drown
Did you really think you could have killed me that easily?
The way ya raised me made me quite weaseliy
When I was out hiding I learned a lotta things
I’m like the Boston Celtics, gettin’ a couple rings
But I still wanna know why you tried to kill your son
I don’t see how any person with you could have some fun
You wonder your wife left you for another man
I hope the US government gives you a fuckin ban
I’m a sniper with a hell of a scope, ready to pull the trigger
But I can’t seem to pull on you, cause you’re my dad, go figure

Battle 43: Cokes vs. MajinZidane[]

~The Score~

Cokes: 3
MajinZidane: 0

~The Raps~

Week one, I hit DS so hard that the voters were smitten
Week two, Bio got so scared he decided to stop spittin'
Week three, it's MZ here to see how his life's been rewritten

  • Spoilers* - I'm bombin' his ass like the Luftwaffe did Britain

Your verbose verses are a nice bit of academia but
tryin' that shit with me is like macadamias - nuts
I'll slice wounds in ya game, bleed you dry like anemia cuts
Told Rage I'm like smallpox, but I'm closer to leukemia - What?
Cancer rhymes ain't cool? Fine, I'm iller than bulimia sluts
So that urge you're feelin' to try and best me? Resist it
'cause I'll come down even harder if you keep on insistin'
My advice - get so lost people forget you existed

you are the man dude, cokes, you make me look like chop liver
you got some violent flow, the likes that's makin' me shiver
throwin some bombs here my way, bleedin' out, i'm gonna die
you're right my shit does suck, it's all overused and dry.
i won't compare me to you, barely robin to your batman
you're like a hot white beau, i'm an over concealed afgahn.
i am not feeling an urge, my words ain't touchin you
your lyrical masterpiece givin me this breakthrough.
you words are cuttin' me up, ain't nothing left to retry
my guns are shootin' blanks while yours got me in the eye.
blind and i can't fight back, nothing for me to deny
don't even need another verse i'll just sit back here and die.

Clearly in your schools they didn't teach self-deprecation
You got in front of the class and oops -- self-defecation
Here's a lesson from Cokes, the resident rap professor
You should always remember, when settlin' for lesser
to admit that you blow more than an air compressor -
dissin' yourself's all about bein' the passive-aggressor
But that's enough lecture, yes, that's enough teachin'
Think it's 'bout time for I put an end to your mindless screechin'
And since I owe Princess Anri at least a witticism
Lemme give the MCs a little constructive criticism
Don't bother battlin' anyone after I've finished with 'em
'Cause I'm so ahead of my time, they call me Boy Anachronism

because i'm majin, son cokes, you ain't gonna get through
i run circles, spit fire, knock the curb i'm stompin' you
got my undercut fist uppercutting you before
you're my little pet stan kick the baby out the door
you got you're little small wang get that shit up out the store
need some little cryin' man get that words up off the floor
keep your words where they belong dont got nothin' that can't fight
you can try and use your hands eat some spinach gain some might
until you wiggle your damn nose get that shit out in the night
put some camo in this clan dissapear be out of sight
knock some sense into this man make sure he dont cry in light
push the lamp down burn that flan you can eat that shit alright
kick your face off tase your lamb maybe you shouldn't'a cried
gotta leave me out you ran next i see you you be died.

Battle 44: Alec vs. SensiShadeSlaye[]

~The Score~

Alec: 6
SensiShadeSlaye: 1

~The Raps~

Here comes the rhymin' Buddha, behold the rap enlightened
Who's rapping in his prime, while all his skills are heightened
Up against this little rookie, who's already looking frightened
Ask each and every bookie, they'll you how this fight ends
So since I'm gonna school Slaye, who raps at best erratic
I'll give him a free lesson, in dialogue Socratic
Do you agree that fighting above your weight is not pragmatic?
That being burned like Joan of Arc can indeed be quite traumatic?
How can you hope for better, when you are this tourney's nadir?
If you have no chance, why duel pre-retcon Vader?
You see you have no future, no reason to persist
I think this lesson’s over, I declare this class dismissed

You’ve waited and waited but it’s time for the main event
Shade is here and he’s rappin’ at one hundred percent
Alec Trev here was hopin’ for my mind to be dead
From the flu virus he so villainously sent into my bed

Well now that I’m awake let’s get down to business
Alec Trev long ago lost his rappin’ fizziness
His pop is all gone and his back has grown hair
Let’s face it buddy, you’re like Sunny or Cher

Ya lost yer rappin’ luster back in nineteen eighty-seven
I’ve had the skills to defeat ya ever since I was eleven
So sit back and relax the real Sensei’s now running this show
And don’t worry - he can teach ya anything Alec don’t know

You should have rapped while sick, it’s not like you’d lose your “skill”
And then at least something bout your rap might have been ill
So good at keepin’ sick from rhymes, you’re almost a physician
You make your flow all disappear, you must be a magician

You make it pretty clear, that smooth rappin’s your ambition
But with such weak attempts, you’re inept as prohibition
I’ve read better fanfics, than that feeble composition
Your rhymes are such a crime, I wish this board had extradition

So bow to the rapping heir, cuz crowd don’t wanna miss this
You’re just a weak usurper, so I’ll Orestes your Aegithus
If I were in your place, I’d look into new pursuits
Cuz you’re getting whipped so bad you’d think we’re filming Roots

The last rap of this battle should be great or something
Alec Trev would be sorely damaged by the thumping
That this rap would dish out to his cerebral cortex
But then the awesome lyrics would be lost in the vortex
That such an event would create, so let’s pass on that thought

Hmm…I believe you called yourself a teacher, what exactly have you taught?
‘Cause you know I’ve been this board’s Sensei since my first arrival

Perhaps it’s about time for a little role revival
Alec Trev listen up, Sensei is teaching ya important stuff
Always floss yer teeth, never run around in the buff
Not unless you wanna catch the flu, that’d be rough
And now, Alec, you gotta know, if you really want yer raps to be buff -

Battle 45: Avyuir vs. DSRage[]

~The Score~

Avyuir: N/A
DSRage: Wins by DQ

~The Raps~

Look at yourself, Ayvuir, coming late to the party, You suck, then forfeit, and all of it was tardy, It's probably because you're from a sucky time zone, Unlike you, I'll finish the rap, your face I shall pwn,

A to the Y to the V U I R, L to the A to the M E R, L to the O to S E R, I spelled your three names, har har har.

Rapping isn't for you, maybe not for me, but I just chased you right out of your tree, that tree being europe, my weapon being pee, I am king of this throne now, bitch.

Battle 46: Princess Anri vs. sonicblastpunch[]

~The Score~

Princess Anri: 7
sbp: 8

~The Raps~

I was born into royalty as a princess, but I earned this rap crown on my own.
You, born of disloyalty and incest. Time you learned to bow down at my throne.
I'll give you a blessing, not a beatdown. Impart a lesson to lessen yer depression.
Don't start confessing, take a seat now. Start assessin' just who you're addressin'.
Call this a free rap clinical from the game's own pinnacle to improve your lack of talent.
All can see why I'm cynical and your chances minimal to remove my attacks so gallant.
First Lecture: Know when you're outclassed. This is like a Raptor eating a Stegosaurus.
Conjecture: You're about to be surpassed like ya missing a chapter reading ya thesaurus.
Lesson Two: Try to plant some flow into your rap in lieu of depending on clever rhymes.
Stressin' too, it's important to know how to wrap in a few lines offending me sometimes.
Last Tip: Try not to rap about *** stuff. Nobody cares how many men you've kissed.
You think this gimmick's cliche enough? Well, too late now so you're dismissed.

yer softest, weakest pablum mixed with unconvinvin word inflation
is like you drooled yer baby food on a failed mensa application
and one hundred eighty words later you've still made nothin happen
threw on the applause light but had absolutely no one clappin
and yer yammerin and stammerin clamor displayed no passion
tee ell semicolon dee arr was everyone's yawned reaction
no wonder you claim royalty -- you're stone dead to the electorate
against my superpower you're a meaningless protectorate
so with limp wristed language like that you should have stayed taciturn
i guess you idolize lady di, 'cause all you did was crash and burn
and like dio's steamroller i'll crush you into the earth with glee
'cause princess rhymes with winless and that still describes you perfectly

You're counting each word in my verse; try counting down your last hours.
Surmounting an absurd attempt to converse gives renown to my powers.
Your weak rhymes make anything I spit seem Divine, I don't even need to try.
Unique crimes of a fake rap king permit your decline, so we'll bid you goodbye.
There's one notion I really must admire: sounding out "tl;dr" was quite clever.
The only emotion your words inspire is resounding doubt in your trite endeavor.
I don't need an applause light or even a standing ovation for beating you again.
Your fall will cause delight and your crash landing elation, completing my win.
The ref won't even start a ten count. It's clear you'll never get back on your feet.
Don't set your heart on a recount. I fear every single voter demanded your retreat.
Just give the fans what they want. Time to hang up your gloves and go back home.
I bet it's hard to act all nonchalant when my wang really loves the way you give dome.

oh good, a boxin metaphor, i've seen those now three matches straight
what next, captain original, a blowjob joke--oh no hey wait
you did that too to no avail and to yer undyin sorrow it's
been rendered clear you'll spend the year as the league's barry horowitz
pattin yer own back and rememberin yer one fluke singles win
but now i'll shred you so finely yer corpse won't fill a pringles tin
and if you're sliced just right you'll pass for the chips at a passin glance
you're the particular kind of white that does the ice ice baby dance
at weddings, funerals, bar mitzvahs, house parties and all affairs
it's one of countless reasons no one likes or wants you anywhere
and you've again broadcasted yer vast lack of talent, flow and poise
it's why you're called the car horn -- yer obnoxious, constant honky noise

Battle 47: Giggs vs. Seginustemple[]

~The Score~

Giggs: 2
Seginustemple: 6

~The Raps~

Aiyyo it's Giggs on the mic, laying lyrical pipe
And no-one in this league can cope with the words that I type
Scholars gonna write scripture 'bout what they seen on this day
Unforseen dope rap tornado blowin' Seginus away
This **** straight hurts like Ether to Jay-Z, you ****in' wannabe
Fraud MC, stealin' my list formattin' style like it's free
So yo, while I gotta give you kudos for your taste
I find yo bitin' is just incitin' me to lay you to waste
And peeps may Shag in your temple, but it's Giggs that take ya higher
**** Seg, even MakeYourChance was a more plausible messiah
I'm Varg Vikernes, burn down that church with my lyrical fiyah
And toss your Eli Porter rhymes on my funeral pyre

I'm back with a fist dialed to giggs' face, strike type savant
I jacked his album list style but only his taste pulls off dilletante
I'll fight him over where we place Roszz Cillag Alatt
This battle's a misnomer since I'm the one playing gigs a lot
It's true - nobody can deal with his royal performance
Over here slayin brain cells like door-to-door mormons
Hustlin a b-boys game from the other side of the atlantic
Bustin vocab so fake he'd call me "shallow and pedantic"
His "acerbic wit" is as harsh as ascorbic acid
As assertive as an alligator-free lake placid
As a hater I take pride in my capacity for spite
Steal gigg's smirk like Butch Cassidy with spastic might

Well, who needs an opponent when you rap like Seg do?
You say your lexicon's fake and your rhymes lower IQ
It's like you came here for confession 'stead of tryin' to rap ill
I guess all those syllables in Seg's name offset his lack of rap skill
I could repeat my first verse and still win like I be Vast Aire
But I got love for you, man, I beat you down because I care
Like I'm elevatin' the less skilled to a higher rap plane
Then make 'em plummet back to Earth with my purified acid rain
Cos toss my wit in solution and watch it fully ionize
You'll see I'm strong by definition, the science it just don't lie
I'm Isaac Brock spittin' venom, erodin' your mind's eye
And since you on life support already this verse'll just euthanize

I maimed Giggs from the get-go, came stocked to wreck ignition
And hey G, you won't be rakin votes on namedrop recognition
Because only my hand and Cokes' will catch the Cannibal Ox reference
And you don't compare to Vast Aire, so I'll vasect your vas deferens
I respect keepin the gene pool clean by reapin the obscene
What the rap game means to me is more than a machine screen
Giggs is still green, fightin to steady his tremorous digits
Instead of tryin to type at ME, at that prospect I bet he fidgets
Kid, between them and us lies trained electronic criticism
And it pains me to be reminded that ill and kill rhyme - your wit is fizzin
I like you but lines like that catalyze a schism, damn shame
So as far as rap battles go I have to cauterize 0-1-0 by your name

Battle 48: The Beginning vs. Jukkie[]

~The Score~

The_Beginning: 5
Jukkie: 6

~The Raps~

From the top of Rosa Parks, all aboard the hustle bus,
You can sit up in the front, just make sure you hush the fuss
Cuz let me introduce myself, I'm your driver for this evenin'
Keep your arms and legs inside, the TB Rap Tour is convenin'
On your left we have Digi, I sent chills down his spine
On the right it's Curious G, he now believes-in-a Rap Divine
Cuz what he saw was Godly, conceived at The Beginning of time
I'm spittin' Machiavelli, they live-in-a nursery rhyme
And next up, it's you Juk, you're that fool up on the hill
I'm bringing this to mach 4, you fetch the flow of Jack and Jill
Hop off while you still can, before you're caught dead last
This bus rolls on without you, cuz you're nothing but an outkast

Can't believe you got the gall, to ball with dis
Ya'll small, to much to brawl, knockin' you in da abyss
You appall me, rock you in the jaw in the stall, go ona killin' spree
I'll maul ye, my c*** got your ***** enthralled wif me

You step into the circle, trying to flow on this
Slapped down like Urkel, punch holes inya like swiss
Got my glock and my 40, my c*** and your shortay
Beggin me to stop, slingin rocks to yo babe-ays

This is where your wins will stop, no more celebration
When Jukkie gets through with you, nothing but frustration
This is the start of a magical foundation
Even the Gods askin' me how I made this creation

I forgot I was driving, you made me fall asleep at the wheel
So I'm cranking this to Hyper-Space, like a Scoundrel for the steal
I'm Revan up the engine, to mow you down is my Mission
Send you into Exile, G0-T0 you're next audition
Board 8's Mysterious Stranger, I reflect greatness in a Mira
You're less coherent than a Jawa, you need to speak a little clearer
Your presence lacks Force, with the Focus of a Dead-Eye
My sight is like a Hawk, with the Discipline of a Jedi
Roll into the Cantina, drop a 20, Pure Pazaak
Through my lyrical Exchange, your Life Supports are out of stock
You have the Wisdom of a Meatbag, but this isn't a Mind Trick
It's a Query, Jukkie - how come all you speak is Basic?


I never once heard your girl complain about my light saber
She screamed so loud, she was heard by all your neighbors
The metal bikini she had, was an oldie but a goodie
She thought Jabba's tongue was big, until I hit her with my woody.

I know I can be shallow, but I just had to grade her
I hit it all night, had her breathing like Vader
I used the force, and I broke her will
Oh **** son, that ***** best be on the pill

You kissed your sister, and you got something on your skin
Ended up with a blister, man where you think my dick's been?
From Mos Eisley to Alderaan then back to the space port
Red Two I need a wing man, just for a little support

See Also[]