King of the Dot
QP vs RemyD
[Round 1: RemyD]
I'ma start, with telling King Of The Dot, y'all welcome
I know it's seldom you see a rare specimen so raw yet so well done
My apologies you gotta see me against this frail bum
Folks think that since I hail from Street Status the QP I'm battling should be the URL one
Well, um, that's not the case, I got the n***a that used to yell S.O.N.S
They kicked him out 'cause when he farted and belched Conceited swore he smelled cum
That tough act don't prevail 'cause I'm a real vet that did more then held guns
Radio for help 'cause I crush stations if them shells sung about, get your bell rung
If I line it up and aim, set fire to the rain, and have you in hell deep as Adele's lung
But let them tell, young good with the wordplay
And that would be a credit if it was actually a reference to how his verse made
In reality he a actor with theatrics on rehearse stage
He serve game so it turn straight he good for the word, play
I'm good for the wordplay but my work make you take the L out for yourself now that leave me the word 'pay'
I deserve cake for every word aimed at this dirt stain who shouldn't of had a turn gave to him in the first place
But I was eager to give King Of The Dot they first taste of a pure St. Louis lyricist referred to by the term 'great'
I'm dangerous, fierce make it clear when the shank is near
Ya' head sliced, top red stripe like Jamaican beer
Take it ear to ear and make it pierce into this n***a throat
Stick knives in your windpipe, turn it to a piccolo
Critical condition so, pull in medics
N***as who lost only blow in the would win section
If I cut up ya' gut with a knife, when the blade slice
Butterflies in ya' stomach, I ain't talking stage fright
You been a big part of why this shit's just awkward
Battle rap filled with misfits and big shit-talkers
For real n***as to witness, it's been horror
So don't ask why I'm fucking you up, this is karma
[Round 1: QP]
Remedy, treatment for, injury or disease
Or designed as a verb, is to set right
See that sets right up for story time
This the turtle, in a rabbit race if I start a little slow it's fine
But say I lost by a hair, and I'll send shells, toward his side
Making his future, ohhh bleak, you know, your side?
You ain't get it that's foul, get organized
Before you rhyme we all know, it's nothing but, tumbleweeds, crickets and focused stares
Joker if you a king then this crowd would have thrown in cheers
Damn so, I'm like Rapunzel towering in that lonely lair
Giving you a chance to climb up 'cause, the opportunity's golden here
You good at making stuff up, you shoulda been an engineer
You need to work on your mechanics, I can see that without a engine near
Pussy admit it, if you timid then why interfere?
You the scariest dude this side the globe, all I see in him is fear
Your mental gears, must have shifted into a full-blown brain defect
Tell me you ain't accept this battle for the headlines, but for that fame and press
You'll make the news, with a clinched throat, strained and stressed
From me showing you the ropes, since you felt like you can hang you're next
This thing was just an experiment, some Jamie Kennedy shit
You almost missed your big shot this was, initially Brixx
Knew he wouldn't last 60 seconds the minute he split, just like chimney bricks
And I kept passing him presence, but didn't ever give him the gift
If you think I'm plumbing still, oh shit you finna be pissed
Don't be shocked, getting defeat, I'm on an energy trip
You still foggy all my enemies get
Is smoked, then get put in clouds since where they finna be missed
You do dishes and use soap with lemony scents
This faggot actually knows the number of women he kissed
And the fact we all know that don't any exist
The first row bought it, 'cause yours come with assembly kits
And the first robot it, for sho' came with assembly kits
What if the minute he spits, he gets cut off next, what's that, decapitate?
If I say "Can you kill me?", he said "I'm about to", what, procrastinate?
If we shoot it out, in yo' windows it's simple, the glass'll break
With bullets coming over the top, fuck it I wouldn't exaggerate
[Round 2: RemyD]
This whole battle scene done dropped and gone wrong
It's like being a real n***a, and a battle rapper is a oxymoron
It's honestly ridiculous watching these little bitches
Running 'round acting like drama queens and snitches
Why even be in it?
It's a conflict of interest for a n***a to risk his freedom just to rhyme how he living
With the nine that he gripping or the crimes he committing
The lines and the lyrics'll sound kinda convincing
Till you meet him in person, and ya' eyes get to glimpsing
That how the true persona is not in line with the image
When it's clock time to drop rhymes he Popeye with the spinach
But when it's shot time he not live, he shy, and he timid
Quiet, on his phone like his hotline is sizzling
When he just thumbing through contacts like a eye lens prescription
He from a GrindTime division where the high fives is given to the guys writing writtens for the lines lined in fiction
But with my kind it's business, I'm doing things corporate
Putting n***as to work like, Human Resources
Putting n***as in hurt like, UFC tournaments
Putting n***as in dirt like you the seed, I'm the florist
You see this performance I mold my creation through?
Only 'cause, LushOne dropped dough, he paid me to
Everybody know I'm gon' slay the dude
It's easy to break him down, shit his whole bio's degradable
I watched Soul Khan, body your whole squad with no prob'
And you made that elephant face-fuck look better than a nose job
And oh God, you against Swave, truly insane
You moved in a range too close, and got threw across stage
Right in the middle of ya' message, the shit was pathetic
You saying what you doing is getting hectic
And what you do, continue to, whisper, aggressive
Now I'm suposed to give you a lesson you never learnt
Fox, where was you to stop the homie from getting burnt?
Okwerdz you the big homie in Stockton, you ain't tell him first?
Sticks and stones break bones, words never hurt
But let him tell it Swave had numbers that'll get him merc'ed, and it ain't that crooked
Team Homi was in the building, yeah, Harlem and Brooklyn
But the reason the real man category a place I can't put him
'Cause any real man pushed woulda just had to take that ass-whooping
Instead of having ya' town look all sad-looking
This kind of shit shouldn't be brought to the table like, bad cooking
And even if, you ain't jab hook him, your raps full of how you, clap bullets
So you could at least shot Drect before he released the damn footage
[Round 2: QP]
You can't outclass me, period, no matter the time or subject
'Cause each line's on point like Cupid arrows, shoot 'cause, they designed to love it
If you forget them good writtens you could say bye to bluffing
'Cause once you freeze I'll know you can't rhyme for nothing
No, speed it up, once you freestyle, I'll know you can't rhyme for nothing
The rhymes the gun and delivery, if we could say it's the bullet
And, each category's empty for you when they should be the fullest
And ya' vids, maybe podiatrist a good way to put it
'Cause I, always see defeat when I looked at your footage
Look it's the pussy that says 'bullshit', through a fake cough
When you beefing with e'eryone, you cooking with steak sauce
Once this blade slash you, you'll be looking to skate off
Know I put him on ice from the beginning I mean, the look on his face off
I make sure you feel close at home getting killed in his domicile
Send a escort undercover, the little girly you got going wild
She'll be tossing your salad while the shit's going down
Just like that rim job, then we'll, bring the chrome around
Far as ya' style, what I could do is follow you with the punches like, this is my son
And only hit him with haymakers, but different-sized ones
You'll get cold-cocked from the side where the fist'll fly from's
The blindside where they don't enter view, but get the job done
Now son, what I styling specific, you mimic, how could you not refrain?
Gay imitations'll never be a match, shit is not the same
You think it's Gucci, your crew a squad of lames
You know what y'all look like when y'all walk? A flock of flames
You still in college, lame, juco, didn't know you still was trying
You take anatomy right? 'Cause you like getting bodied in any field you try in
Save it, if David could sling rocks and even killed a giant
2012 December well, in the end, you'll get killed on my end

[Round 3: RemyD]
It's more holes in yo' story than my pants belt
See I know you would never personally handle a shitty hand dealt
Against Swave you said, if you got writer's block you would hit the S.O.N.S. and grab help
Well as uninspired as I was for yo' bitch ass, I did every line by my damn self
You see, I'm top-down built for this grind, watch how quick I design
Hostile lyrical lines with compound syllable rhymes
You not found fit for my size, I jot down visual crime
Like a roundhouse kick to ya' mind, get you knocked out in minimal time
See I ain't worried 'bout, yo' Glock spitting
None of yo' shots hitting, and your clip shorter then Robot Chicken
You the weakest link 'cause yo' type frail
If you squeeze the heat that keep my shells
You would think the kickback harder than sneaking up on a Clydesdale
What you woofing about, I know what that hood shit about
Same result every time, pull the trigger, a bullet come out
I wouldn't dare doubt you pulling in clout
You should make ends meet well from how good you put ya' foot to ya' mouth
But see youngin', why I don't have to speak about gunning
'Cause I'm 20/20, with that .30-30, to keep it a hundred
I'm good sniping with my scope, it look like I'm a shot pro
I pull out a blindfold and hit bullseye with my eyes closed
So it's nothing to put five in ya' top though
When it come to beef I cook mine to a pot roast
If it's any issues I could lift up on a pistol
Put it up to ya' head, shoot the temper out ya' temple
Bullets is finna spread through every inch inside ya' mental
Ya' foot get hit next ya' leg and then I'm ripping up the middle
In the medical like medic school stethoscope to your chest and blow ya' solar plexus and left pectoral into four sections
No checkers when you play chess with a professional
My level show you need a telescope to check my episode
I leave him back forth and left right for being rook
With this L, see yo' life in the look
Ya' night getting took, I'm swiping the hook with a slant move like a bishop
You drag queens is trash, can't go against a rap king and emperor of that ring you entered
And that means, you n***as is pawns, can't be contenders at all
It's a difference in cloth, from which I'm cut
So even in the event that I slack, my trials'll still hem him up
See it's a must I demolish ya'
'Cause how I feel 'bout you is how Jews feel about swastikas
I could take ya' two arms, legs and then merge, ya' neck and then turn
Ya' torso to a pretzel how it's stretched in a curve
Tell you prior so when you think on what I said it'll burn
And I take ya' body in a casket but ya' head in a urn
I'm never concerned with irrelevant terms you bring my way
Question my gang affiliations, things we need not say
Just know I'll get Piru guys through to bring my rage
And have B's knock on both sides ya' head like Beats By Dre

[Round 3: QP]
I say this huge mass, caught you off guard, is that distracting or what?
Am I a turkey 'cause ay, I think practicing sucks
Fruit not too many compare when it come to matching me up
Keep it a thousand, I told you stack a G up
'Cause when real soldiers go to war we need something like a rack to meet up
You couldn't mack, a dame he in, based on the cash you give up
Your girly's into all men, and be bagging it up
And you get pissed that she hoes, that be cracking me up
I got a date and might plan it with her, 'cause in the sack she gets nuts
There's no comeback for this shit, I mean absolutely no rebuttal
And I'm finna break it down like a, board game so don't be puzzled
You'll die in this round clearly, remember the global bubble?
When I get it *click*, popping in the circle you shoulda known it's trouble
You play, Street Fighter but ain't known to scuffle
The last time you pulled a card, it was thrown in shuffle
You fall, right under a bitch as if you're known to cuddle
You coulda been a mack but what, you jack it up laying your coat over puddles
Yo' hoe is subtle about us and how it lays, I guess ya' woman lie
I'll be out with Miss Jeckle, she'll see you and run to hide
I been pinching your girl's loaf, she give me bread, do you, wonder why?
All I did was ask for sugar like a good neighbor she let me cum inside
As long as I don't catch you dancing in places I be we won't have a run-in man
If you kept wins in rotation it'd circulate and I'd become a fan
But what you got in store, can't corner me, thank you, come again
Ya' style is Alice with the punches, I'm still waiting for one to land
These are monkey bars, they're over your head, but do you understand?
Slow it down, I had to use Con to run a scam
You may say P nuts but it's bread so they gonna jam
N***as and bitches in Paris want us to become they friends
But, I'll transform you to caterpillar food yeah, caterpillar food, you'll be actually grub
'Cause you're only good in sections, that's got me factually bugged
You premature maggoty scrub, being a little fly get you bodied 'cause you just a gnat to me cuz
Now, you just a gnat to me 'cause naturally you only a little fly
You'll get bodied 'cause anatomy's actually a field of science
You're underdeveloped, maggot not built for flying
And you don't grub that's, where the caterpillar ties in