The Lumberjack

Looks like we really doing this
Going at each other in different ways
But I’ll take the risk, I’ll try a diss,  
God I could talk shit for days, gonna need a raise,
to raise you from the dead
I’m not even that great at this yet,  
but I’ll bet, I’ve still managed to get, in your head
 
Always so colorful when you write
But I bet when you type,  
that your shit ain’t even that hype.  
Cause we ain’t seeing color here,  
I thought that’s pretty clear...
So your words just look all jumbled,
Tried to catch a pass and ya, fumbled.
And everything that glitters ain’t gold,
But that saying’s so old, cause we both know,
That my shit is better, it certainly glitters,
Made of gold, that’s what I’ve always been told
I could put a space between each letter
A real go getter, still get all the bitches wetter,
That’s not even my real aim here,
I don’t even like bitches, tiresome wenches
I think that’s pretty clear,  
You looking like a deer, in headlights,
ain’t that right or is it a moose, eh?
We playing duck duck goose, aye,  
And you’re still gonna lose, eh?
But really how do you even get by,  
I mean do you even really try?
In a man vest, is that your very best?
Looking uncomfortable, made of stone
That’s crumbled, just a bunch of rock
Place your face on this choppin block
Gonna get that shit, rocked
I don’t mind, I’ve got time, and I’ll split it
I'll make it rhyme, and make it mine
But can I borrow your plaid please sir?
There’s this real nice fir, and it’d just be ...nicer,
If I could simulate the lumberjack,
that is your essence, leaving my very presence
Knock a little bark off, cause it’s fact
Need to knock that bark off, cause youre a, jerk off...
You got a little bark in you, but no bite on ya, boy
Just a little prick, bet you'll fight for a toy
And that’s okay, little jack, if you’re a bit wack
Using words that even I ain’t heard
Tweeting like a little bird, so absurd
We heard you, the first, second, and third time
It’s just you’re pretty sublime, in comparison
You’re like the woody Harrelson, of poetry
I know you tryin’, to float like a butterfly and
maybe sting like a bee,  
but you’ll always be, just another plan B
Cause plan A looks just like me,  
you’ve already seen, that I can spit it, the fucking queen.  
That’s who ya looking at, wishing you had that
Cause, ya ain’t got much, ain’t much of a fuss
Just a big huff or a puff, maybe a Hufflepuff,  
or puff of smoke, making ya choke,  
might even choke, on my literary —  
ha, fire, this incendiary, burning ya house down,  
here I am fixing my crown, bout to step down  
and walk thru your, ashes,  
I think this shit passes — the test!  
Before I lay your body to rest,
think I’ll just blow you a kiss,  
walk off and leave you with this

Edit: done in response to Trippin' by ExercisingDemons, to which he released Trippin' 2... and shut me up. Thank you, Liv.