Yeah. Three rounds. Still wearing that crown? Good. Koff got a crown like he won him a raffle Talk like a king, write threats for a caption Whole personality built out of adjectives Deadly, legendary, venomous, hazardous We fucking get it. You’re scary. Congratulations. Every song sound like a supervillain application Big words stacked with no destination You don’t write punches, you write declarations “I’m King, I’m lethal, I’m domination” Okay. Who you convincing? Me or yourself? You put trophies on titles then hand ’em yourself “Legendary” stamped on the front of the shelf That’s employee of the month when you own the hotel You got Crown Breaker? Perfect. Break yours. Threat To Be? Still future tense. That title been aging worse every verse Three rounds later, still waiting on the threat And poison again? Jesus Christ. Venom, toxins, antidotes Every fucking record got chemicals Koff need OSHA in the studio Hazmat suit for the tracklist, bro You got Festival of Poisons? I know. You remind us every song. KING KOFF! KING OF WHAT? KING OF SAYING “KING” TILL WE GIVE A FUCK? KING KOFF! CROWN TOO BIG WHOLE LOTTA TITLE NOT ENOUGH SHIT TALK THAT TALK BETTER BACK THAT CLAIM YOU PUT “KING” IN FRONT I PUT PRESSURE ON THE NAME. Look. I can respect skill and still call bullshit You got a good pen, you just overcook it Sixteen syllables when four would do it Then rhyme seven more just to prove you could do it That ain’t depth. That’s clutter. Every rhyme got a rhyme got another rhyme’s brother Motherfucker build a family tree every summer Then forget somewhere in there you need something that punches So listen. I don’t need elaborate Calculate, calibrate Aggravate, activate Half of that shit just masturbates The rhyme scheme. Yeah, I said it. Technical miracle, nobody felt it Gold-plated sentence with nothing embedded You brought me a dictionary wearing a necklace I brought one line and your whole room said “Damn.” Difference. You rhyme till you find what you wanted to mention I know what I mean before writing the sentence That’s why when I switch, every pocket got intention You switch just to show everybody you can switch it Cute. Do it again. King Koff, King Cough Yeah, brought that motherfucker back out Smoke so thick from you blowing yourself Had the whole damn studio coughing you out My bad. You called my shit lit then doubled back dissing That’s fan behavior with extra steps in it You studied my catalog looking for ammunition I had you doing homework before competition HA! GRAVITY. CONTROL. FLOW STATE. You knew all my shit. I barely knew your name. That gotta sting. You came prepared with my discography memorized I came in cold and started taking your brand apart Imagine doing research just to enter the fight Then getting your whole writing style summarized Poison. Crown. Threat. Repeat. There. I just ghostwrote your next EP. You’re welcome. KING KOFF! KING OF WHAT? KING OF SAYING “KING” TILL WE GIVE A FUCK? KING KOFF! CROWN TOO BIG WHOLE LOTTA TITLE NOT ENOUGH SHIT VENOM! POISON! DEATH! THREAT! WE FUCKING HEARD YOU. WHAT ELSE YOU GOT LEFT? I said “GIMME THAT CROWN” Changed my mind. Keep that cheap motherfucker, it matches your branding I got close, saw the plastic underneath all the plating Now I understand why you constantly name it Real kings don’t need reminders. That’s your problem. You announce every punch before throwing the shot Tell us you’re dangerous, tell us you’re hot Tell us you’re legendary, tell us you’re God Motherfucker… SHOW US. Stop writing Yelp reviews for your own fucking bars. Five stars. “Very deadly.” Posted by King Koff. That shit hard? Nah. That shit comedy. And somehow you made me the straight man. Round one I respected you. Round two I dissected you. Round three I’m standing here wondering What the fuck is even left of you? Take away poison. Take away King. Take away threats. Take away me. What’s left? That’s not rhetorical. Figure it out. Because underneath all that shit There probably is a dangerous rapper. But I’ve spent three fucking rounds Waiting for him to show up. SO KEEP THAT CROWN! KEEP THAT THRONE! KEEP TELLING THE WORLD WHAT THEY SHOULD ALREADY KNOW! KEEP “KING” IN THE NAME! KEEP FEEDING THE CLAIM! BUT EVERY TIME YOU SAY ryot! REMEMBER WHO MADE YOU DEFEND THAT NAME! Three rounds. You wanted my best. There. Now stop telling me you’re dangerous… and fucking prove it.
