Bamalam vs. Bender [Lyrics]

[Round 1: Bender]
Now I wasn’t really expectin’ anyone special Eurgh
But I take this as a ‘fuck you’ givin’ me this competitor
Well I heard you loud and clear so now I’m here to kill the messenger and have Bamalam’s fam searchin’ through Leeds like detective work
One thing goin’ into this I was extra sure of
You’re the most overrated motherfucker no one’s ever heard of
You shoulda stayed behind the scenes Bambi, but we know ya’ type
A little bitch that got sucked into the static, that’s a Poltergeist
You know he likes to rap about his background to his best ability
Said he’s like one-thirteenth Ugandan like that affects his credibility
Walkin’ up to these ciphers, thinkin’ he can get down with these rappers
Villun looked him right in the face, said “Get the fuck outta here cracker”
Sonny I’ma see that green, you color blind, I’m much too bright
You rub your eyes like sun is risin’ up above and just ignites can’t touch my shine
Shut your blinds, ultraviolets fuck up your sight a hundred times what the sun provides, but fuck it, that’s just somethin’ light
Hand me a demo I’m like, “Really Pat? Gimme that”
I toss your mixtape in the shitter, call me Skinny Black
Half expectin’ a heckler to pull a Heckler and click it back
Put you out your fuckin’ misery, that’s a pity clap
So this is me erasin’ Bam’s future
You blew your shot before you took it, that’s a flaming sambuca
So you gettin’ me today, I wouldn’t be entertaining the thought
That’s like Bowski hoppin’ a fence tryna get away from the cops
I shapeshift, take on a secondary form
One breath knocked your wind out the second air born
My whole squadron over your head like the 82nd Airborne
That’s why you’ll never be king like the second heir born

[Round 1: Bamalam]
You’re like them little skets that roll deep in ends
Yesterday you went to meet my friends, got beat come back and today you’re gettin’ beat again
But when it comes to battles, this is my toughest to date
Not because you’re someone that’s great but thanks to Eurgh and Cruger I literally have nothing to say
But if I had to start, I didn’t even bring no battle bars
Just I ain’t seen a Bender this big on stage since Alan Carr
I mean most rappers name themselves after the type of man they are
And yours suggest you pick up men when you’re at the bar
See, Eurgh said “Take these bars to use on Bender”
I said “Bruv, our friendship ain’t like you and Sensa”
I ain’t losin’ ever ain’t no question who is better
When his delivery’s worse than how Royal Mail try and move my letters
See I don’t think the Futurama name you chosen is right, you’re more closer to Fry
‘Cause you rap like someone that’s been frozen in time
See, you claim that alcoholism is a known condition
You should see the way this bloke be livin’
Drunk or sober he doesn’t know the difference, he’s at a friend’s house, goes to kitchen
Rolls in, rolls out, claims it’s prohibition when bottles start goin’ missin’
Really he’s stealing drinks like Moe from Simpsons when Homer’s with him
How does your missus deal with the way that you’re livin’?
She must wake up every night like there’s a break in the kitchen
Comes down to find you in a state ’cause you’re drinkin’ attemptin’ to make a late-night plate full of chicken
“Let’s go to bed,” but that ain’t what she’s thinkin’
‘Cause your size and shape keeps changin’ and switchin’
See, you can no longer fuck in your favorite positions looks like it’s not just you who deals with the weight of addiction
You got that troubled artist vibe
You rap like you’re livin’ but your heart is died
You spend half your time tellin’ people they’ll appreciate your art when you pass this life
‘Cause you do portraits of famous people when you grab a painting brush
And make a livin’ off celebs’ image more than a talent agent does
That’s fake as fuck, let me break it up
You’re the same as YouTubers who do cover songs to try to make a buzz
So if you claimin’ you’re an artist then, and your rapping’s like your paintin’, I think I’ll pass with them
I mean imagine, he clutches the brush
He’s got half a face like Harvey Dent and he, fucks it all up crosses it out and has to start again
‘Cause comin’ off the top? You get sliced in seconds, mind in segments
I’m like when silent enters and a life has ended and the artist paintin’ his own death like Isaac Mendez
I’ll put this vet in the grave
You get deaded today and after this battle no one will remember your face but that’s just another soldier gone on Remembrance Day

[Round 2: Bender]
This competition’s been basic, why make my rhymes too cerebral?
I feel like Michael Cera in This Is the End, I’m just wastin’ lines on you people
Big Ben’, I clean your clock out, you are not prepared
I’ll take your face off if your hands are slow, that’s watch repair
I know a lot in here would love to see him duffed out in person
But that could threaten the event, and this young sprout ain’t worth it
His last name is Watts, I’m thinkin “Son how that’s perfect”, let me run down just how this works
If my hand made contact with Watts, I’d probably catch a charge
And if that line gets crossed it could shut down the circuit
Your wins have been controversial, anyone he’s faced would agree
You call ’em close calls? Those robberies all seem major to me
I had Cee takin’ all three, but you messed up on purpose, I bet that you did
Sayin’ you planned a choke, my team invented that shit
I said that ya’ chick, should host these events, I seen footage that slut’s done
Fucked out of her brains in a room full of dudes on tape more than Lush One
That ratchet’s got you gassed if you thinkin’ that you rap nice
I think that, Peter Parker may’ve got bit by some radioactive crab lice
Last night, went to her office, she was lookin’ kinda cute
Said she’d give me a peep show, we went to a private room
Shameless, got in between her, shit, what was I to do?
She’d suck an artichoke through a garden hose, now that’s a mighty boosh
Tie this noose, put this video up, call it “Faggot Limey Gets Bodied”
Or call it whatever you want, I don’t really care about the title like Shotty
Bring me any Don’t Flop rapper, I chop off all of their heads
And tell Eliza Doolittle I’m the monster on top of the bed
Now let’s get this clear
Nah it’s not a choke, a moment of silence for Bam’s career

[Round 2: Bamalam]
He just did a TV fucking show scheme, that’s some really good shit
But I swear like a year ago I beat the guy 100 Bulletz and he’s the one that went to do it
Anyway, that was a flip, and that was just shit but let’s get back into it
It doesn’t matter if he’s home, away, sober, straight, his flow will fade
Slow your pace, it’s sounding like you smoked for days and your throat’s in pain you’re so overweight your vocals strain with everything you go to say
I, know you hate, that your bars go from dope on page, to coming off like throwaways, but that’s the nature of multis mate
‘Cause forerunners like you hardly remain, anyone in King of the Dot could ask for the chain
I mean, past are the days they’d, marvel and say that your barring is great
And I thought that Benders were meant to get harder with age
This game’s about survival, fuck being crowned and titled
No toilet humor, but you had your chain pulled and flushed out in a downward spiral
I don’t know why you get the respect that you do
Every verse is never progressive or new
So many bad performances I bet you regretted a few but you’re a stuntman, you fell off for your career and now we expect it of you
If I had gone to Asia, I woulda written my battle on the way but, I wouldn’t have forgot it later
Next time I hope FlipTop don’t pay ya’, ’cause you got hit with your own ‘sorry player’ and got killed by a Protege like when Obi-Wan lost to Vader
So fuck your recent iBattle, and the money payed, you don’t deserve
I tried viewing, watching battles ain’t supposed to hurt
But every round, you mumbled a broken verse
You were looking like a rugby player the way you stumbled and choked on Dirt
I don’t think the way you rap is better
You can sound great on acapella but you dance around the punch more than capoeira
Your rap’s a reflection of the mess you are
When Bender starts it’s, multis in every part and just when you think it’s getting hard he becomes untethered fast
I can’t figure out how an alcoholic keeps consistently forgetting bars
How long’s it been since you dropped something popping?
I can’t be the only one watches your battles and wants to stop ’em
You’re not, dope ’cause you have a couple schemes not forgotten just been living off that Syd Vicious death longer than Johnny Rotten
Remember all them days, you coulda ruled the game, but you dropped out of the big leagues, wishing to be called again
You remind me of Kenny Powers the way you struggle with your fall from fame
So you need to learn to handle your pride, Danny McBride
I know at some point you were a talented guy but quit tryna find multis that can apply to your actual life and learn to direct them when you battle a guy and that is just time

[Round 3: Bender]
You tryna push an album on your looks and talent? That couldn’t happen
You look like Woody Allen, if he was hooked on Valium, and you’re ’bout half as good at rappin’
Butt boy you’se a fuck toy for Eurghkel’s personal army
You shoulda stuck behind cam like the Conservative Party
It’s not the links you traveled, it’s not how connected you are, it’s the bars you bring to battles
So this platform’s great to push your music Bam, it’s a thing of value
But don’t be thinkin’ you’re a star ’cause your tracks link in the English channel
You gettin’ mangled, I’m Jason Vorhees drinkin’ virgin blood in a pagan orgy
Break a 40 bottle ‘cross your face and make you say you’re sorry
A ragin’ war beast, goin’ out in a blaze of glory climbin’ 80 stories up the Shard while planes are aimin’ for me
My brain’s on warp speed, I got fucked up head problems like Hunter S. Thompson when he stuck his best shotgun in his mug and then popped one
Half monster, half Mossberg, saw it off if you get me
Ain’t no sawed-off knock this sod off this bear will maul you like a grizzly
Shit, I hit the weapon storage locker ‘fore I stepped on board the chopper
My shit’s sweet like Twin Peaks, you gettin’ Laura Palmer’ed
No metaphor, I metamorph to a 20 story monster
If you think he’s real, he might deserve a Best Performance Oscar
This is, Robert Oppenheimer shit, you ain’t ready for this slaughter
I got hate for your mother, I got resent towards your father
I wish they spent the 40 dollars on the French abortion doctor Henry Morgentaler so you were never born at all, I call it death before dishonor

[Round 3: Bamalam]
Let me ask you this
Why do you take opponents that aren’t as sick and always battle the wack type?
I mean you coulda had DNA, Charlie Clips, but instead this man hides
Looking at your whole career you only battled two and those facts just don’t add right
I figured out your problem Bender, you just don’t like black guys
I mean, you’ll never battle the Smack type, quit panicking son, you ain’t challenging none
Just because they rap about guns don’t mean they gonna turn up to your battle actually carrying one
I bet you hate your liver for how black it’s become
He can judge an entire battle before the matchup is done
Because if he finds out only one of the battlers has an African mum he’s like ‘Yep, that other guy automatically won”
You won’t attend the Blackout events, ’cause you hate the title name
Racists are the guys I hate, you vers’ Dirt looked two hillbillies arguing at a white pride parade
You told Charron, that his BET verse slayed
Then you found out that he got dropped in the worst way called him up and was like “You shouldn’t have tried to entertain blacks in the first place”
I hope you die, on your birthday
So I’d go as far to say, you’re the biggest racist in King of the Dot
Entire horror films take him just a minute to watch ’cause after the black guy dies first he -click- instantly stops
So I bet the fact that your sister fucked Head Ice really pisses him off
Ya’ sister fucked Head Ice, you know it’s true
I know she’s someone that’s close to you, but her pussy was looking like a open wound
Broken, bruised, even close to blue, so he put some Ice on it, like you’re supposed to do
You weren’t looking out like a brother should
I don’t your mother would want her grandchildren to be raised by Wolves like the Jungle Book
But I get it, she’s a fully grown woman, and you’re just her brother
The racist in you wants to punch her, but you don’t because you love her
Remember that Quill bar about ‘tongue got stuck on a Ice pole like that scene from Dumb and Dumber?’
Nah she was sucking on that Ice pole like being overheated in the summer
So you might say that, she like the Ice age rap, up all night, tryna pull a nut from Ice
You want my moral of the story, and it’s just advice
Sounds like she’s a slutty type so don’t take your sister to a battle event if she’s gonna walk off and fuck Head Ice
I think right there, I should call it a day
But just know that Pesci ain’t the only one that likes a black guy’s balls on their face

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