I spit a thousand maggots at your name, each one a message in disguise, You bark through dentures, I bite through flesh, that’s how a real beast survives. Your demeanor’s softer than a newborn’s skull left to rot in summer heat, I drag your corpse through broken glass just to bless the street with meat. You rock a style like eating glass laced cannolis, chokin’ mid-delivery, My lines swing like drunk inmates with brass knuckles in the penitentiary. Burnt gums from snortin’ powdered pride, now you’re droolin’ through dimensions, Claim God’s with you, but your doubt’s proof he skipped your whole damn session. I pull up lookin’ like the plague in leather, fully dressed to bring forth death, You show up lookin’ like a hospice nurse with cigarette smelling breath. Slappin’ dandruff off your scalp, got snowflakes fallin’ on my boots, Your whole style smell like mildew mixed with freezer-burnt old fruits. Every rhyme I lay’s a warcrime, scaldin’ bitches in a lava flood, Your verses like dead piglets floatin’ facedown in the mud. My tongue’s a buzzsaw fed with teeth, got molars stuck between the blades, While yours a bubble wand for toddlers, blowin’ nothin’ but charades. I been baptized in ash and knucklebone, I cough up splinters when I laugh, You been spoon-fed by the state, rockin’ Pampers under pleated slacks. My spit could burn holes through chapel walls and haunt the priests inside, You write your raps in Comic Sans with Kleenex balled up by your side. I piss in sinkholes made of skulls, where demons beg me not to scream, You sip on almond milk and whimper when your Wi-Fi cuts the stream. I built my name with bricks of pain, cemented with my brother’s death, You built yours from YouTube loops and compliments from stans on meth. My battles ain’t for points, I fight to stain the very soul of sound, You battle like a summer camp, singin’ while you’re prancin’ round. They said don’t shoot the messenger, but I carved a message in my shells, Each verse a deathbed warning sung by blood-soaked carousel bells. I lace my boots with severed tongues and stomp across your family crest, Your lyrics so soft they donate blood and faint before the needle’s pressed. You got that “help me” energy, like you trapped beneath a petting zoo, While I’m outside crucifyin’ beats and hangin’ verses up in twos. The stench of lies leaks out your pores, you reek like hospice buffet trays, My legacy’ll eat your bloodline raw and piss truth on your praise. My style’s a swarm of locusts teachin’ philosophy to the blind, Yours is circus music for the deaf, confused and fallin’ outta line. I stitched this rhyme scheme from a snuff film score, now listen as it bleeds, You rap like you afraid to sweat, like hunger never touched your knees. My rhymes wear brass rings wrapped in bone, each punchline a riot in the lung, Yours wear thrift store metaphors from rappers half your age and young. I chew through microphones and spit the wires back into the crowd, You mumble like a hostage tryin’ to read a random note out loud. Your bitch-ass energy’s like soup without a boil, cold and dumb, I beat through speakers like a father raisin’ fists instead of sons. You mimic kings but miss the crown, I bite through noses and spit it out, You mimic pain but never bled, just study wounds and try to shout. My presence alone can bend the cross and turn communion wine to hash, Your faith is stitched from online clips and customer support flash. I’m what happens when the cursed survives and starts to sing in tongues, You what happens when a snitch starts rappin’ just to play among. I stack my rhymes like coffins dropped in warzones lit with screams, You stack yours like tweets from kids scared of costumes on Halloween. Ain’t no gimmicks here, just knuckles, scars, and rabid feral screams, Your style’s a broken record trapped between two Christmas carol memes. I turn my past into steel, then mold that shit into a sword, You turn your fear into your reality till you’re hangin’ with an electric cord. This ain’t a rap, this is an exorcism scorched into the sky, You dropped a verse that sound like homework rushed the night before you die. I’m not your peer, I’m what appears when every sin gets off its leash, You not a threat, just noise that dies before the silence starts to preach.
