[Round 1: Dizaster]
What you gon' hear today
Is the mother of all anti-Semitic hate raps
This is revenge for all the dead children
That fell victim from way back
This here is for every single Arab
Shit, even the Christians are gonna feel like they're getting their payback, once I rape your mother in the ass with no protection, bare back, wearing a Mel Gibson face mask
You know what rhymes with bar mitzvah? Swastika
Let's see where you're at, Iron
Let's see if Solomon can handle this
Today I'ma put you through some body building championships
You gon' get pushed to your max, Iron
Straighten out your act here
‘Cause any hot-headed shit will get you laid out flat, Iron
Today I'ma run laps around him
'Til he get exhausted and I tire Iron like he had a flat tire
‘Cause he never had drive
He just stood on the side and watched me pass by him
He's passed his prime, so ain't no use for him coming back fightin'
The last time anyone gave a fuck about Iron's mic
Is when we had Tyson, so if Iron make a comeback for one last time he gon' get smashed like him
You've been pussy since Grizzle Mania, duckin' and divin'
Always playing about being safe and survivin'
I know you vanished away, and take cover, so it ain't no surprisin'
That once he takes cover ain't no way I'ma find him
‘Cause Annie Frank used to guide him
So I know she told you all the perfect places to hide in
Yeah, Anne Frank… What a damn skank!
Someone, pass me my gas tank!
I am Hitler, the real Heinrich Himmler
Sieg heil to your wife and sister
You've been on two lists your whole life… mine and Schindler's
I asked you to battle me, the first time you said "no"
The second time you said "no"
If you would've flaked this time
It would've been your third Reich in a row
I said, I thought you would flake
I'm honestly shocked you would take me
Had me feeling like Pesci all day
I started sweating thinking he didn't have the balls to face me
But now that we here, Iron, I know who your father is
You grew up off of Little Mermaid royalties
Since we were in third grade; you was always rich
The reason you fell off is this
It's the work ethic, you never have to work hard for shit
You never starved for shit
Anything you asked Daddy for you would always get
See, you that fat guy that walked into the gym
Got on a treadmill and jogged a bit, but you never stayed on it for long enough to even break no body sweat
So now you're stuck in the same plateau
You haven't evolved from since, but use your common sense
You've been living off a false sense of accomplishment
‘Cause if you worked hard like all us did
You would've not have quit, you probably'd thought a bit
And realized, "Nah, I worked too hard for this
I'm Iron Solomon, I'll go back and demolish 'em!"
Where's your gladiator armor kit? Your heart of Spartacus?
Your "I am Sparta" shit? C'mon, dawg, you got this shit!
I'm giving you back all your confidence
You soaking all this in, you know, I normally charge for this
I'm just saying, you was a legend to all of us
But when you're in the room your energy isn't really felt
Try to yell your bars to us
Your vocal projection just never hits hard enough
Like uhh… [*snaps fingers*] like a Math Hoffa punch
But aren't you Jewish? Aren't you Jewish?
You celebrated so many Hanukkah's that by now you supposed to have way more presence than all of us
We used to call you a pioneer. You went from that to letting your bitch re-write your third round for Daylyt
Wait a minute, you let your broad re-write all your hard work and tears? You take advice from someone else?
Wait, y'all don't think that's weird?
Honestly you can call it how you want to call it
But to me all this shit is clear
Iron Man could never get the job done
Without someone like Jarvis talking in his ear
Makes sense you're Tony Starks though
‘Cause every time you get picked apart in a battle
It's back to the lab to have your bitch walk around
Holding up the pad, helping you charge up for a year
That's why Tony Stark is never as solid as he appears
You've always been in constant fear
The Iron suit is just an outer part
The center piece is hollow up in here
Iron Man has had an artificial heart from the start of his career
Now look where your life's at, n***a!
See, you were fine 'til you tried Smack, but you can't deny facts
That if Iron himself had the type of endurance, then he might last
But he left too much of a wide gap
Where he didn't focus on his rhyme craft
So if you paid more attention in science class, you would know that iron becomes rusty when you let too much time pass
These bars I drop got knowledge in 'em, Darwinism
Charles Dickens versus non-fiction DNA mama level autism
Plus, your father scripted all of Oscar The Grouch's shit for Sesame Street, so now I know where you inherit all your garbage writtens
Yeah, you fell off, you gotta admit it
You should've moved to New Orleans and got an apartment to live in with a bunch of tsunami victims, so you can share stories all day about how you're washed up with them
This is God gifted, I'm God-gifted
Watching me spit is like a game of Twister
‘Cause I can catch bodies back to back with my skills on the spot
And that's the reason you got us all twisted
I mean, you the best freestyler? Explain how
Yo, back in the day, if you didn't recycle so much
You wouldn't even have a name now
And I'm gonna explain how, you know the, "You're behind on California time" you told The Saurus?
That was the second time you recycled those same rounds
Let's play a game of I Swear Now
Say, "I swear on my newborn child I didn't use those lines in a battle with Okwerdz that never came out."
Look at his face now!
You look like you just got caught in a stupid lie
You have a better chance of getting Sacha Cohen
To show up here dressed up as Borat in a suit and tie
‘Cause that's the only way this crowd gonna get to see another Arab get played by a Jewish guy
I'm tryin' to get y'all to see
That he's the fakest freestyler that's on the scene
But y'all don't see it, y'all just obsessed with these little pussies
Like a bunch of Carter Deems
He's a dead man walkin', he's almost in his coffin
He's just caught in between
He got one window to get outside of this box he's in
I got him inside of a laundry machine
And that's the irony in it, ‘cause even if Iron makes it out of it clean
All it means is me and Iron still got to iron out some things
We gon' get right down to the T
Even if you don't like how it seems
If he won't tell me what his true religion is, fuck it
I'ma find out when he gets [*punched*] right out of his jeans
How was that for an ironing theme?
Well, I got a different type of iron scheme
I'll take an iron fist to Iron's cheek like an Iron Sheik
And you wouldn't dare fight me inside the ring
I wish he would try me, even if I tried him he wouldn't try a thing
Even if Iron was Tiger Woods you wouldn't see Iron swing
But you'll probably rap about Math for three rounds
If you do, then be prepared to throw hands with me now
If you did, it would be like the Shazam app
‘Cause you would quickly catch a beat down
I don't give a fuck if you think I'm emotional, bitch
If you acting tough like Andy Gump
We can go outside and box over this shit
I'm about to hit him with the fucking closer, ‘cause I don't care
Kill yourself, ‘cause even if you did people probably still won't care
Take your Spring Fever CD
Walk to a black hole, get lost in the middle of nowhere
And don't forget to take Adam Sandler
And all his gay-ass movies with you when you go there! Faggot!
[Round 1: Iron Solomon]
Oh… Fuck. I made my own bed
When I was dormant, I gave y'all a reason to snooze on me
Tonight we putting that to rest
Y'all still sleeping, then you zombies
What you'll see is a true homi
That looks like lipo to you prob'ly
‘Cause he's gonna suck and I'ma get a new body
This throne is my home, I came back for the upkeep
With retard strength, all your battles are dumb weak
This quack will be duck meat for flappin' too much beak
I'm doing my numbers on the web: duck feet
If you fucked The Saurus's mother forty some weeks
Before The Saurus was born you couldn't compete
If you wouldn't come East, I'd come confront him in the West
I'd throw hands across America, every fucking punch connects
You a one and done at best, I'm the one who done it best
Big killers sleep in a guillotine, a cut above the rest
I'm the recoil that'll leave your gun hand crushed
True artist, I paint pictures with a drum and brush
I'm the one man band that Questlove can't touch
Serve food for thought like The Roots front man's lunch
Do You Want More?!!!??! Do you want more?
Your half life starts once Organik flips the coin
‘Cause that's when things fall apart
And this is just the tipping point for now, brother
I'ma milk this, my style butter
The crowd love me like a cow's utter in Calcutta
The savior, the Christians prayin' to Jesus
To Jews I am Moses, to Pagans I'm they Zeus
Walk the crowd like the holy ghost, strolling through the convent
You can smell Jehovah's odor on me: I am godsent
You will never see me lose to this old Lebaneser Scrooge
They booked a death machine for you
I suggest you think it through
You'll get digested, eaten, chewed: you a recipe for food
Step inside the lion's den, you don't get to leave the zoo
A different pedigree than you, that's why I would like to question
What did you bring to the game?
What makes this guy some type of legend?
Working 20 years on his precise refined impression
Of Eminem’s exact style from 1997?
This Afghan a Stan, such a rabid fan
Your whole style is cut from someone else's cloth: you Dapper Dan
With a master plan to spit some multi-syllable shit
To distract the fans while you spit some old silly bullshit
Get out the kiddie pool, Diz, you supposed to be an adult
You keep getting old, but we don't seem to see the results
You're just a lost boy: Peter Pan
Whose punchlines never land
When D's in bad form he needs a hook to get a hand
I mean, for real, what's this guy's problem?
Tinkerbell is what I call him
He got dusted and did some fairy shit to keep the light on him
"I want views like Fetty Wap to get the blind to see
I only got to sock it to get to where I should be."
Lash out and patch it up, nothing's cornier
What you've become gave battles a stigma, Diz
I'm disappointed at what my pupil's done
In hindsight, the Bay watches you hassle Hoffa for lime light
And this guy's hype off of that surprise fight
Like that's a prize fight
Even though we know you only go to blows if it's staged right
The irony, that these homophobe's fans support gay rights
Had your people ridin' the benches, jump right into trenches
You got some grimy intentions
When you're inside of these lenses
You see, to me, turning battles into fights is just senseless
But cross the line, this battle will bare a striking resemblance
I'm a wig splitter, I'm a ditch digger
I'm a shit kicker and I'm a bit bitter
You a quick pitcher, I'm a big swinger
Won't be the one running: I'm a pitch hitter
Fans of Diz figure I get disfigured… FUCK YOU! THIS FINGER!
If y'all keep it 100, then it'll be a 3-0: that's six figures
But since homie's a clown
I might throw my third round, ‘cause I want to sock ya
So if I beat this pussy ass 2-1, it's not a shocker
I will bow bow: Waka Flaka, better call a doctor
When I lick a shot in your noodle: penne alla vodka
When I'm done whuppin' your ass we gon' kick it at Brass Rail
There's a chick with a fat tail that be sendin' me fan mail
Them hoes aren't playin', see everybody knows our name
‘Cause I be tossing paper like I'm tryna expose Arcane
[Round 2: Dizaster]
Alright, so, you brought up the Math fight, of course
And I think it's awesome for you to reference
And I think it's really awesome for you to mention
No, honestly, bro, thanks for putting your two cents in
Are you sure it's not too expensive?
I know, for you being a Jew that's kind of a huge investment
You fucking chubby Chucky, southern country Humpty Dumpty-looking… Fucking ugly, musty, dusty, Rose Teletubby
Barney Rubble body double, Bubba Dudley cuddle buddy!
You fucking loser!
This guy is like Allen Iverson, he could've been the G.O.A.T
But he fucked up most of his chances, and that's the difference between the Kobe's and the Jordan's and Magic's
The ones that stayed in the game
And gave you more and more classics
And the ones that eventually fell off ‘cause they almost thought they were too good to show up to court for their practice
I know we appear like we're closely matched
But our roads don't overlap
When I kept on moving forward and passed
And you hit the fork in the road and went backwards
We both started off as the total package
And then you dipped into the lower bracket
Came back below the average of the normal standards
All it took was a little four-year absence
And you became a former has-been like Toni Braxton
You put in all this work to record these albums
That most fans in battle rap don't download no tracks from
The other half don't even notice you enough to even know you have one – this must be what it feels like to be La Toya Jackson
Plus, I got another question I been wantin' to ask him
Do you rap while you're doing home gymnastics?
Do you put your notepad down on your yoga mattress?
And you perform your dances like your multisyllabics
How you covert, you're graphic, so over-dramatic
Like an HBO crime scene show reenactment
Bro, you're a faggot!
Doctor's done fucked you up with a lot of medication, bro
And you got no more skill
Can't get back to his normal self
‘Cause he don't even know how normal feel
Quick, someone toss Jonah Hill another Soma pill
So he can focus still
‘Cause he's looking real shaky on film like Cloverfield
But anyways, how's that studio going though?
You recording still? Bro, you're ill
Still working toward that recording deal?
You'll make it… I know you will
‘Cause what you gon' do? Survive off your Fight Klub days?
Nobody even remembers those older rounds
The only thing we remember from Fight Club is
"Yo, hold it down!!! Hold it down!!!"
That's how annoying your fucking host would sound
Or who else remembers his battles from the Hall of Fame?
When you went off the top with a dude with his top off
Who remembers Iron Solomon versus Flamez?
Yeah, he got the W, right?
But him in that battle and the Holocaust were the same
‘Cause it wasn't no surprise to see a Jewish guy body in flames
Burn and you get burned in the game
Burn and I'll burn you with flames
Shit, even Bernie Sanders has the word "burn" in his name
Now you're in a dead zone where no one enters
"Pop pop" goes the Heckler
Go against me, your physical form dismembered
You won't be able to use your legs or arms again
Like Denzel Washington when he starred in the Bone Collector
Your father built you an in house studio
To record your records and get your stuff done
But it's fucked up ‘cause you can't have black people come over
‘Cause "Son, we don't trust them."
It's all awkward ‘cause every time he has black folks recording over
And he comes into the room and confronts them
Like, "Haah, soo, Young Gunz… where do you know my son from?"
All that matters when they view this back is who could rap
So where are all my goons from Fallujah at?
In the streets letting bazooka's and Ruger's clap
UZI's, MAC's with the new attachments
I got Halo from the future gats
Huger straps than the one's Duke Nukem has
Boom boom, shoot your ass, Hadouken flash
Boom boom, chalaka-boo your ass! I don't give a fuck!
Boom boom, North Korea nuclear blast
I'll reduce you to ash with a nuke, and nuke and ash
"What's that?" – dude, that's Nash! You stupid ass!
Yo, my resume is like a fucking cemetery
Full of piles of human stacked
‘Cause I done caught more overseas bodies than the Cuban raft
If white boy got a 9, then he can get schooled with that
Get it? ‘Cause we're from two different schools
He a junior high school student, I'm a fully developed uni-grad
I'm too advanced for you to grasp
You Columbine poppin' 9's
I'm a Virginia Tech going off on students campus
Which means me and you are not in the same shooting class
Plus my newest strap got a built in Mac computer that
Keeps all of your vehicle movement's tracked like an Uber app
Can open up your location on Google Maps
See you in the window and zoom in fast
Shoot your ass through the glass
Spill your... ​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​[*Diz fucks up here*]
I'm fucking up, I meant "Spill your medulla on the Isuzu dash"
Then the people that are moving past
Will scream: "Help! Someone just killed the fat kid from Superbad!"
And I don't give a fuck who you have
Bring your goons for backup
Then it's AngryFan movements: I'm only using caps
I'll put you and all your fruity-ass dogs together
In the same bag like a pack of Scooby Snacks
And if you come back from the dead...
I'ma put a giant round in the back of your head
Like one of your stupid-looking Jewish hats
I'll body everything in the room moving like I'm Supernat
Leave me alone before I blow a fuse and snap
Like a fuselage with a fuse attached
You'll get your fucking right socket removed and snatched
Get your eyeball turned into a wounded gash
And the next interview that you do with Vlad
You'll be on the couch telling stories with one of your pupils patched, Slick Rick The Ruler's back!
When I say "Turn up!", I mean turn up to the max…
I mean turn up to a vegetable
You seen that movie Expendables?
Well, I'll put you in a cast just as huge as that
Pussy! And you have pink eye!
[Round 2: Iron Solomon]
[*​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​Iron Solomon clapping*]​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ Good for you, Diz!
You got Pat Stay's formula down, and your formula down
I mean, you packed 60 seconds
With enough bars for a four-minute round
And you make it work, it's this crazy blur
Of rhyming schemes and hateful words
That you vomit out your mouth like you're tryna feed a baby bird
At some point you got a diss line for me or maybe Eurgh
A crowd reaction distracts him
He shouts "FAGGOT!" and a bunch of racial slurs
Just hoeing and yapping when he's supposed to be rapping
Acting like you got ovaries, and overreacting
So we can just guess what's next
From slug fest to gun threats, this chump went from throwing temper tantrums to throwing up sets
Choked out Billy, now he feel he's a roughneck
Been on 52 cards, got more attention from one deck
Looking like a junky that don't have any drugs left
You either need to catch up on rest or have a blood test
‘Cause the effects of crack and coke
Are what Dizaster don't consider
You got deeper into some yay shit than Amber Rose's fingers
So if you see this addict twitchin' like he can't control his temper
It's been half a minute since he had a chance to post on Twitter
I'm just tryin' to diagnose all of this clown's symptoms
Charron's autistic, but you've got "I Want To Be Down"-syndrome
The type of lost nerd who wants to be hip hop so bad just to fit in
He got the Microsoft Word graffiti font tattooed on his skin
And what's under that mountain of ink
You need to talk about to a shrink
But there's a lot smarter people in this crowd than you think
We hear the contradictory shit out of your mouth when you speak
How you call Pat Stay a racist, then call Dumbfoundead a chink
Told Hoffa, "Stop eating fried chicken!", hardy har
That's as funny as the n-word with a hard -ER
So go on and recite all the bars you can write
About the Holocaust one night
Call me a "kike" and a bunch of shit I'm sure Caustic would like
(Thanks for the heroin, dawg!)
It's a strong strategy, Diz, say it with audacity!
Get loud! Talk rapidly! The crowd will all laugh at me
But if that exposes the bigots, then I'll take the fall happily
You think racism is hip hop? You're buying the wrong rap CD's
Under our skin we the same color
Don't believe it, then fight me!
Do it! You'll see you're just like me
When you get beat to the white meat
Maybe Iron Sol' versus Iron Sheik is what all of you wanted
Muhammad Ali versus Ali Muhammad
Well, that worked pretty well
I'ma make me some racist remarks now: your peoples eat pita
You were raised to be making these soft rounds
We ate matzah when we fled from Egypt, we went missin'
Where the heat of the desert
Where the stones were our best kitchen
And our food's hard texture is stemmed from that existence
What I'm saying is, going back generations we bred different
Our religious text gave us ambition your clan's missin'
2000 years before Muslims our Bible was handwritten
Y'all changed Abraham to Ibrahim and ran with that transcription
The Torah is the O.G., the Quran is just fan fiction
Boy, you done picked a bad Jew to attack
You know how many MC's I ran through for a rack?
Your integrity's out of wack
Look around the room, faces from everywhere on the map
Our bond is rap, you should honor that
But every card he act like he's as serious as a heart attack
But gotta lean on shock value to bring a body back
This preacher testified just to keep you mesmerized
You can't see through his disguise
You need to reconnect your eyes
I mean Jesus effing Christ, every freaking single rhyme
Like a Lebaneser mime in Lethal Weapon 5
And in your egotistic mind, you believe in every line
So we may never get to see this style you beat to death just die
Exposing D's deception gets him peeved in every line
I'm making this pussy tight: this a kegel exercise
See, people recognize this Dizaster character is not you
You had a Halloween party where rappers battled in costume
You made them stay in fake persona
Instead of going off real life, so you won't have to be the only one who knows what that feels like
See, he'll strike when he steps out of his lane and gets bold
But you ain't really from the gutter, you're just playin' a role
So please, spare us, spare us
You ain't cookin' coke, you ain't never seen the hood befo'
You sweeter than a Tootsie Roll
Wrapped up in some cookie dough
Shoved inside a pussy hole of a virgin playing footsie toe
Your Gjonaj battle is the only time you pushed an O
And when you fucked up that jelly fish line
What Dizaster revealed up here
Is what you mean to yell in your rhymes isn't actually real, it's clear
See, I'm a man of war when I'm on a sting
Your death's been sealed
My lines lean up to a body, I tend to kill
I flew here to get the mileage, you flew here to get demolished
What they paid you pays your rent
'Bout to put my kid through college
If you take away the hype, all the hate and spite. Just to lose to Mook they gave me twice what you got paid tonight
Yo, my status may have fell, but when our check's coming through
You'll see that even when I take an L, I get double you
Yeah, I went over with Lyt, but tonight I'll respect time
I said I'd kill you with three minutes, and we right at the deadline

[Round 3: Dizaster]
Yo! Now this guy… really has pink eye [*Iron Solomon tries to get into Dizaster's face exposing his pink eye*]
Back off! ‘Cause I don't want to be in front you
You fricking disgrace!
You've already had it happen to you once
Don't make me rub some more shit in your face!
Here comes the guy whose career died a long time ago
In the year 3 King Of The Dot BC, 500 Grind Times ago
Comes a guy from the biased coast
Who's about to get all of his stripes revoked like Spider Loc's
See, you said in one of the lines you wrote
That the doctors prescribed you the same drugs as Michael
Okay, that means you use all kinds of dope
Just so your mind can cope
So know, if you had the chance to be the straw that broke the camel's back, you would use it to sniff a line of coke
Ever since Mook your career been on a declining slope
It's like Gary Coleman's last episode alive
That's a double meaning line: If you take the name of his show title and the way he died and combine them both
Then you'd finally know why this is his final stroke
Your fucking music career is one big giant Heimlich choke
You should've known with an album like Monster you would wind up broke, it's all in your bio
Didn't see a single sell from it or multiply in growth
Since your career was under the spotlight of the microscope
What, do I gotta break it down in a science course or somethin'?
Iron divides into four different types of isotopes
Which could explain why you spent half of your life
On the shelf tryna blow, but Iron won't
See, a lot of elements become radioactive after their half life
But Iron don't, which is why he's a normal Iran, I suppose
‘Cause all the deals they had for him on the table folded
And they never got Iron closed
Yeah, that's why you're hanging from a thread on life support
You fucking got beat down in front of Mook
Until you couldn't fight no more
Which makes you the worst type of whore
The one that gets fucked once and quits ‘cause her vagina's sore
You should fucking kill yourself
Plus you violated as far as the guy code goes
I provided you guided roads wherever your drive go
I gave you the Geico quotes
The greatest of all time: the Michael Jordan of this entire sport
A satanic shrine logo: I am the G.O.A.T
The Messiah, the eye of Horus
The Ayatollah to your Diaspora, I am your righteous Lord
I am your most high like a white boys Fico score
I am like Michael Kors ‘cause I can catch a big bag
And still have a lot of time in store
Get it? A big bag and still have a lot of time in store? Yeeeeah!
I'll hit you with a thousand lines like a Miley Cyrus tour
This is what Michael Moore would look like in his final form
I know you gon' reference the five days in Egypt
But trust me, this ain't that kind of war
This is more like fighting Thor inside of a lightning storm
I go psycho: Michael Myers with a knife inside of a psych ward cycle flow Niacin, goodnight you, bro
I'll put you to sleep in your own language: I'll Laila Tov you
Yeah, this diet Rone is gonna die alone
All it takes is one solid bar
He's a washed up body, punchlines are like Dial soap
Dynamo, you tryin' to fight a robot cyborg from Biocorps
They'll find you inside your home beside your phone
With your vital signs synchronized with the dial tone, BLEEEEP
Who gives a fuck if NY is a no-flying zone?
I got Palestine inside my bones
I'll hit you with a rock in your face from a couple kilometers away
That's what I call reaching a milestone
You will die from my pen stroke like Death Note
If it's written form we battle
Freestyle, I'll son you off the top like solar panels
And I got more examples
No matter how many menorah lamps you have
You'll never hold a candle
To the levels of pressure I was born to handle
You know why? ‘Cause you don't have no souls or backbones
Bro, you don't even know your past, bro
Real Jews were Hebrews, black men who used to grow their afros
You guys are just a bunch of random, phony, Polish assholes
Who forged your passports, and don't have a land of your own
So you come over and they jack yours
But what is it all for? Is it drilling off shore?
Is it the land, or do you want more?
See, Arabs were peaceful, bro, you can come into my house
I'd invite you in, take your keys to my car, the garage door
I just want you to feel comfortable at home
Since you're used to occupying households that are not yours
I wasn't even supposed to be here today
Organik was tryin' to get him and Hollow Da Don poppin' off
They had an investor from his side ready to put up all the guap
Made all these excuses at the end why it ended up fallin' off
But the real reason we did not see it
Is 'cause Solomon's people couldn't afford what Hollow cost
I ain't anti-Semitic, knock it off!
Before I go durka durka, allahu Akbar on him
And start letting rockets off
Droppin' bombs and launchin' tomahawks
I got a lot of fire bottled up like a walkin' Molotov
I'm a blacksmith: I'll put an Iron bar on the chopping block
I don't give a fuck if it's shalom shabbat or shabbat shalom
I'll punch you in the face
And leave your glasses broken on the floor: mazel tov!
You battled Mook on Smack and we watched you fall
You let a mark-ass brother outshine you
Take your spot: you Pau Gasol, and that's when you got on some bullshit and you dropped the ball
Now everyone knows you as that one cat
With a giant pussy in his lap like Marley Marl
It's the army of God
Think the ending of every Inspector Gadget, ‘cause all you saw
Was me putting a metal arm to this cat's head like Dr. Claw!
I know a little bit of Krav Maga
Fuckin' put your— twist your father into an arm bar
And knock his fucking yamaka off, fuck it
If me and Solomon brawl I'm knockin' out anybody involved
Boop Boppity Baow, stand over your head like Alex star
I'm off the hook with these hands, people call me Kabal
I move at light speeds like Vegeta
Break my right knee off in your jaw
Fuck a gun bar! I'm creative, I don't need one at all
I'll swing a fucking Pirates Of The Caribbean claw
Cut you in half, looking like a seesaw
Send the blade flying clean through the wall
Watch it come out of the side of the street
And kill five people that weren't even involved
I'm like an evil Peter Parker that delivers people karma
With a side order of beef kebab for starters
Fucking with me is retarded
Like asking Sweeney Todd to be your barber
I'm an evil Tamil-tiger guerrilla fighter from Sri Lanka
Followed you to your job and I'm camped outside of your job
And I can't wait for you to leave the office like Stephen Harper
Yeah, you think you can relate to Canadians more than me?
Hahaha! Bro, you are more pussy than a Weeknd concert
Even the concept of you beating me here in Toronto
Couldn't be more farther
Than the thought of Stevie Wonder being able to see his daughter
I'll fucking let the Glock sleep him
Put him in an arm bar 'til he stops breathin'
Like Eric Gardner when the cops beat him
Pay attention, that's a double bar meaning
I mean, either way you gon' die from arm squeezing
And yeah, they hated us
They hated us ever since the World Trade got hit
And they blamed us with all this bullshit
But what the media don't say is this
How many of your people didn't show up to work that day ‘cause they claimed they were sick?
Or the Zionist banker who took out that insurance claim
And then split? Explain to me this
How a national tragic event could make your people rich
Or how a bunch of cavemen in Afghanistan
Could penetrate the world's most sophisticated defense
And have these monolithic beams that are encased in cement
All cut at the precise angle you need a buildings foundation to slip
It's ‘cause you motherfuckers orchestrated the shit
And used the media as a tool to blame us swit, wit
To blame us swit wit? Or blame us with?
But it don't matter because you blamed the desert
For taking those plane flights
But it's clear as daylight that you staged that shit
And you only have one ball… I mean, it's all good, bro
Don't be mad ‘cause the doctor slashed your wontons
And you can't get a hard-on
You can still be the champ of any track you hop on
Even with half of your balls gone
You could ask Lance Armstrong
You could still be successful, it doesn't change at all
Look, look, man, you can ask Tom Brady, dawg
You can still make it in the game with a deflated ball
I know, I know… I bet that little ball of his at night gets lonely
Sitting in bed, he felt a trickle down his leg slowly
Thought he pissed on himself, but turned out to be his right nut pouring out liquor for his dead homie
He has one fucking ball, he can't fuck with me
This is the path toward the end, so listen and pay attention
‘Cause all your people ever did was scrutinize us
My people are true survivors
And you used the media as a way to oppress us
And generation after generation you try to euthanize us
Then we turn into revolution fighters
But what would you do if you was in a street seeing them kill women and execute their minors?
Shooting a child in his back? How could you justify seeing a two-year-old with a tank on his back like a scuba diver?
T'foo ealaykun, t'foo! Who grew al-Qaeda?
You grew al-Qaeda! You guys are fueling ISIS!
This ain't no war on terrorism, this is a Zionist Jewish crisis
A bunch of fucking greedy bankers
Who have no value for what human life is
If you ever, if you ever see an Arab group of snipers
Just know that's from weapons that you provide us
So we can kill each other
And you can use it as an excuse to crucify us
But not now, not now… I'ma flip out
Bro, who defied us? Who divide us?
What am I doing? I'm losing my mind, bitch
Give me the shit, I'm gonna fushalise this
I don't give a fuck what I'm gonna do, ‘cause this dude's the nicest
[*Put on a Hitler mustache and starting rapping "German"*]
Barbra Streisand..... lighter inside of a furnace....... Seth Rogan.... Adam Sandler... Shia Labeouf......
Lek, Min Antoum, shaifeen halkoum
Li'ann al'amrikiuwn yudafieun ankoum
I'm a Spit in Lebanese, Yeah!
Shaifeen halkoum
Li'ann al'amrikiuwn yudafieun ankoum
Bes, bes alfilastiniiyn bit dalkoun taeadal ealayhum
Li'ann ma fi meen alrrddoum
Bes hizb allh bit dalkoum beyda eanhoum
Li'ann kl mat qaribou
Hizb allh bi baleshou i nikou 'umkoum
Airi Fik kiss 'Umak 'akh sharmoota bi airi
? li khalaq rabbak, kiss 'umak bi airi

[Round 3: Iron Solomon]
So y'all wanna know the REAL reason that we had problems in Grind Time? It was-it was… ah… shit... me too
Might've been all in this guy's mind
I mean, when I picture what was at stake and follow the timeline
D was only beefing because I was in my prime
‘Cause we had never met before
They had rappers on every floor
And you paid Kap Kallous to book my room next to yours
Since you don't know the difference
Between real life and a message board
You trolled the hallway all day, postin' up on my bedroom door
The whole weekend you followed me, no drama or static
Then hopped on camera in your battle and you called me a faggot
And I'll never forget this, with Pumpkinhead as my witness
You ran right out of the ring to me and begged for forgiveness
It was awkward and kind of just weird
Offered to buy me a beer
Talking right in my ear, apologizing for years
About a line that Bachir took time to prepare that I didn't hear
‘Cause I wasn't watching your battle, because I didn't care!
See, between love and hate there's a thin line
But for Diz, no disconnect
So everybody that Diz respects becomes someone he disrespects
From the indirects to the blatant hate
In your Twitter rants you've discussed me
But you're on my dick the second we're face to face
Tryin' to give me dap – you disgust me
With your rants and your ten page speeches
Talking junk about Smack more than an N.A. meeting
If you and URL's relationships something you can't repair
You know what a real gangster would do?! Just not battle there
What's wrong with King of the Dot? Know what I'm saying?
You hate the East Coast ‘cause we never gave you support
We gave you hip hop culture, Diz, we gave you this sport
The way that you walk
Your dress code, the slang that you talk
You from the "Fresh Coast"?
Son, the word "fresh" came from New York
You pull your iPhone out at all of your battles
An awesome example
Of how all of the raps that you spit you got from the Apple
Y'all know that his note section is just a pad full of writtens
So what, it's cool to do that now ‘cause Canibus did it?
You such a hip hop purist
How's that a crutch you still rely on?
We've seen Diz sell out in battles more than Malathion
You call street rappers phony, but your gun bars be dialed out
It's like you can't get a line out without a 9 now
The principles even talking, we don't ever see him walking
It's all theory, you don't really stand for shit: you Stephen Hawking
It's so feeble, Flint Michigan tap water: your flow's lethal
But only because the poison you fed 'em misled your own people
You're not a terrorist, you're a tourist, a gimmick
Pointing your fingers at our flaws like a critic
To hide your fraudulent image
The real perpetrator's you, but you don't want to admit it
You're like the coward that killed Cyrus
And said "The Warriors did it!" – Oh. You. Fucking. Hypocrite!
You whore for attention, you exhibitionist
You preach, but you don't practice
Give a speech and contradict the shit
You overdose with coke in the nose, emotional roller coaster
You opportunist, you Brutus, Judas, you culture vulture!
I hate you, but it's my fault, because I stepped out of this ring
And turned my queen to my ex wifey
And I prayed her new suitor would be a king who was just like me
I walked away from this woman who was the love of my life
And I can't stand that her new man just ain't fucking her right
See, when you was still tryna steer through the bottom tier
And the future of battle rap was not as clear, I was here
Been a pioneer the entirety of my career
I made this backpack shit take off: I'm the Rocketeer
I spelled out this path to give y'all some direction
Put myself on the map so you could follow the legend
What I deserve I achieve with just a verse and a beat
I didn't work for a fee, and what I earned wasn't free
Went on a murdering spree, hit every curb in the street
When it was 30 degrees I was still burning MC's
In terms of this league, my words and my schemes
Are the birds and the bees, the sperm and the seeds
What emerged was this league
So you're the MC you are because you are birthed from my breed
I didn't quit and come back, I took maternity leave
I fathered your whole existence, Diz, you learned this from me
You played the role of an heir you're unworthy to be
You're not Solomon reborn, you've been keeping my seat warm
A disfigured version of me, that's how D formed
And the Commodore and Eli might seem like a lovely option
'Til you realize, in real life
What it feels like without Nucky Thompson
Let Diz, Pat and Mac scrap for seconds and thirds
Who gives a fuck about runners up now that the best has returned