Artist: Del the Funky Homosapien f/ Pep Love, Q-Tip
Album:  Wrongplace 12"
Song:   Undisputed Champs
Typed by: jcontemprato@yahoo.com

[Del]
Aite hold up hold up
Now introducing...up front, my man Pep Love

[Pep Love]
My introduction:
It's such an unbelievable pleasure
For you to treasure;
And much needed too
Make it phat though
on another plateau-
You've been needin to get in the groove
I do it natural
As we get Jazzy with classy shit
To make them hard ass rappers wanna blast me (buck buck)
Cause I exemplify a pimpified mack
In actin like the shit nigga
Mashin rappers with a passion
When I get Tip and Tribe flashin lyrics
I smash your spirits
Like a big disappointment
But this here shit will surprise ya
Devise a plan:
A pipsqueak, shit's weak
cause the size of the man
So if you wanna measure up
then press your luck
Cause when I'm in the cut
Man there ain't no catchin up
I bet ya never heard a nigga with a vigorous flow
Figure this bro
gettin ate like a clitoris?
No.
I never could'a seen it-
I rip a rapper's balls off
To make him scream when its convenient.
Hear ye hear ye
Clearly we're the
Undisputed ones that you get mad at when you hear me
Pompous comp. just barely even registered on the meter
Cause we the niggas that they checkin for
Me and you or, you and him
Ruinin' them
Doin men in
When I'm cuein him in
On the one

[Del]
Ya two... three, four

[Q-Tip]
Now niggas know I got lyrics out the anal
And any move that you make could be fatal
The poet that shows it:
and some of y'all niggas know it when ya
Grab the mic and you can't recite
Yo that gets me irate when ya can't debate
But wait- Now ya niggas think that I'm ya runnin' mate?
Naw phukk that, cuz when I grab the baton I'm gone (zoom)
All around the track like a runnin maniac (damn)
You babblin your babblin son; what the phukk?
Anybody can grab the gun and go buck (psshewww)
But can you grab the mic and kick ill shit? (like)
Stun 'em with the verbs, instead of using clips
Check it: I flip styles by the dozen;
I could even do things that you thought I was but I wasn't
You MC's are slipping into rigor mortis
Give it up please
And just support this;
I got styles that are legendary
Even in the clink
Poetic reality
What the phukk you think?
Cause I'm down with the D-E-L
So what the hell?

[Del]
(Haha!)
I never come from the temple of simple rappers
Your rap's poor
I'm on track
I lap yours
Collapse yours
Elapse forever
You're never gonna get better bitin' my friend
But I lend a hand helping
MC's yelping like puppies (Arf! Arf!)
Their rhymes are supple
My rhymes are roughed up
Like a duffle bag
mags on my wheels squeal
Peel out towards your head
While others bust lead
That's dead
I beat your head in the resin when the pipe hits the buds in my
chamber
My rhymes are never tamer
Perpetrators I'ma hurt ya later/after
On the path of danger
I got fangs not bangs
like a bitch which I use to puncture
With punctuation-
And mutation
Racin' like my thoughts
Bust shots to scatter
And my latter lets me elevate
Over MC's that are hella fake
My reaction to your rappin' is laughin
Has-beens are askin to get their ass kicked
Cause they're plastic
I'm bringing lyrical lacerations
That you're tastin
Painful I maim foes
Metaphorically
Historically used the hip hop
To make your neck pop, nod in awe
When I kick the modern style
(Modern style, haha!)

[Cut]
The undisputed ones that you get mad at
The undisputed ones that you get mad at
The undisputed ones that you get mad at
When you . . . grab the mic and you can't recite