This round ain’t gonna be so easy Lament, betta step up correct.

Gather ‘round fight fans, welcome to the show

My period has me cranky, I’m feelin’ a heavy flow

Lament is West Side snappin’, so I guess it’s time to throw

Gunna mount up on this oxen and pull back on his yoke

Like I caught playa taggin’ his **** all down my street

Grant him a lyrical skull ****ing ‘till I ruin the sheets

Now my seeds in your head, floatin’ in your socket

Yeah, I stole your beat, but that’s ‘cause you dropped it

Your corner is tossin’ towels praying the ref is gunna stop it

A DB model MIG has lock, you should eject from male reproductive organpit

Your ‘chute touches down, your blood begins to pound

Strainin’ not to panic while taking in what surrounds

Did that tree just move?! What the **** was that sound?!

Fear creeping ‘cause now you know you’re on enemy grounds

Hunt ya like big game, then reduce ya down to slag

Lament for your family then ship you home in a bag

A’ight, props, yo. You didn’t fail to fire back.

You tossed a wrench into my flow and had my game outta whack.

But that was yesterday, kid. And now I’m here to collect,

On the thrashing I owe you for your blatant disrespect.

You call collect, ‘cuz your Flezz don’t flow like mine.

You try to stand tall, but no one can hear you whine.

And in time, you’ll fizzle just like all the rest.

You’re drownin’ in your pipe dreams if you think you’re the best.

If you were a lifeguard, some boy would probably die,

If you swim like you rap, like a rock, you’d sink in no time.

And I’d pull you to shore, if I could find you a rope,

But now you’re drowning in a sea of failure; a lost hope.

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*cough cough cough*

Now I got some herbs in my oven, all bubblin’ and brewin’.

Watch my eyes glaze over and soon I’m all tuned in,

To the frequency that frightens all fakers away.

I’ve got you twisting in the wind. I’ll send your bum all the way to next Sunday.

You’ve held on strong up through all these grenades,

Of hate-filled harmonics raining down on your parade.

But like the little train that couldn’t, you can’t climb the hill,

But that’s the price that you pay for these kinds of cheap thrills.

So keep on truckin, my little brainfrost-bitten genius.

I’ll turn my volume down and let you close the gap between us.

Because before the gong chimes and it’s time for recess,

You’ll be pbumed out on the floor, without a heartbeat in your chest.

’CUZ YOU RUNNIN’ OUTTA BREATH fine upstanding member of society.

Lament Posted:

If you were a lifeguard, some boy would probably die,

If you swim like you rap, like a rock, you’d sink in no time.

lmao what is this ****

I hope you’re cookin’ up something delicious DB.

Lament’s tryin’ to hang and it has me at a loss

Do you think you’re Tony Danza? **** I’M the boss

I have a bevy of skill that won’t just leave you in stitches

Before you defend a coroner is cleaning **** from your britches

You were at a disadvantage as you stepped on the scene

Son, you’re just a foamy pint and I’m BINGEBOT 2015

I can’t afford a rival as new Dictator Emcee

Lock you in the shower, give you a wash of Zyklon B

Because when it’s time to battle I always play for keeps

You’ll end up like all my enemies: A chalkline in the streets

When warring MC DB the only option is retreat

You’re like a summer project rowboat against the US Naval Fleet

I spit heroin mainlined in veins that are varicose

Too late you realize the quality leaves you much more than comatose

A dominance so legendary you’ll look it up on Snopes

Only to find a single line stating, “Th-Th-That’s All Folks!”

A bad work attitude? Can you believe this dude?

Your flow leaves me hungry like some Chinese food

Now it’s time to lay it down so this charade can conclude

Break ya so completely have ya cryin’ like AAHZ’s brood

Black is my mood and should clue that you’re screwed

Like dumping you in the State pen yard completely nude

I’m one of the sadistic lifers, you can’t hold a torch

Have some hard bum fine upstanding member of societys hold ya while I **** your face hoarse

Alas, I’m a bit scraped ‘cause you gave it your all

But I’m the killer in the rest stop bathroom that leaves your brains on the stall

It’s the full-court press and you’re droppin’ the ball

You’re tantamount to garbage and I’m the cleansing squall

Blow your bum away ‘cause I don’t allow trash on my street

I’m genetically engineered for this, you can’t compete

As I leave you in a ditch I remember the tidying is incomplete

Place my kicks on your chest then proceed to wipe my feet

For sure man. It was fun going punch for punch with you.