[Round 1: RemyD]
I'ma start, with telling King Of The Dot, y'all welcome
I know it's seldom you see a rare specimen so raw yet so well done
My apologies you gotta see me against this frail bum
Folks think that since I hail from Street Status the QP I'm battling should be the URL one
Well, um, that's not the case, I got the nigga that used to yell S.O.N.S
They kicked him out 'cause when he farted and belched Conceited swore he smelled cum
That tough act don't prevail 'cause I'm a real vet that did more then held guns
Radio for help 'cause I crush stations if them shells sung about, get your bell rung
If I line it up and aim, set fire to the rain, and have you in hell deep as Adele's lung
But let them tell, young good with the wordplay
And that would be a credit if it was actually a reference to how his verse made
In reality he a actor with theatrics on rehearse stage
He serve game so it turn straight he good for the word, play
I'm good for the wordplay but my work make you take the L out for yourself now that leave me the word 'pay'
I deserve cake for every word aimed at this dirt stain who shouldn't of had a turn gave to him in the first place
But I was eager to give King Of The Dot they first taste of a pure St. Louis lyricist referred to by the term 'great'
I'm dangerous, fierce make it clear when the shank is near
Ya' head sliced, top red stripe like Jamaican beer
Take it ear to ear and make it pierce into this nigga throat
Stick knives in your windpipe, turn it to a piccolo
Critical condition so, pull in medics
Niggas who lost only blow in the would win section
If I cut up ya' gut with a knife, when the blade slice
Butterflies in ya' stomach, I ain't talking stage fright
You been a big part of why this shit's just awkward
Battle rap filled with misfits and big shit-talkers
For real niggas to witness, it's been horror
So don't ask why I'm fucking you up, this is karma
I'ma start, with telling King Of The Dot, y'all welcome
I know it's seldom you see a rare specimen so raw yet so well done
My apologies you gotta see me against this frail bum
Folks think that since I hail from Street Status the QP I'm battling should be the URL one
Well, um, that's not the case, I got the nigga that used to yell S.O.N.S
They kicked him out 'cause when he farted and belched Conceited swore he smelled cum
That tough act don't prevail 'cause I'm a real vet that did more then held guns
Radio for help 'cause I crush stations if them shells sung about, get your bell rung
If I line it up and aim, set fire to the rain, and have you in hell deep as Adele's lung
But let them tell, young good with the wordplay
And that would be a credit if it was actually a reference to how his verse made
In reality he a actor with theatrics on rehearse stage
He serve game so it turn straight he good for the word, play
I'm good for the wordplay but my work make you take the L out for yourself now that leave me the word 'pay'
I deserve cake for every word aimed at this dirt stain who shouldn't of had a turn gave to him in the first place
But I was eager to give King Of The Dot they first taste of a pure St. Louis lyricist referred to by the term 'great'
I'm dangerous, fierce make it clear when the shank is near
Ya' head sliced, top red stripe like Jamaican beer
Take it ear to ear and make it pierce into this nigga throat
Stick knives in your windpipe, turn it to a piccolo
Critical condition so, pull in medics
Niggas who lost only blow in the would win section
If I cut up ya' gut with a knife, when the blade slice
Butterflies in ya' stomach, I ain't talking stage fright
You been a big part of why this shit's just awkward
Battle rap filled with misfits and big shit-talkers
For real niggas to witness, it's been horror
So don't ask why I'm fucking you up, this is karma
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