Straight to the point:
During our drunken escapade the other day in voice chat, @Arch and I were prompted by @MrKarkino to have a rap battle.
Naturally, intoxicated Chair was all like “No point, I’d win.”
Spoke to Arch about it and it’s happening. Within 24 hours.
#Here Be The Rules:#
- 3 verses each, back and forth. Word count for each verse is limited to 75-150.
- Everyone else in the chat mutes except for the person rapping
- I post the lyrics here and people can vote to determine the winner (cutoff at some point)
- Everyone fucking has fun. Fun is mandatory. Win or lose
I’m probably going to lose, have you fucking seen Arch’s fire in #General? Golden. But I’m here to have fun, like everyone else. Ain’t gunna retire if I get obliterated by Big Poppa Arch.
#Let’s Make This A Thing?#
Was thinking of some rules/guidelines for making this a whole community thing, where we schedule rap battles for fun. Lemme know what you think.
Anywho, Chair’s gotta go type up some fire to compete with Arcj’s absolute inferno.
Adding more curse words to get maximum value from explicit language warning.
- Frick
- Heck
- Golly
#Round 1
##Arch:
They say I’m washed up,
But I got no regrets.
Hoggin’ the spotlight?
You all owe me a debt.
Step up to the plate.
Open your wallet–donate.
And don’t hate.
I built this place
With my sweat and blood.
You think you’re hot shit?
Then stand up to me, stud.
I may be old, but I still got game.
Your shit ain’t good? Got nobody else to blame.
These days everyone wants to make their hack a joke.
If you wanna compete, then it’s time to get serious folks.
##Chair:
Jake’s gunna flop, Chair won’t stop. Straight to the top. Here comes the chop. You gunna drop.
That verse was bad, and pretty sad. This verse is rad, they all glad. You mad?
Look at this guy, Jake’s gunna cry but he won’t die. I ain’t even have to try.
On your turn they slumber like lumber. Here, take a number.
Arch is a seven, Chair is eleven. My divine lightning shall pierce the heaven.
#Round 2:
##Arch:
BREAKING NEWS:
Anna’s got the scoop.
Chair’s gonna lose,
Can I get a “whoop”?
Everything you’ve done,
Gheb did it first.
“Oh but it’s just for fun”?
You plagiarized his whole verse.
When it comes to scripts, it ain’t all there.
You think you’re special? That shit ain’t even rare.
Your units are red, like we’re livin’ in Texas.
Got Beto on your ass, we gonna wreck this.
The first original thought that came out of your mind.
Is something that adults watch on TV all the time.
And I’d love to cut off your head like Roy.
But you’da had to have one first, my boy.
I never walk away from a challenge tho,
So spit your best, that was a savage blow.
##Chair:
You’re just a fake Jake, you gunna break, start to shake. Head ache, knees quake.
Name’s Eric, fuckin’ barbaric, my league main is Taric, but best boy Derek.
Get in your place, mad rhymes coming straight to your face. Can you handle the pace?
I’m gunna win, ain’t it a sin that Jake can’t spin? Fuck Lyn, get gin.
It ain’t even fair. Just so we’re square, know that Chair don’t care, weegee death stare.
#Round 3:
##Arch
“Finish EN?” Like I haven’t heard that before.
Let’s just take a second and count up the score.
Six public releases, I’ll show you the door.
These tired attacks make the audience snore.
You aren’t the hero that we deserve bro.
Can’t rap, can’t match my flow.
I go at my own pace.
And I don’t owe you people shit.
Step up to the spotlight.
Cuz it’s aboutta get lit.
You can’t handle my fire.
So just call me “sire”.
I’m beginning to tire.
Of these posers and squires.
It’s been ten years, so count it.
That takes perserverence, motherfuckin’ grit.
I’m father of the universe.
About to break this curse.
2020: it’s comin’ soon, kids.
So prepare yourself, for again I shall rise.
This divine lightning shall pierce the skies.
##Chair:
Lookin’ dire, time to bring the fire, Ain’t no liar, ain’t gunna tire. Gotta get higher.
Your rap: calm. My rap: atom bomb. Go ahead ‘n qualm to your mom.
Way too easy, your rap was cheesy. You feelin’ queazy?
My rap’s soon done, son. Lookin’ like I already won. Fun run.
Jake you tried, then you cried. You got fuckin’ fried. Take it in stride.
Now I gotta stop, your rap was a flop. One-two punch, chop chop. Drop.
#WHO WON? WHO’S NEXT? YOU DECIDE!
- Arch
- Chair
#Next Time:
Fuck if I know.
