AKA RAP BATTLE - ROUND 1

Scrollsmith [Intro - Verse 1] I’m The Scrollsmith... and your verse starts in my shadow. I’m the script they tried to flip, but every twist just fed my rise, I’m the myth they can’t dismiss, the hidden glyph behind the lines, I’m the shift in paradigms, the spine that binds the grand design, I’m the gift they can’t define, the mind refined through sands of time. I’m the pulse beneath the crackle when the vinyl starts to breathe, I’m the hush before the battle when the rivals start to freeze, I’m the brush that paints the shadow where the light is hard to see, I’m the rush that breaks the shackles off the life they carved for me. I’m the calm inside the storm, the form that norms can’t quantify, I’m the psalm that gods perform when mortal laws get nullified, I’m the dawn the night informs, the torch that scorched the borderline, I’m the bond of art and war, the force that forged the lore in rhyme. I’m the truth they tried to mute, but every root still grew in stealth, I’m the proof they can’t refute, the youth that bloomed from ruined wealth, I’m the booth’s unmovable, immutable, elusive self, I’m the you they wish you were, but I became somebody else. Maui Mike [Verse 2] MauiMike and I'm honorable Wassup there Majura I'm seeing thru u like Sharingan Madara Tsukiyomi your world in your dreams of Impossible I'm burning thru this scrollsmith With a chakra fireball I'm this that You're not and you're whack This is how your bars sound And it seems kinda flat Now I don't mean to be mean But I think u should step back, From overcompensating Metaphors For reasons that you lack And maybe switch your rhythm And listen to this blast You definitely not in a position To teach my class. The words there. The bars mid it's not catchy Your tones there The knocks miss It's not heavy Your skins dry Your games hit You're not sweaty I’d say why I must admit You're not ready. And wishing I was you Is like wishing I was a Fedie But Maui says you're welcome You're just Gonna have to accept me Onewingseraphim [Verse 3] The fallen angel, Onewingseraphim let's spread the gospel my brother... Stepping first into the arena, letting the vinyl breathe Setting a standard so high it makes the rivals freeze I know who’s waiting in the wings, a brother in the craft A true master of the pen, splitting the timeline in half We built the foundations together, block by block in the dark Now we’re lighting up the kitchen, leaving a permanent mark Don't hold back a single syllable when it’s your time to strike I want the absolute apex when you step to the mike Two creative forces colliding, heavy and deep Ready to shake the whole community right out of its sleep No malice in the message, just two kings in the zone Pushing the architecture, defending the throne It’s an honor just to share the bracket and test the design An unmovable force meeting a legend of rhyme The canvas is blank, brother, let the chapters unfold Let's give the Kitchen a classic that’ll never get old Squintz [Verse 4] It's Squintz. Scrollsmith, you kept writing like the ink was divine, But sixteen different “I’m” lines still couldn’t draw a spine. You forged a whole scroll just to certify yourself, Put your ego in calligraphy and left the bars on the shelf. Every line came dressed for a ritual, polished and rehearsed, I’ll bring you to the promised land, delivered in a hearse. You wrapped smoke in ceremony and called it profound, I put a mass spectrometer on it, no substance was found. All that parchment, all that polish, all that ancient little flair, Couldn't win a battle rap—you should've left the canvas bare. You’re not a prophet with a pen, but you might be Epstein’s friend, I opened up your scroll, black redactions end to end. I don’t need a sacred text, I don’t bow to the quill, One look at the script, my rebuke makes your blood spill. You spent a whole verse building fiction from the start, The undertaker’s here to rip the pride from your heart. So keep your scrolls and symbols, keep your self-made shrine, I’m the red pen in the margin crossing out your lines. You call yourself Scrollsmith, but I found something better, I’m feeding your whole legacy straight into the shredder. I don’t chase legends, I edit them clean, Squintz just dropped the blade of a heavy guillotine. Swan Flue [Verse 5] MauiMike you opened with "honorable" — most forgettable word, You borrowed Naruto's eyes and Maui's hook just to be heard, Your whole identity's a crossover from a streaming service shelf, Disney Plus called — they want their character back for himself. You need a FISH HOOK to have power — nah that ain't a flex, A demigod who's powerless without a prop — what's next? You threw chakra fire — but forgot to write the bars, Now Squintz — dropping dirty shots in rap is the tell, When your real bars run empty you throw grenades and yell, Mass spectrometer? Red pens? Guillotines? A hearse? You brought a whole laboratory — still couldn't build a verse. You're not a rapper — you're a REVIEWER with a grudge and a notepad, The closest thing to bars you dropped was redacting what you had, The Scrollsmith wrote a scroll — you filed a Yelp review in rhyme, I'm the author AND the editor — I do both at the same time. Two of you stepped up — one borrowed somebody else's eyes, One threw a cheap shot 'cause his real game couldn't rise, SwanFlu don't need anime or lab coats to ignite, Just need a mic — a mind — ...and sixty seconds of tonight