Kid Twist & poRICH vs. Loe Pesci & Bender [Lyrics]

[Round 1: PoRich & Kid Twist]
I came to end Bender’s killing spree, and to question your presidential credibility
‘Cause four events in twelve months? Homie I can divide
That’s one every let’s say three, and without me? All of them would be weak, Volume 1? Live
The rest? Pure wackness
That’s a one hot event every twelve month average
And that’s so, lame, don’t ya’ think Organik?
And if he keeps chokin’ he’ll never get him a win
It’s probably like Solomon, can’t remember what city he’s in
‘Cause these two choke in one of every two of their matches should get booed off the planet
And if you pull your phone out in a battle, you are a faggot
Provin’ you can’t adapt, losin’ every fan that has your back and lookin’ like the biggest joke in battle rap
There’s an app for that

I see that scene with Real Deal now
Y’all picture Loe on his phone, tryna redial freestyle
You didn’t get the props that your lines deserve, ’cause you tried to read ’em off a Blackberry Pearl
Loe, you’re behind the curve
Loe choked givin’ his own grandpa’s eulogy
Got up to do his speech then looked in the casket like, “Who is he?”
This dude’s least favorite movie is Remember The Titans
But he loves Remembrance Day ’cause there’s a minute of silence

And after watchin’ himself move around, sayin’ nothin’ like a pantomime
I’m pretty sure this prince of Persia wished he still controlled the sands of time
Wavin’ ya’ arms like air traffic control, too bad you could never land a line
And at World Domination this Buddhist thought he reached nirvana with clever rhymes
Then his third round started and well, never mind
That shit was embarrassing and cringingly awkward
It was like watching you lose your virginity except three minutes longer
You left my town embarrassed, in debt and still have arrogance left?
You’re a chokin’ jerk-off: David Carradine’s death

I’ve seen your apartment, you’re broke
Jesus, how much is Escrol chargin’ for quotes?
I thought your people were good for bargainin’ Loe
Instead you at the crib, watchin’ 8 Mile, spittin’ the bars that he wrote
Then suddenly “Guys! Shhh! This is the part where he chokes”
So brown ass, yeah I’m talkin’ ’bout ya’ man Loe
If you take it in the ass with Sam Os’ then is Bender face fuckin’ to finish the lamb roast?
And you vers’ Prodigal Son, we’ll forget that match happened
But you still have six chokes so bad I can’t fathom
The sixth was Real Deal with that gay-ass hand clappin’
And your top five chokes were bandwagon
, bandwagon, bandwagon, bandwagon, *both* and bandwagon

[Round 1: Bender & Loe Pesci]
You don’t make music
You, don’t, make, music
Richard Moss: midget toss
I heard Rich was sauced, lickin’ shots off by the bar

Nah, Twist spilled his schnapps, Rich was lickin’ shots off of the bar
If I say you need protection from his lethal weapon
It’s ’cause women he’s been spreadin’ with disease call him ‘the walking STD collection’
And she invented,
 the yeast infection
This heat’s expensive, diesel engine
He’s pretendin’,
 when drinkin’, it’s pathetic really
Get it together Richie
He gets so shitty ingesting whisky, paramedics need a tube to pump it out his friends in Whitby call him Texas Mickey
Versus Real Deal, it’s rumored that we planned the choke
And it’s true, not even Organik knows
So my apologies to that Trevor cat
I did a lot for this company I was testin’ her loyalty, and guess how they fuckin’ got Avocado to edit that,
Now battle rappers say my name like they could end my career, never that
I just put a X on this pirate Rich’s, like a treasure map
You gettin’ scraps, ya’ husband feels safe wit’ you
You got breath like mace or pepper spray and the voice of a, rape whistle
Before you got AIDS at Scribble, WRC was some tiring shit
You carried this tiny Irish prick so long you felt it was time to switch
And now you, get piggybacked by Richard, you’re ridin’ Dick
You’re dying Twist, and I ain’t liftin’ automatic weapons
When I bring up that 4-5, just ’cause I had to mention this cat’s pathetic battle record
And Rich, you’re batting for .500, they say that I should take a break
Your record’s talkin’ to you dog, you keep gettin’ ate and ate

See there was not a lot of hype for puttin’ Rich Moss up on the flier
Even when we said he’s comin’ with his common law vagina
Twist, the Jewish community oughta ostracize ya’
You would’ve made the atomic bomb designer Doctor Robert Oppenheimer and his squad of top advisers wanna side or compromise with all the Nazi occupiers
And turn every Hebrew in the Promised Land into a Holocaust denier
Now Twist, you hate weed, and you constantly remind us
But remember Battle Of The Bay, when I forced you to blaze wit’ us?
Started gettin’ teary eyed, say you were hallucinatin’ stuff
Begged me to reassure you that was just a bag of haze from Lush

*both* Yup, that was angel dust
Guess you haven’t watched Training Day enough
Alex Larsen, that’s a Danish name
Which is funny, but little buddy, ’cause you have a flaky pastry frame
What you wanna do?
You couldn’t bench press ten reps with a loaf of French bread if we spotted you
This is Deadpool and Bruce Banner
Versus Hansel, and Zoolander
A pair of peregrine falcons
Vers’ a pirate and his parakeet squawkin’
Mechanical jaws

Versus Calvin, and Hobbs
Komodo fucking dragons against malnourished dogs
A pile of chips and a royal flush

‘Gainst a pile of shit and a toilet brush
Nah, scrap it, this is like Skelly and Pat Stay
Against Ellen and Anne Heche on a hell of a bad day
And you, have a Napoleon complex
Go on with your small legs
Events that I throw, like libraries that y’all got in Toronto

What kind’s that? The kind where you get shot with a crossbow

[Round 2: PoRich & Kid Twist]
Avocado edited your battle, and if that was like your performance fuckin’
Then any whore you’re pumpin’ is beggin’ for a fast-forward button
Where’d you get your memory chip?
The first computer to ever exist that could store 70 bits that Bender had when he was six?
You’re an awesome crew, ’cause he tells the same story over and over like seniors always do
But to Pesci it’s always new

So they call me a pirate, figure I’d switch the agenda
Give your girl a roofie so she didn’t remember how I shivered her timbers
Man, I could probably get drunk and make y’all look sloppy as fuck
But oddly enough, they thought they could just
Trust they whole style is so polished and buffed
They came in beast mode, to demolish and crush
The stupid motherfuckers must’ve forgot it was us
Rich, Rich, Rich, you should be friends with Pesc’, you have a bond that last forever
Every Saturday night you’re both on a massive Bender

Yeah yeah yeah that’s true, but I’m worried ’bout a drinkin’ challenge after
‘Cause right now, they’re in the long grass with a pack of raptors
Claws slash like daggers, leave a fat cadaver
I’ll smash ya’ alma mater, then shatter Bender’s Stratocaster like he made of alabaster
Why’d you drop the ‘Stratocaster’ from your name? Either those Scott Free guitar disses must’ve really struck a chord
Or you finally realized it made you sound like a fuckin’ dork
And Hindus believe in rebirth, I hope it happens to you fags
So Loe can be reincarnated as an actual douche bag
And since karma’s a damn bitch, you’ll come back as a sandwich
I’m pretty sure the word for ‘Bender’ in Spanish is ‘Madness’

Now he said, when he “break out the pen, alarms go off,” like he get hardcore props
Piggy, when you break out the pen it’s ’cause they didn’t leave the barn door locked
Lightning strike if you want war
Vikings get sliced with the long sword
I’ll turn Flight Distance into Flight of the Conchords
And Bender versus Arcane will be the saddest main event
‘Cause you and him combined have an average age of, dead
Here’s a little preview of Bender’s verse
“I’ll hit you with a shotgun, huhh, from my rockin’ chair while I sit on my porch, huhh
And then have my grandson, huhh, beat the shit outta yours: colostomy bag

Now y’all both stole my rhymes and schemes, shit’s happened too often
It’s like these fat asses got lazy and just abandoned the process
So I came to throw earth, dirt, and sand on ya’ coffin
‘Cause these biters got lockjaw, like Hannibal taught ’em
What, was your family adopted by Sir Anthony Hopkins?
And Bender rolls like Fred Flintstone in his caveman rape van
Cops check the DNA strands then ask which way the ape ran
But you been takin’ walks at the mall, playin’ bocce ball, livin’ carefree
Hey Iron, Bender’s 34, where should his career be?

Colostomy bag

[Round 2: Bender & Loe Pesci]
Now Rich’s woman is in excellent shape
Showed us a video of her dancin’, for 20’s on stage
But at the end of the tape, when it showed her spreadin’ her legs
That snatch was a spittin’ image of the Predator’s face, heugh
Now even on your wedding day, I bet your girl’s down
We can smash in her church gown while we swerve ’round
She heard I even mounted the deathbed to a hearse now
Beat it in the first round, gas leak in the racecar made her squirt through her skirt,
Push one of my balls through, penetrate on the first down
Second I, fucked her again, dissed all her friends, made everything worse now
And don’t say shit to her, just walk around the room for seven minutes and make that bitch wait ‘fore I burst in the third round

They said we should do research to beat you with the personals
I’d rather roll up a Montreal Gazette and beat you with the personals
And hand it to Rich for a blanket, let’s get down to business
I’d get you a pot to piss in just to fuckin’ drown you in it

Your body odor smells like a dumpster behind a Ponderosa
Rich Moss, you’re a walkin’ coma
You would suck a cock for a scotch and soda, who are we kiddin’? You would pussy pop for a hot Corona

And fuck a twist off, I’ll let Osa knock you over and use your hairless twot for a bottle opener
Was that Twist on the flier or was I lookin’ at that Farrah Fawcett poster?
Now when I booked a venue a couple floors above a store
It’s ’cause when I swing a fuckin’ sword or put that machete to your upper core, I’m usin’ Saint-Laurent as a landing strip
You ain’t got the guts to play tug of war
When I swing down usin’ your large intestine as a bungee cord
I walk back upstairs, covered in blood and gore
Stick a knife in the cutting board, while the bar owner says
 “Ayo Pesc’, next time just use the fuckin’ door”
Son it’s war, and I don’t know if you’re a bitch by choice
But every time Rich uses his inside voice it makes your insides moist
Now Twist, you made it cool for faggots to rap, now that’s atrocious
Rich? You open doors for a lot of people, but that’s because you’re homeless

Carries his toilet lookin’ like a pickle and brine
Sips his coffee, uses his teeth to filter nickels and dimes
You crawled out the washroom of a francophone brothel
Some Spanish hoes costume, spandex, pantyhose and canker sores on you
Crank in both nostrils, stank like, old nachos
So Twist handed you his cologne and you, you drank the whole bottle
Rich, you two spent three days writin’ those three rounds, that was no trouble
But, struggled the last two months comin’ up with all your faggot rebuttals, is that what it’s come to?
That’s what happens when you got a daddy that fucks you
A sister that’s your niece, and a aunt, that’s your uncle
Twist, you’ve got a lot of fans here that love you
There’s a man here to fuck you

[Round 3: PoRich & Kid Twist]
Hold up, hold up, we had a verse planned but let me throw some flips in it
I made it cool for faggots to rap, and you choked for six minutes

Dog, you’re queer sauce
And you keep stroking your chin tryin’ to remember your lines, you might pull your fuckin’ beard off
Now I’m mesmerized, ’cause if Bender tried to spend the time
He takes to memorize, his never-ending lines, and exercised
He’d be the most, energized, slender guy
No more hot dog vendor nights, now it’s still just Wendy’s fries
Ten piece chicken tender thighs
Lookin’ like Commander Riker, of the Fast Food Enterprise
And Loe you sit around pissed while eatin’ your noodles
Swearing revenge on Seinfeld for losing your Visa renewal
Very bad man
Jesus, how has your breathing gotten so heavy?
We should be calling him Leslie Nielsen, his lung problems are deadly
We should be calling him Leslie Nielsen, his lung problems are deadly
I repeated that bar ’cause Loe probably forgot it already

And now we at the part, where I remove this rookie’s heart surgically
Pesc’ ain’t the Penguin, he’s Catwoman, you play that pussy part perfectly
Every meal this cokehead eats spaghetti and eight balls
[?] sellin’ that yay to everyone on ya’ team
Turnin’ your homies into junkies and don’t act like you don’t know what I mean
‘Cause once you take the ‘r’ out of ‘friend’ all that’s left, is a fiend
Adding Loe to your crew was foolish, why risk it?
With that terrorist aboard you just shortened your flight distance
I bet kids jump on your stomach like one of those giant bounce castles
You know how I know you’re gay? You like tiny brown assholes

In the last battle he did, Loe had to attach pop-ups just to explain his lines to the people who were watchin’ it
So how the fuck you ever gonna serve me food for thought, if you could never cater, to an audience, without makin’ it so obvious?
And I heard yo’ bitch’s snatch, tastes like a shipping stamp, when you lick the back
But you still into that, ’cause she got hamburger lips, pussy like a Wendy’s Triple Stack
Ayo, it’s Kid Twist, dick deep in his bitch
Whitby is the city,
 g’yeah g’yeah, ya’ fuckin’ dead
How you gon’ have more of a pumpkin head than Pumpkinhead?
Up here lookin’ like Marv Won-derbread
And if I take ya’ bitch to the movies, buy her a grape drink and fries
I’m gettin’ brains in the theater seat like when Abe Lincoln died

And the last person you kissed was the Pringles guy
He hit the booth every day cranking out tunes
It’s R.A. the Rugged Man but Nova Rockafeller would never make out with you
And your stomach is swole like you got a kidney infection
This big bitch is starting his own TV show: 60 And Pregnant
And when you rap you breathe like a man doing hard labor, or a lifeguard CPR trainer, what!
Or Darth Vader having heart failure, what!
You’re old as fuck and fat as hell and your breath isn’t shit
So I’d kill ya’ but you’re close enough to death as it is,
And all of his story was straightforward but yours is destined to switch
‘Cause M. Night Shyamalan always ends with a Twist,
And I put Bender in a box: drunk tank

[Round 3: Bender & Loe Pesci]
Enough with all that faggot stuff
Twist it was cool to see you drink like a man for once

And you make a Star Trek reference? What a fuckin’ goof
You call me Commander Riker? Even your captain calls this piece of shit a number two
Now Twist is my boy, so anyone fuckin’ with his fam’, I’m swingin’ on ’em
But don’t be surprised when your nephew’s born with a full beard and a drinking problem
Now Alex Larsen, you’re workin’ on a novel or two
You got a potential publisher and he watch this shit too

Till he proofread that shit, said “You want the God’s honest truth?
I wipe my ass with this shit, Mischief’s a better author than you”
So when that novel get chewed up and the critics get mega trifle
How you gonna defend a whole book Alex? You can’t even defend a title
Watch chances get ’bout half as slim as those jeans you’re walkin’ in duke
When talent scouts from Random House see the Penguin slaughtering you
And I’d say Rich is an alcoholic but what do I know?
No seriously, what a fuckin’ wino
Twist you got a hymen homie
Right now Rich is lookin’ so high and horny he’s lunging at you lookin’ like a statue of the Heisman Trophy

I heard his mom used to sniff drugs and get buck naked
With strangers, piss drunk, and six months pregnant
So it’s not hard to perceive, that when you start from a seed
The apple never really falls from the…..alcoholic slut that dropped it
And Whitby, your record isn’t wins and then losses, it’s kids and abortions
He’s ten and six, and eight of them orphans
He raised two, and by age two, those twins were in coffins
What kind of father feeds liquor to toddlers?
Takes ’em to the zoo to let ’em swim with piranhas
Now when Rich was unconscious, Bender tried liftin’ his wallet
Yeah, it wasn’t shit in his pocket just that six year-old condom
And a picture of Kid Twist’s dick and balls, in a silver miniature locket
You are not hip hop, the fact you exist makes me nauseous
But if you bitches just wanted Christopher Wallace to spin in his coffin
*both* Then mission accomplished
Now school’s in session, question, who produced The Message?
Question, who was the first supergroup from Houston, Texas?
Question, who partnered with Eazy-E to start Ruthless Records?
Hmm, here’s an easy one: question, what kind of man buys all their clothes at Lululemon?
Question, who thought they were givin’ Fresco music lessons
Grew up on indie pop and battle rap’s just his new obsession? Question, what kind of fucking rapper disses rap with his emo friends
Battles twice a year and expects real heads to respect him? Question, how do you fit into this rap shit?
I swear to God, even if Mr. Conspiracy was 69ing Rich while I spat this
The whole crowd would still be thinking god damn Twist is a faggot

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