Challenge!
A rap challenge to David Dycus- Beat me in rap on an inside joke.
There ain't nothin' worse than sleepin' with a real baby-
Unless you eat it! (whispered: like Chris White, maybe?)
So don't bed the baby- just don't try it.
And Chris, get off that Ghengis Khan Diet!
There ain't nothin' worse than sleepin' with a real baby-
Unless you eat it! (whispered: like Chris White, maybe?)
So don't bed the baby- just don't try it.
And Chris, get off that Ghengis Khan Diet!
Comments 26
Turns out they're just Chris White's only weakness. *WHAAT?*
That sick mo'fo is one weird-azz brotha,
'cause no one has the right to take the life of another!
Ya better back of, my verses sting like tacks!
Gonna hit you like a big ol' face fulla Snor-lax!
You raps is whack, my rhymes are gnarly!
So go and give a blumpkin to Five O'clock Charlie.
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Yeah, that's my excuse for killing them.
And sorry Charlie, but five o'clock's passed.
I'ma kick yo' cryptozoological ass.
I'll dent your face so bad, that it'll need bufferin'
Get ready to know eternal pain and sufferin'!
Diamonds N' Gatz ain't even rich like this
I drink molten gold to decorate my piss!
Incel's wack and the Knightz' gone gray.
I'm the new Pussy Control for the kids today.
You think you can out rap me?
There ain't no way.
You ain't that lucky, and this ain't funday.
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Somebody thinks that he's "Everything '3'."
And you brought the chil'n's into it again,
This comin' from the guy who wants to raise or-phins.
Pussy Control? Man, you shoulda known.
Before you teach the kids, best come to terms with your own! [Implying that YOU, sir, have a vagina.]
"Knitez gone gray," man, least we had a hit!
Go lick Papa Smurf's blue ass, (all of it!)
Now I may be a genuinely bad person,
But at least I'm not a wannabe Tyler Durden.
You and your friggin' Fight Club.
Fight CLUUUUUB!
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And BDFU. So I like to carve soap!
And I'm Everything! Even Everything strikes back!
I've fufilled all my tops fives. (Except be black.)
And the Knitez ain't nothin'. I ignored their "hit"
When I downloaded music- yeah, all of it.
Face it kid, all you can do is run.
I'd smack you up with my racket, but the thing's a gun.
There's nothing you can do, and I think you've lost.
Why don't you go quiver like it's the holocaust!
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From a guy who doesn't find the Ice Climbers lame.
Try to play hard, like a know it all,
But can't tell and elefat from a waterfall!
That Onyx CD make you feel like you street?
You'd get busted up nasty runnin' from the heat.
You know you're a dingus, you above all others.
And gold for your piss? I would have figured butter,
Or sweet, sweet coffee. Gotta give that kid props.
(Stitched with love in every last drop!)
To continue to provoke me just wouldn't be wise;
I'll take care of you like I took care of Knives.
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