Dizaster vs. poRICH [Lyrics]

[Round 1: PoRich]
I wanna thank y’all for coming to the show today
Much like the Batman premier, you’ll be blown away
Now I want all my haters to just wait a sec’
I know after the 2 on 2 you were filled with pain, regret
Thinking Saurus and ‘Mac were the greatest threat
Til me and Diaz crushed them fakes and left
You consoled each other like, “Don’t worry, he’s facing Sketch.”
Then I grabbed the chain and made him play the bench
“Well, he’s gotta lose cause PH is next.”
But choking is something you can’t contest
Y’all think I’m part of some ancient pagan sect
A conspiracy, that blaming me for Ronald Regan’s death
But when you realize I have a legit claim as best
Maybe then you’ll finally know where to place your bets
And that’s why acceptance is my favorite step
Now I’m not here to hear your Darth Vader breath
Everything you say’s a mess
Y’all don’t take offense, you wouldn’t give a fuck if I stomped your noisy neighbor pet
It’s the same thing
Don’t play the bench, help me throw the body in the pool or we can blame the vet
Now watch this sadist flay his chest
Blood dripping down his back, it’ll make him wet
Anything can happen when I take my checks
You might stumble, choke, faint from stress
Anything can happen when I take my checks
You might slip on a banana peel and break yo’ neck
Anything can happen when I take my checks
One bear claw cave his chest, the razor’s edge where his veins connect
Dizaster’s the name you used to gain respect
But I won nine straight battles boy I came correct
And this is victory number 10, now your name is X
Now how you making shots to be the face of death
Hand picking minor leaguers, taking baby steps
Boy, who’d you face to get this main event?
The kids in kangaroo country? Muscles’s glasses?
Acting like you house leagues but really just play select
And that’s why you’ll never make a rep
It looks like Gonzo’s mom’s nose
You look left and I’ll and Alfonso’s bong bro
My dick like Jon Snow’s longbow
And It’s Not Unusual like Tom Jones to find me in your mom’s home
And what do I do?
What do you think?
Fuck her ’til the vag’ falls out then leave that cunt in the sink
She got that pussy with the sardine scent
Bitch’ll show you more face than Harvey Dent
Trust me, you want no part of it
She on the floor, throat gargling
Bitch got them Bruce Wayne knees, no cartilage
So you wanna clash with ‘Po? I’m the League Of Shadow’s bro
Now your back is broke
Then I jack your cash, now the bat is broke
The Bane of your existence, you don’t have a hope
When I climb out this hole, you can’t have the rope
You just set up, punchlines, chaperon
Don’t believe me? Ask Charron
You couldn’t get a murder here with a pack of crows
Sunny day I’m Bluejays way time to crack your dome
When I’m done, all they’ll find is a bag of bones
How apropos
It’s high tide, high time to let the Kraken go
Shit you never seen, like backpacking through the Galapagos
Or the Kung Fu Panda dragon scroll
And you wanna clash with ‘Po
I’ll grab ya hoe, put it through her legs like Bajio
Wait nine months and drop off a stack of Milton Bradley doe
What’s up with how you rapping bro?
It’s like watching Aladdin go through a massive stroke
You’re a faggot though
[?] light ’em up, Kim Mitchell on the patio
Clicking and flashing, Mac photo
You can’t judge me, Mad promo
Think it’s an underlying issue how I got keys beside my drink
Like the Mad logo
But one day we all have to go
And when I die, I want to be stuffed and left in a permanent reaction pose
Now let’s get predictable
You sound middle school by principle
You’re such a simple dude, what’s gotten into you?
I’m visceral
A passion that burns, I savagely worked, you never ran after the perps
Only asked for the perks, now watch your se-
Now watch your – aaww fuck
You never ran after the perps
Only asked for the perks
Now watch your capital worth go from apples to worms
I get action with words when I ask it or slur
Bang your mom on your bed of nails, “Oooh these mattresses hurt.”
She’s a bitty I can mess with, left the girl breathless
Then unload a pearl necklace
Now my phone ringing, “Yeah I’m hoe hitting.”
Got it going overhead like Jerome Simpson
I’m making mad movements cash ruling
Hitting faggots with hadoukens for looking like Bas Rutten and Rasputin
That’s stupid
This a battle you losing
I’m here to rule forever like Vladamir Putin
Now more on the grand you get put in for having input when you shouldn’t
Piece to my wood chain, I know y’all thought it bothered me
It’s like a stiff chick on top of me
Watch, one slice, give him a quick lobotomy
Drop him six feet coffin deep
Leave the chain on his tombstone, it’s that Rich mahogany
Now back to me hitting your mommy D
I keep that cougar in the car, I’m Ricky Bobby D
You little heja hermaphrodite
You wanna have a fight?
Y’all better hold him back tonight
Or you’re gonna lose one of your boys like Mix Master Mike

[Round 1: Dizaster]
This motherfucker just looked at my homie from Scarborough and said I’d better hold him back tonight
The moment you made that statement they almost already stabbed you twice
Listen you faggot hoe, you said something about me like when Aladdin goes
But I’d rather be like Aladdin than look like a little midget Leonardo DiCaprio
Aye listen, and you said something about Bajio
And your permanent victory dancing pose
Actually looked like a faggot pose
You know what rhymes with “PoRich”?
“Short bitch”
You’re only 4’6″
You look for goldfish, maybe even swordfish
Maybe even blowfish
Or maybe even, maybe even, maybe even no fish
You call yourself PoRich, deep dick in your bitch is your slogan
But I don’t see what the point is
You get sloppy drunk you don’t even know what intercourse is
The last time you had sex on the beach you finished in four sips
I mean, dig deep in your bitch
Now that’s funny that you dig deep in your bitch
Because when he goes in so does The Saurus
True story, sorry bro
Your bitch gave my broham dome with no hands like a cordless
And if it was me I would be smashing the whole chick
Then I’m cracking her whole rib
You wanna talk about mattresses I’ll fuck her til the mattress is torn and the vaginal hole rips
I’ll beat that pussy down til the point she pulls out a notepad and she forfeits
They be like, “Damn Dizaster. That is some cold shit.”
The bitch looked like Natalie Portman so I smashed her with my hammer like Thor did
Yeah, fame supported your ass through this whole shit
But don’t think for a moment that you’re actually dope Rich
Haven’t you noticed?
You’re the only one that hehe reacts to your own jokes Rich
It’s like someone did surgery on your upper half and removed your four ribs
So you know Marilyn Manson would both click because both of you are widely known for sucking your own dick
No shit
He fuck with me and he’ll get his fucking throat slit
From fucking lobe to lobe with a four inch fro pick
Next time you go to do that fucking little annoying voice switch
Where he goes from a little white boy to a pirate on a ghost ship
Fuck PoRich
You little pussy
He’s from Whitby
He chills with hippies
With his crackhead mom that billies
Hey, picture them, picture them at home
Picture on the stove cold supper
Running facet outline the gloomy background
Rust wrapped around the old cupboards
He’s in Whitby in the north suburbs
Where the territory’s marked by the gang leaders
The coyotes and the roadrunners
Your ex Vanessa is a known fluffer
She was raised by close minded white folks trapped away in Whitby away from dick until her souls suffered
That’s why when she finally got out to the real world she even let ‘Saurus fuck her
Yeah, I’ll fucking dig deep in your bitch too but I won’t touch her
I’ll just fly through the windows and open the closed shutters
And drag your baby across the sky like Viggo from Ghostbusters
Next morning you’l see me upload video
Footage of me in a liquor store killing your poor mother
This shit will feel like you living the beginning scene from Four Brothers
Nights get froze, it gets cold where Po hovers
Nights froze, homes covered
Nights drop no under 400 below
And all your fucking homies that own Hummers
Because all the four runners get stuck in the snow
I mean, in Whitby, the cats in Whitby are born hustlers
For real y’all they’re so gutter
I bet his parents literally make their own butter
A bunch of crackheads at home to broken homes and tow truckers
Where everyone in your neighborhood either looks like Dirtbag Dan or Joe Cutter
Yeah, your mother
Is a horse lover
And I don’t mean she loves horses I mean she would literally let a horse fuck her
Your population is so low in your area code that your phone number…is only four numbers
“Didn’t wanna clash with ‘Po”
“You don’t wanna clash with ‘Po”
Ahh, on second thought, actually no
You fucking little pussy
I come up to your fucking door and ring the bell like ding dong
First little skinny white bitch to answer the door
I lift her up by her pink thong and drag her up the side of the building like King kong
I know the way that I thinks wrong
I’m mentally ill like Kim Jong
When I’m pissed off everything in my way gets pissed on
Even the TV and display I have no patience to sitcom
So you, better, pray that whatever star that you wish on
Or wave your magic witch wand
Cause me letting you leave here with that chain still on
Will be the same day you catch me playing ping pong while listening to a Jin song
Hold on, I’m about to end it
Your boy Diaz, is a little fucking midget that gets punked and picked on
He reminds me of someone from back home, this kid Juan
He used to trim lawns
But dont you dare mention Islam
Cause I’ll uppercut you with that open burning fist palm
The gun I got
Might not be able to kill everybody you bring on
But fuck it at least I’ll make a Couple Retreat like Vince Vaughn
Yo, you tried your whole life to-
Your whole wi-your whole life nameless after trying to make it for this long
So congratulations Rich, you’re Finally Famous like Big Sean

[Round 2: RichPo]
This guy’s calling me a hick, shit’s just stupid and obscure
Besides, you’re just mad I bought your bitch the denim overalls and the boots with the spurs
A battle with you ain’t a test that I’ve been stressing
All these people think I’ve stepped to a legend
I see a bitch belly aching
His intestines have failed
But they don’t really get it, see you’re just energetic
And every second every second line you spit is just some Eminem penmanship
Or rebuttal it’s evident, really pathetic shit
Like confederates flying flags from antennas on Jetta whips
Now you can call me your eminence
This gentleman’s generous
I assume your presence is tentative as my assistant penciled this for the title and my defense of it
You’re long overdue to lose to a veteran
A thousand bucks, you won’t see a cent from this
But I’m sure when you go back home his dad will sue for a settlement
This is way beyond rhetoric, my win streak began in Genesis
And goes until the final ending Diz’
For now I’ll let him live. to hear a sentiment about his flow
About how you’ll never be credited since you never invented it
Just ripped it off of someone else’s mouth like a dental strip
[?] assembling I won’t need the evidence
Just don’t lie, I seen a farmer do, I know the scent of shit
You’re a denizen, no special gift
But on Twitter, he’s [?] no idea where the autocorrection is
So he’s full of meaningless, pessimist messages with repetitive expletives
But then he’ll bitch up in person so it loses effectiveness
You’re a degenerate, a feminine
The question is, are you seeing a specialist?
Cause your lack of excellence has me feeling like excellent
I’m not Canibus, you won’t catch me surrendering
Your biggest battle was with that crackhead and I bet you regretted it
Now I’m back for revenge on some Vendetta shit
I can’t stand these fans these, Bambi’s they’re venison
Who think you’re trendsetting when you lack the impressiveness
Where the fuck did you get this impression kids?
Post performance peaks when the pressure hits
I get electric and do this kite runner like Edison
Your style’s boring, bordering on the point of irrelevant
“Oh I’m gonna predict a line with my telekinetic gifter
Pick a multi and stretch it past the point of embellishment.”
Shut the fuck up!
Either sell it or shelf it bitch
You selfish bitch
Crack this crab for the white meat
You shell fish bitch
I will beast mode championship belt this bitch
You got no pen game and it’s never contested
Ain’t y’all tired of hearing the same set ups and freestyles ever second?
One more boring minute of this unimportant gimmick
I’ll travel back to ’84 and drop your mom at the abortion clinic
This ain’t Scribble Jam, spontaneity don’t make the scene
What you make up is Maybelline, it’s make believe
You’re nothing but basic schemes like ABC, it’s lame and cheap, it’s c’est la vie
Y’all paid his fee, his plane was free, a place to sleep
It makes me Earl (hurl) like Jason Lee
Half the crowd just came to see if you wear that gay wristband made of anal beads
You fuckin’ weird ass
You cried during police raids even when they don’t throw tear gas
You’re not a terrorist with an A bomb
Around your way the guns don’t stay drawn
No one on the block get’s Trayvon’d
You out in L.A. where it’s sunny all day long
You should face palm
Your past ain’t strong just cause you walk the dogs for Akon
And water the plants when Drake’s gone
You’ve never had struggles to take on
Your entire life sounds like a fuckin’ Ma$e song
“From the sand dunes, fly out to Cancun
The weed coming from Vancou’ with [?]
Got the caviar out of Agraba
Don’t believe the kid, you can ask Jafar
Got a hole in one to the branches pa
Mom’s backroom deals at the Zanzibar
I went from chillin’ in the womb to the silver spoon
Now every room’s like the Louvre or King Tut’s tomb
Each couch got you feeling like a beach house
You can touch the sand when you put your feet out.”
See you had a crib, when you had a crib and you had all that
And you had all that before you had a bib
Way back you couldn’t consider it
Now you’re lampin’ with the genie and the wish is unlimited
Court side seats to the Laker’s game
But if Beaver isn’t there than it ain’t the same
He usually go the Louie V suit with me
But I bought a DVD so that Gucci free
Bitches be like “Who is he?”
Soon to be on a losin’ streak
So I dust off the gators and you move your feet
Tip tapping on these marble floors
Live fly and die young it’s what your carpet’s for
At the swap meet, getting what I bargained for
Then I stopped in Santa Cruz for the art dejour
Now who you know got the nice clothes and fast cars?
Dizaster’s parents
Now who you know got a backyard in the backyard?
Dizaster’s parents
Now who you know got a king’s ransom on each arm?
Dizaster’s parents
Now who you know got a helipad on the front lawn?
Dizaster’s parents
You live at home? Shit me too!
Why not? Free food, clean room, always there if your parent’s need you
I mean they shelter and feed you
It’s what you can at least do
Nah I’m playin’, I know you ain’t made for that
Besides, we all know you got a maid for that
How can any of us relate to that?
You even got Mad Illz to rake your grass
On the condition you go back to Grind Time and make it last
You should play like Wurdz and just take a Pass
You be coming home like Puffy Combs
At the table eating Honey Combs spittin’ racial undertones
Pretending you’re in the Thunderdome
This cat’s past lame, I bet when you have bad days
You lock yourself in the pantry where your fat black maid keeps the snack packs safe
Don’t deny it you damn liar it’s true
Fuck up this boy scout, camp fire your crew
And since we couldn’t get the guy from Swollen Members
Eh, I guess this man child (Madchild) will do

[Round 2: Dizaster]
Ayo, those are some good, “you live with your parents” lines
But you gotta throw all those tools out
Cause guess what pussy?
Unlike you I made it off of battle rappin’ and I finally moved out
So guess what?
I don’t live my parent dude
I don’t live my parents and you ain’t ready for what I’m prepared to do
Your skin texture is the same color of fucking carrot juice
You and your fucking homeboys are a fuckin’ pair of fruits
With your fucking faggot ass homie lashed onto your back like a fuckin’ parachute
Yes, you’re gonna fucking embarrass who?
If you lived in U.S.A. you’d be such a stereotypical hick Aryan American fairy dude
That the girl that you’re married to
That you been with since you were barely two and she’s the same one your uncle Larry screwed
Talkin’ ’bout the least I can do for my parents
But last week I gave my pops $3,000 and not even to borrow
What you know about $3,000 if you had that you’d go blow it on a bottle
You little pussy cause I will teach you about responsibility
That here is mine cause I could give it authenticity
No I’m serious dude, you should listen
I’m serious, this is not even a battle
We set you up nicely to ask you kindly before we remove you from this position
See my friends here at King of The Dot have a future and a vision
Without you up in it but before we remove you there’s some rules and conditions
First you figure out the formula for the solution mission
Before you crown someone as “that dude” let’s take a look at all the views he’s getting
How do you expect to expand Toronto as a movement and make a huge division
When the dude representing you has his own show on Youtube and his show on Youtube only has two subscriptions
I get it, you’re trying to ruin your image
I mean, look at his fucking social networking skills
How the fuck are you speaking?
You got 800 followers on Twitter
I get 400 a week so I cover your career in two weekends
Little short people like you they lose on the deep end
Nights get cold, 40 below freezing
The sky turns Grey
I am a wolf, you are my prey, he’s Liam Neeson
Think about it
Maybe have a drink around it
And open your brain and let it sink around it
You’re looking at me like this fucking kid’s astounding
I’ll fucking kill his ass
I’ll fucking back slap him, I’ll prolly knock off his fucking fitted cap
Talking bout Scribble Jam
This ain’t no, little midget plan
That you think you have in your inner hand
This is, two types of people in life
One that catches the fish, the other catches the fisherman
And one, hops on to the boat and literally snaps that fuckin’ ship in half
And sails back on the land using the upper piece of deck
That’s still in tact, by using it as, a swimmin’ raft
I fucking, survival of the instinct
It’s called survival of the instinct we rely on thinking fast
I fucking click clack bam, hit your staff with bigger straps
Then the ones big fat lesbian dyke bitches use to keep their plastic dick attached
You getting stomped with a boulder
You getting killed so badly your faggot ass homie felt like he had to start massaging your shoulders
Yeah I’ll smack you dude, I smack you dude
And you getting killed and he’s still clapping too
This is hardcore
Mixing the rage with freestyle that is a art form
You, don’t contribute to this bars form
Your wings will not soar you are the hip-hop version of Concord
Your bars, made out of cardboard
You are a clone, like Star Wars
Yeah, you get more than you all for
Catch headshots while you’re on tour
Every single artery inside of your hearts torn
Next time you get in a elevator shaft
I hope half, of you, gets stuck in that large door
Then it continues downward with your body just your head remains on the top floor
That’s the type of shit that I pray to God for
Your body getting chopped up and mutilated and washing up somewhere off shore
Or ran the fuck over with a Beamer or Benz or a Dodge Ford
Or whatever automobile from Grand Theft Auto I need to earn me the top score
Do you want more?
I unwedge, so many fucking shells you feel like it’s Mario Cart 4
I flip his wings like a conchord
Body him underneath a golf course
And slash your head off with your Jafar’s sword
Do you want more?
Well I don’t got more
You’re a fuckin’ joke
What a waste of time face it
Your basic rhymes will never take you to higher places
Yeah you Playstation
You on a final stage but I’m at a higher plane
Already fighting with the guy that designed The Matrix
How long before that thin little wire breaks
And you decide to finally take off that chain Rich
The idol is, the title is idleing around cause the guy that claims it
Doesn’t have the fire or desire, or the pride to make it a chain
Worth fighting for
That’s why he’s complacent
And the value, of the title of the guy tryin’ to embrace it
Cannot get someone of a higher stage
Then eventually come here and end up tryin’ to take it
Then that’s when you know you need to find a replacement
You die when the fire rages
I strike like workers fightin’ for higher wages
White supremacist, supresacist white faces
Stepford, design faces
I said you find cases of shells from the nine on the side pavement
And wake up in a hospital room surrounded by five patients
Staring at each other sideways while being held up by spine braces
I said I’ll bike chase him, down the street and hang you upside down by your Nike laces
And beat you down so bad the cops will catch me and arrest me for being a child rapist
I’ll make this whole place live and fucking vibrate like a live bassist
I’ll fucking pull your card while simultaneously slapping you in the face with five aces
Knocking over your empty Canada Dry cases
I got stamina, I got stamina you could never match up with my cadence
Every step in my life, is like a battle with my patience
Not to snap, and go postal like the white guy from rampage did
I snap, then I bandage lids
I backhand you, throw you off a man made bridge
You fall, and on your way down, you crack eight ribs
And when you fall you’ll end up face flat like this mornings pancakes did
Or, A-Class the pan face kid

[Round 3: PoRich]
He said he gave his dad $3,000 oh you must’ve been proud bitch
He turned around your mom was like “He’s finally payin’ us back some of that allowance.”
Now don’t mistake me bitch
I’m the king, my name is Rich
Watch me DNA this bitch
I hate you bitch
I will rape you bitch
Tell the crowd your true story, Arcane you bitch
He’s mad right now, Pat Stay you bitch
I will leave this venue right now, Drake you bitch
Yeah I dissed that kid, put it behind you
What’s worse, having someone hate you and never sign you
Or think you’re amazin’ and never sign you?
See they said a battle with Dizaster is madness, with nothin’ to base it on
Just how fast that he’s rapping
It’s like Slim Shady only lacking the passion but still hates his mom and thinks his dad is a faggot
Break his legs watch him limp away
Everything you spit is gay
Your battle with Illmaculate was like watching Forrest Gump
Shrimp and AIDS
Someone asked me how this battle might go
I said, “He’s either gonna rap like a cyclone or psycho or Syco”
He’s just a giant nerd
The same kind of perp who hides behind a skirts and gets fucked ’til his vagina hurts
This guy’s blowing up like a firework
And soon his ashes will fall silently across the entire Earth
Someone tell me what this tyrant’s worth?
Face it fag I’m Breaking Bad, my method works like Heisenberg
These days [?] rap richer, the kid is a god figure becoming the top figure
Feeling like the allies when they stomped Hitler
Life ain’t a promo, don’t act like we all winners
I’ll knock you head on the wall fixture beside a bottle of malt liquor
This faggots a ball licker
You’re still waiting on JumpOff to drop the stock pictures
Of you Syanide trying to decide who’s cock’s bigger
You and Jin have something in common, your taste for dog liver
If that’s what’s in every one of your mom’s dinners
It’s no wonder your pop’s ticker won’t last through a long winter
He’s all balmy, got that curry breath
All close to me trying to play off the nervousness
So close I can see his shirt is wet cause your furry chest
Is shooting bursts of sweat drippin’ from your turban head down your dirty neck
It’s perfect that your mom burka instead of a purple dress
It helps to circumvent her pussy’s murky scent
While keeping her maturing breasts lactating and propped up like she pops a Percocet
I’ll rub my honky meat on those Islamic feet
I’d be glad to hit it, had her in the sack in minutes
From Iraq to my sack, now that’s rags to Riches
In high school the bullies would curb stomp and shove your ass in the Hurt Locker
Is that what caused your down syndrome?
Or was it too much halal chicken combined with the sound of loud bitchin’
At every family event where you’re surrounded by brown women?
I think it’s great you were raised by a religion that’s all fiction
No really, I roll up on him quotin’ that shit like he don’t know it’s weird
“So what’s this holy gospel you’re quotin’ queer?
The Koran? C’mon
And who’s this divine deity you think is so revered?
Allah? Psst, I’ll ah be over here.”
You better come with a Goku power up
One line I hit this pound of flesh
Send him back to selling Mt. Dew and [?]
I don’t know what kind of crack or chron’ you’re on
But your style of rapping is not what they meant when they said, “Fasting for Ramadan.”
And the Muslim jokes have to happen
Or he’d have nothin’ to talk about when battle rappin’
True story right?
Fuck that middle eastern army
Y’all are sweeter than a day at the beach with Barbie
Or a pizza party with Aziz Ansari
After they battle the king, they’re never the same
So may the best man win
And you’ve never been to a weddin’ in your life that wasn’t arranged
You’re pathetic [?] you became westernized
And let America infect your mind
You’re no Jihadist you fuckin’ liar
They strapped a bomb to your chest, you bitched out and cut the wires
If you’re really a carnivore who knows the art of war
Then when you get over the boarder hit the closest Target store
And work on your marksmen score
What’s a few more dead infidels on the New York Harbor shore?
You got no fucking sense of cultural identity
You’ll never be certain
When you die and get to pick your 70 virgins
I bet not even 10 of ’em Persian
HFK in the back like “What a rookie
You’ll always be a step behind me you Muslim pussy.”
And y’all shouldn’t treat him like Jesus and allow him to win
Just because his face resembles the shroud of Turin
And wasn’t he in The Mummy? Yeah dude I think so
Remember they threw a cat at him
He turned into sand and flew out the window
I’m ready to brawl homo
It’s the leader of the dwarf lords
Vers’ the leader of the horse lords; Khal Drogo
Y’all can say that he’s strong but I ain’t playing along
I’m Tyrion Lannister, it’s always brains over brawn
Fuck this poor pretender
The same guy who said, “All Canadians are faggots.”
Well guess what faggot; The north remembers
You spent your life making different enemies
It’ll get this nerd shot
I’m King Richard’s Hennessy and you’re barely a knight
I dub thee Sir Rock (Ciroc)
Like the vodka, P. Diddy, you owe me a check
I always knew you’d battle Canibus one day
Ever since that one night you started rappin’ about UFO’s vers’ DNA
Yeah, I saw that battle coming a mile away
Just like the UFO you saw a mile away!
Oh wait, you Ripped The Jacker, you ain’t shit?
Now you have some cult following on some doomsday tip?
I guess that means people to drink the Kool-Aid with
You should’ve asked for a better name
Oh, another guy beat Canibus, so what? Some things never change
Especially in Canada where we smoke Canibus (cannabis) everyday!
Another dead American, I bury them in bulk
And since you’re all such good swimmers
Do ’em like the Little Mermaid, Ariel (aerial) assault
Long live the king!

[Round 3: Dizaster]
Oh Richie, oh little fucking midget Richie
He’s so anti American, so so arrogant
Bare witness to a pair of fists to go bear fishin’
I dare him to square off he’s a scared chicken so I spare ribs
Look, we can wear mittens take it there I give you the fear of whippin’
But what’s the merit in using your bare fists
When I can shove a pair of scissors in your larynx
And increase the air in it and put a tear in it per square inch
These are, rare clips Blair Witch footage
Il take you on a stair case like Zepplin beware rich
This ain’t about me and you tryna compare wits
This is about me, and that fucking necklace you wear Rich
This is about you, bein’ a pussy
Not bein’ responsible enough to wear it
Yeah, fuck what ‘Po is telling me
You wanna make me look like I’m the fucking anti-Canadian
When really to this company, you’re the enemy
Your the one that holds this company back from moving forward as a corporate entity
When you suppose to be the face of this movement
And you bad mouth a globally known celebrity
Like, “Drake, you shoulda totally mentioned me.”
Instead of keepin’ composure, instead of keepin’ composure like a real champ
You just ran your mouth over and over endlessly
You showed Organik you have no loyalty, no fidelity
Your own perception of what taking course is what, warped you mentally
Because you showed, you making motions that form from jealousy
That’s why I came here, to take the throne that was meant for me
Cause real battle rappers keep the battle rappin’ and emotions separately
From the message boards disrespectin’ me
I never knew why you were so upset with me
You little bitch, I feed you the lowest form of pedigree
I will, go after ya, bust open your head with the chrome relentlessly
And open up your dome like you know telepathy
Toronto, is my destiny
I’m comin’ here, I’m passing the border know what?
And if they deny me at the foreign embassy
Then I’m gonna fucking force my entry like open sesame
Fuck what fucking ‘Po is telling me
Hes been a lost soul his whole life, so let him be
After I sock his ass in the skull, I’m gonna warp his memory
And when he wakes up in the morning he won’t remember me or his Born Identity
You said I had to do some practicing on my marksmanship
This fucking guy is retarded
I’m already on my flying carpet
And I’ve acquired my target
Hey look everybody it’s the fuckin’ guy from Departed
You wanna say I don’t deserve a plane flight but I paid the cost to be the major boss
You deserve the spot, I say you not
The day I take a loss is the day you see Jin taking off his sacred cross
You, sweeter than strawberry shortcake with apricots
I kick your door down while you at the dinner table searing Salisbury steak with tatter tot
Open up the door, bang, let the thang go off
Bang bang bang, get your brain blown off
It look like someone spilled Prego sauce all over your grandmothers table cloth
Then I’ll fucking grab you by your face, I’ll grab you and drag your face across
A custom made frame, made out of Vega’s claws
And run outside and rape your favorite dog and make all your fuckin’ neighbors watch
I run into your house kick and the door open on the same shit that Kramers on
Like, “Who’s cooking filet migon?”
Then I roll into the fuckin’ kitchen and I’ll rape your mom and make her keep her apron on
I throw her fucking, naked body on the neighbors lawn
And wait for a fuckin’ late response
Yeah, I do the follow the great Koran
And there’s another book, A Thousand Different Ways To Make A Bomb
You wanna be a, you wanna be psychotic
Then let us get our cyber gaming on
When I strike you and your entire face is gone like I sliced you with one of those flying plates from Tron
C’mon dawg, you ain’t a King Of The Dot champ, you a vagabond
On the bandwagon tagging along
Yeah, the day you beat me
That’s like catching Shaq and Lebron, at a tanning salon
That’s like an actual radio station playin’ an actual Canibus song
You’re an addict, am I wrong?
I mean c’mon you’re fucked outta your mind and judgin’ from the path that you’ve gone
You make no music, you don’t have no actual songs
So the only tracks you’ve been on belong on Hollohan’s arms
I strike, with no fore warnin’
I perform like George Foreman when he’s cornered in
Yeah, I perform like George Foreman when the eye of the storms formin’
I’ll tie him up to a rope and hold em up in force and forking his skull
And leave his face torn til it looks like deformed foreskin
I will fuckin’ grab him by his throat and cold choke him
I put him in a choke hold like Hulk Hogan
I’ll fuckin’ bust the side of your dome open and leave the corner of your nose broken
With your bones showing like both Olsens
He’s always dissing Drake and yapping off
Doesn’t wanna give the man his props ’til his ass gets caught
Slapped and tossed, jabbed and socked, backhanded tossed
Smacked across his fucking Macintosh until it cracks and drops
And his mother runs in the fuckin’ room like, “What happened to the Apple laptop that daddy bought?”
I guess your computer crash a lot
Yeah, that’s when I go downstairs and grab your pops
And smack him with an empty leftover glass of Scotch
Yeah, I’ll fuckin’ jack him for his pack of [?]
Then I’ll ram his head to the back of the fucking padded locks
I’ll, run in the open, open the walk in closet run in and hit him with every can in stock
I’ll fucking hit him with fucking empty canisters
Plastic mops, the lamp fuck it I’ll even grab the clock
Yo, I’ll have my homie camouflage sabotage your family spot
So bad it look like the Japanese tsunami after shock crashed your block
Talking ’bout “Why do you book flights?”
Can you believe this guy? “Why do you book flights?”
When the champion of your country is a crackhead from Whitby tell me, what does it look like?
I mean, my man right here is the second most downloaded artist in Canada and he’s living that hood life
So why the fuck would they wanna support a little white boy who’s the shook type
The only reason he’s here so I can give you an example of what a real Canadian rapper should look like!
Hold on, fuck that, fuck that, I still got more shit!
Talking ’bout “Dig deep in your bitch.”
I’ll end up scrapin’ his ass
It don’t matter I already won it so let me finish that fast
You my fucking bitch, I’ll fucking end up rapin’ her ass
I’ll shove a baseball bat straight in her ass then I’ll break it in half
Face it you’re wack, embrace this ass kicking your getting your trachea cracked
You’l be like Steve-O from Jackass, or at least you’ll be able to relate to his tats
When I twist your neck backwards and it basically snaps
And you’ll end up with your own face on your back
Fuck outta here! Give me my chain!

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