Rap Battle

This rap ain’t got composure like a whack-ass thesis

Your boyfriend’s on ma caque like a monkey rhesus

I’m processed in the thigh bags like urine and feces*

You know the label’s fucked that they had to release this

that’s all i had.  sorry.

*only works if you pronounce “urine and feces” like Max von Sydow in Dune (1984).


  1. SadsquatchLingers says

    This shit is sick, like lipstick on my
    Dick VanDyke on big-assed trike
    Fly yer rhymes back to Timbuktu
    Mali’s on molly and your mama is too

  2. says

    You think you’re Slick Rick but you ain’t even Macklemore
    I don’t even know what the hell you are rhyming for
    Step in my blog like the pits of Malebolgia
    Flavor crystal your coffee just like the brand Folgia
    There will be no reprieve from your shit’s immolation
    Schooling your raps is my favorite vocation

  3. says

    I was gonna try to rap, but then I got high
    Don’t know what I’m doing, so I got high
    Can’t remember crap, and I know why
    ‘Cause I’m high
    ‘Cause I’m high
    ‘Cause I’m high

  4. says

    you make the people say “aww poor baby boo”
    giving up before you got halfway through
    did u really get high or just quote afroman?
    can’t feel mad about a possum in the lyrical garbage can

  5. Sack'scrotchFingers says

    Put on the brakes and take yer foot off the GAS, bitch
    Cuz your flow’s like shit coming out a turtle’s ass, bitch
    Drop you off at the bus station, bitch
    Leave you flailin’ in consternation, bitch
    Take the 181 to community college, bitch
    Learn how to bow down to real knowledge, bitch
    Time to retire like Mario Mendoza, bitch
    Cuz I’ma roll over ya like a bulldoza, bitch
    This is gettin’ boring so I’ll just say this, bitch
    Yer rappinin’ ain’t happenin’ so just sit down, bitch

  6. says

    Bitch pleeeease, how you gonna even try to come at me?
    I won’t hesitate to do a dime for assault and battery
    You came up in my space with your dinky couplets
    I’ll turn your white ass into minced-up pork cutlets
    Try to get the last word when you got a blog
    Until that day you’ll be like Iggy Pop’s dog
    I hope you’re ready to feel my hands
    Cuz I’ll knock your block into foreign lands.

  7. MadsquatchSingers says

    This is my blog now, you punk motherfucker
    Put that keyboard away, we don’t want to see you suffer
    Naw, JK, I wanna see you squirm, bro
    In the dirt and the leaves just like a worm, yo
    Whatta the Old Testees be sayin’? Not today, Satan?
    Take ya bitch-ass back to Rat City, cuz you ain’t gettin’ no pity
    Not from me, not this week, not this year, shit’s gettin’ bleak
    Hope you got a power of attorney, cuz I’m ending your journey
    Sending you to the ER? Fuck no, sending you to the graveyard
    You, battlin’ me? Little piggy fly,
    Ya rhymes so bad you making Biggie cry
    In his grave with no lacrimal glands
    Flesh all gone with his skeleton hands
    Reach out for you and take you back underground
    Cuz there’s no place for you on this here battleground
    Now you got the keys, ya fuckin’ sad clown
    Kindygarten freeplay, wear your paper crown
    I know I hurt your feelings, ya kinda looking pouty
    So this is the final word. I’m outie.

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