[Round 1: Illipsis]
I said, that Isaac battle had me feelin’ like the heir to Jordan
The kid different, Eric Foreman mixed with ParaNorman
Fuck Quill! I’m here to battle the standards of rare performance
So I’ll put a plot in the planet for him like I’m terraformin’
Boy, the same crowd just came out to see who he’ll bury
‘Cause what I ink? Well…shit, I’m ‘bout to do Quill dirty
So dip, or this tryhard is headed back in a hearse
‘Cause J-Pro tres-0’d you… and he was battlin’ Eurgh
I’ll refrain from doing that and drop a single scheme on him
Ayo, Eurgh: your beard makes you look like Mr. Bean…Laden
But back to Quill…
Let’s go!
But back to Quill
Your pen light, and that battle doesn’t help
The whole time, your only quotables were “Fuckin’ hell…”
And nothin’ else!
Acting like the content that you pushin’ was deep
Don’t have appeal (a pill), but can’t deny Quill (NyQuil) put ‘em to sleep
And that’s why I’m about to prove why the pay grade different
Off top, I’ll let it rip, he think a Beyblade hit him
Cross your flag, get out-barred
Since he claim Great Britain
I’m throwin’ symbols (cymbals) at my student: I’m J.K. Simmons!
And if we get in a fight, then the comparison obvious
‘Cause you don’t really want it from the left or the right like American politics
(Yeah! Y’all didn’t warn him!)
His hard act is see-through
Don’t let this cat deceive you
I’ll scatter Quill around the city like Assassin’s Creed 2!
You can say I won’t fuck him up, that’s a common mistake
All your people can get the same: that’s a communist state
And he gon’ have that type of shit, but worse, and wit’ no conviction
You think you got this spot ‘cause you earned it with Pro? You’re trippin’
Bro, your ego got you gassed
I’m here bursting its swollen image
You are not the best here…just the worst in wrote contingent
Like…“World Dom convos - who should get flown to visit?
Who do we owe a ticket?
Who’s just here to get our international quota lifted?”
Quill’s got mediocre writtens, hopeless rhythm
“Bro, you’re kiddin’.”
No, he’s British! So it’s different!
Y’all are tokenism’s poster children
And he’s claiming he next up for the throne online
Type of dickhead to put himself in his own top five
He did that!
He’ll say I’m here to spar with the best, but I ain’t feelin’ it
Cousin, you just a star in your head: that’s the Faith Militant
Word to Isaac once more, in case, his faith may be true
Homie, God save the Queen, but He ain’t savin’ you
That’s 1
I said, that Isaac battle had me feelin’ like the heir to Jordan
The kid different, Eric Foreman mixed with ParaNorman
Fuck Quill! I’m here to battle the standards of rare performance
So I’ll put a plot in the planet for him like I’m terraformin’
Boy, the same crowd just came out to see who he’ll bury
‘Cause what I ink? Well…shit, I’m ‘bout to do Quill dirty
So dip, or this tryhard is headed back in a hearse
‘Cause J-Pro tres-0’d you… and he was battlin’ Eurgh
I’ll refrain from doing that and drop a single scheme on him
Ayo, Eurgh: your beard makes you look like Mr. Bean…Laden
But back to Quill…
Let’s go!
But back to Quill
Your pen light, and that battle doesn’t help
The whole time, your only quotables were “Fuckin’ hell…”
And nothin’ else!
Acting like the content that you pushin’ was deep
Don’t have appeal (a pill), but can’t deny Quill (NyQuil) put ‘em to sleep
And that’s why I’m about to prove why the pay grade different
Off top, I’ll let it rip, he think a Beyblade hit him
Cross your flag, get out-barred
Since he claim Great Britain
I’m throwin’ symbols (cymbals) at my student: I’m J.K. Simmons!
And if we get in a fight, then the comparison obvious
‘Cause you don’t really want it from the left or the right like American politics
(Yeah! Y’all didn’t warn him!)
His hard act is see-through
Don’t let this cat deceive you
I’ll scatter Quill around the city like Assassin’s Creed 2!
You can say I won’t fuck him up, that’s a common mistake
All your people can get the same: that’s a communist state
And he gon’ have that type of shit, but worse, and wit’ no conviction
You think you got this spot ‘cause you earned it with Pro? You’re trippin’
Bro, your ego got you gassed
I’m here bursting its swollen image
You are not the best here…just the worst in wrote contingent
Like…“World Dom convos - who should get flown to visit?
Who do we owe a ticket?
Who’s just here to get our international quota lifted?”
Quill’s got mediocre writtens, hopeless rhythm
“Bro, you’re kiddin’.”
No, he’s British! So it’s different!
Y’all are tokenism’s poster children
And he’s claiming he next up for the throne online
Type of dickhead to put himself in his own top five
He did that!
He’ll say I’m here to spar with the best, but I ain’t feelin’ it
Cousin, you just a star in your head: that’s the Faith Militant
Word to Isaac once more, in case, his faith may be true
Homie, God save the Queen, but He ain’t savin’ you
That’s 1
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