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Artist: DJ I-Dee f/ Traphik a/k/a Timothy DeLaGhetto
Album: DJ's Have Feelings Too... But Can't Rap
Song: Battle Rap
Typed by: OHHLA Webmaster DJ Flash
[Capcom "continue" sound scratched]
Ten! Nine! Eight!
Seven! Six! Five! Four!
Three! Two! ONE!!
Get ready fighters - it's showtime!
Hi Timothy, it's your boy I-Dee
Part time emcee, super disc jockey
This ain't grind time, but bitch, it's Oz
And I'ma make you mine... just because
Motherfuckin I-Dee, I'ma call your Isaac
My flow too tight, just like how my eyes get
Put this on my Facebook, no I didn't like it
And we are not friends, so hop up offa my dick
The first one was written, dude what are you spittin?
You don't even know you just spit about chains and glisten
Battle rap attack, I'm six foot four, you're short
I suggest you use Gary Coleman's corpse for leg support
Playboy hat but you get no play
How I'm fuckin hoes, you fuckin Jose
Goofy-ass fuck, you need to be slapped
You know you can't rap and your beats be whack
I can't believe my eyes
Here we go again, everyone look at Traphik
Constantly wishing his dick was big as a Vlasic
pickle... dude here's a nickel
Quick, what else rhymes with nickel? Shit
You got no rhythm and you always look drunk
Tall as fuck but yo' ass can't dunk
I fucked yo' bitch, you better call Maury
And he popped a blood vessel on his dick - true story!
Yeah I fucked up, dude you suck
I'm just gonna go generic and say WHAT WHAT!
like the N.O.R.E. song - you like a cocker spaniel
I'ma leave you dead like Pearl comma, Daniel
I'ma kill your mom, and throw her in a lake
Your name is I-Dee cause you always be fake
Yo' ass cain't dress, you need to cut your hair
Turntable champ, cool - no one cares!