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Artist: Mizza
Album:  Revelation Genesis
Song:   Battle Me
Typed by:

("Ladies and gentlemen
Tonight we have, the battle of the century")

[Chorus (x2)]
Round one (round one), round two (round two)
Round three (round three), battle me (battle me)

Yo, yo round one
Let me begin this, ring the bell
Complex like microchips processed like Intel
Melt mics to molten metal
Leave the whole city level, I'm a
Stomp on heads, plus
Murder the world
In this game I'm a make my move
I refuse to lose
I'm a strike that match and blow my fuse
I'm not amused
I leave mics bruised, battered, and abused
Take ya innocence, make ya feel used
M-I-double Z-A, Mizza wizard
Unpack ya backbone and shake ya gizzards
I'll make ya whole body hurt as I slither through the woodwork
It's not just my work, it's the law of my universe
Now my verse for verse, chapter for chapter
Never ever ending hit, here there or after
I'm setting mics on fire as I shred your speech
It's like part of a feat, battle me (battle me)

[Chorus (x2)]

Now my adrenaline's pumping, I'm ready to throw down
One blow off round one and you're stumbling around
We've approached round two and you hit the ground
By round three you'll be TKO'ed, totally knocked out
I could handle twelve levels, in one round alone
I pack a lyrical chromosome, and a mic of platinum and chrome
Don't dare call me Mizza call me, Mizza Messiah
I'm your, worst nightmare but your number one desire
Leave your mind wired, how many emcees remain
The lyrics I contain is enough to disconnect the brain
You thought your lyrics were heavy but they were light at the weigh in
Put my lyrics on a scale and it would say "overweighted"
Oh my gosh, can you imagine if I'm actually concentrating
I would know your next move before you do from what you're thinking
I'm a make it in 'em seas, from the Atlantic to the Pacific
I was at your level once but now I've finally mastered it
I rock this disastrous dangerousness
Put your tongue, in a twist
And heavily damage your esophagus
I'm leaving no witnesses, emcees are in the breeze
You're having trouble standing, follow me to round three

[Chorus (x2)]

Now it's, really my time
I'm ready to, blow like a missile
Melt your bone marrow and shatter your gristle
'Cause the stage is my ring, the mic is my ref
And my ref says you need 20 sets to catch breath
Now you're sweatin', knees buckling
Ready for some suckling
Let me rock you to sleep, and tuck you in
'Cause my one, my two, I'm breaking the rules
Leave you frustrated and confused like a Rubik's cube
Now I'm running through, tearing down barricades
Avoid this renegade I'm like a runaway train
I'm the one to blame, for rocking mics in different places
Leaving no, physical traces, you cats hate it
My style's so creative, melt a mic that's gold plated
And the liquid taste stings and erase my concentration
So here's a demonstration of the rhymes that I got
When my mic socket's fifty degrees, made you hot

[Chorus (x2)]

("You're a devious bastard")