Looks like we really doing this
Going at each other in different ways
But Iíll take the risk, Iíll try a diss,
God I could talk shit for days, gonna need a raise,
to raise you from the dead
Iím not even that great at this yet,
but Iíll bet, Iíve still managed to get, in your head
Always so colorful when you write
But I bet when you type,
that your shit ainít even that hype.
Cause we ainít seeing color here,
I thought thatís pretty clear...
So your words just look all jumbled,
Tried to catch a pass and ya, fumbled.
And everything that glitters ainít gold,
But that sayingís so old, cause we both know,
That my shit is better, it certainly glitters,
Made of gold, thatís what Iíve always been told
I could put a space between each letter
A real go getter, still get all the bitches wetter,
Thatís not even my real aim here,
I donít even like bitches, tiresome wenches
I think thatís pretty clear,
You looking like a deer, in headlights,
ainít that right or is it a moose, eh?
We playing duck duck goose, aye,
And youíre 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
Thatís crumbled, just a bunch of rock
Place your face on this choppin block
Gonna get that shit, rocked
I donít mind, Iíve got time, and Iíll split it
I'll make it rhyme, and make it mine
But can I borrow your plaid please sir?
Thereís this real nice fir, and itíd just be ...nicer,
If I could simulate the lumberjack,
that is your essence, leaving my very presence
Knock a little bark off, cause itís 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 thatís okay, little jack, if youíre a bit wack
Using words that even I ainít heard
Tweeting like a little bird, so absurd
We heard you, the first, second, and third time
Itís just youíre pretty sublime, in comparison
Youíre like the woody Harrelson, of poetry
I know you tryiní, to float like a butterfly and
maybe sting like a bee,
but youíll always be, just another plan B
Cause plan A looks just like me,
youíve already seen, that I can spit it, the fucking queen.
Thatís who ya looking at, wishing you had that
Cause, ya ainít got much, ainít 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 ó
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 ó the test!
Before I lay your body to rest,
think Iíll 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.