[Round 1: Krome]
Aight, so what’s good, Vancouver!?
Tonight, I don’t need a reaction
I mean, y’all asked for this matchup, with this nerd you been gassin’
And this shit is just odd
Y’all made him a God
Illipsis, the only rapper so gay that his name is a pause!
And y’all brought me far West for some bars
So like saloon doors, I’mma open up swinging
Get ready to die
‘Cause your past opponents treated this like moot court
And showed up just pretending to try
See, this whole Vancouver division is built to put you in a better position
I get it, but listen
We fight for who next up, they comparin’ the writtens
We both got drive, but like a Tesla, my energy different!
And I ain’t even charged for this battle
I guess La Sparka helped me get this far
So I’m in debt to Lars ‘cause I ain’t need gas to get here
But this trip dependin’ on the plug like an electric car
So what’s good, pussy?
I expect you to say you don’t believe in the shots
I hear it a lot, so I been contemplatin’
Lettin’ the Glock spice up that conversation
I’m well-equipped, and the heat wet him ‘til he drop like condensation
Boy, I never missed (mist)
Now the chrome in his grill, and he caught under pressure
Or he facin’ the Eagle like Conor McGregor
Man, I came to put this man on a shirt
I see him outside, then I’m airin’ for sure
Quick to draw in public, and that’ll blow his face up like a caricature
Explains how you nearly died vers’ Sketch, and tonight’s the same verdict
Pushin’ your luck, but the gamble ain’t worth it
This another near-death experience, just know practice makes perfect
‘Cause you know what’s at stake, right?
Either took this for the paid flight
Or to give an arrogant bitch that Ray Rice straight right
And it remains to be seen if I drop a body in plain sight
Remains to be seen? Body in plain sight?
Just do the math - it ain’t rocket science
But me leavin’ Earth increases your odds of dyin’
Concealin’ the type of piece (peace) that won’t stop the violence
And I ain’t worried at all...like Illipsis driving with the cops behind him!
See, I traveled all summer, my stock kept getting stronger
You haven’t done shit, but Willie and Sparka got your back, and they’ll always treat you proper
Until Jisho takes your place, you’re the only main-page battle on the roster
So they put the best that they could get, against the best they had to offer
[Round 1: Illipsis]
Fuck all that!
Said, right the fuck away, let’s keep it 100, ‘cause this pansy’s threatened!
This is war and peace, laurel wreaths to a Panzer engine!
Blood moon on the rise, he see the waxing crescent
Inferno, the flames illuminate the path he’s treaded
You can hear the damned lamenting
Past regrets when they can’t clasp redemption
You can’t fathom the depths
But you can hazard a guess where Max is headin’
Flashback to how this match incepted
Talkback wanna broadcast how “rad his pen is”
Like mine’s not the one they used to clash with legends!
Like mine’s not the one they had to match the best with!
Like mine’s-
Man, forget it
But you know it’s a trap they settin’, right?
Shit, it’s a valid question!
I’ve seen your accolades, and that’s when I got apprehensive of the fan perspective
Shit, y’all only gassed this cretin
Since on online forums, he’s such a nagging presence
A constant whining drone that needs to have attention
Outside of that connection
Max is just a grasping beg that has to ask for credit like a tax exemption!
I bet he claim he “handled Jaws like they were at the dentist”
And this an apt progression?
Nah, it’s chiropractic method!
I’ll snap his back in seconds, so he can stand corrected!
When this was the match suggested, pussy, I was apathetic!
Off how we write alone (a loan), I got no interest in principle (principal)
It’s a bad investment!
Let’s keep it kosher! You whined (Jew wine) for this pairing like a Manischewitz
So I’m washin’ the tool, tryin’ to make the cut: pass the antiseptic
Just give him the large picture: panoramic lenses
You are dying just to die, while I lacked incentive
This ain’t even a battle, it’s a practice session
And you’re an A.I. bot on the lowest challenge setting!
Fight back!
Shit, I don’t even have to press him
I just want it called early like a snap election
He tryin’ to draft amendments to enact protection
They gave me a bill to kill: this won’t get past the Senate!
His writing’s the same on every card, a standard run-of-the-mill
Damn, these rats relentless!
My bad, that’s a Magic reference - you don’t have to get it!
A simple favor could send him up in the air: Anna Kendrick
‘Cause I make an acid bath when I get handed lemons
You’re French? Well, this verse, I brought a chopper to the palace exit
Maxime! Yas, queen, you gettin’ Antoinette’d!
That’s beheaded
So France is gettin’ cut, this story’s Anglo-centric
Or a fade knock his soul out the astral spectrum!
Put a bottle to your waves like a stranded message!
How I fight in the Cage? Dirty: Bad Lieutenant!
You’re a placid, pleasant, standard template
That can’t mask inspection of when he act aggressive
No, a hackish yes-man with a lack of ethics
That dick-suck for a quick buck and fan consensus
No! A bland, synthetic, trash, generic, average, precious, angry peasant
Arrival correlates exactly when the brand descended
‘Cause if he’s what you push as talent, then it’s sad and desperate!
You are bottom-of-the-barrel, fucking rancid remnants
Fucking leech on this league that has latched and bled it
And that’s why Krome and Champ contention is such a hackneyed premise
I’ll leave him hanging from the chain like he can have the necklace
This shit’s a mirror-match?
I’m leavin’ with a cracked reflection, and a scattered semblance in the glass I’ve stepped in
You are dog shit, I am cosmic: that’s expensive
One round, and I ain’t even have to mention how trash Quebec is
Let’s go
[Round 2: Krome]
Man, I already have a headache…

Yo, look, that little growling sound you make when you rap is the most cringe-worthy shit I’ve ever heard in my life!
You need to scratch that noise
Your punchlines don’t sound better when you spit them in the Batman voice!
And tonight, I don’t wanna hear any type of aggression
‘Cause being a pussy made you bipolar in half of a second
Remember when you dissed Manik and bitched up when he was askin’ you questions?
You hated, and then liked him in the span of a sentence
All it took was for Manik to press him to cause manic depression!
He rolled up on you, you seemed panicked for help
Smart enough to know that native smoke would be bad for your health
You fidgety faggot!
Who the fuck told you to rap!?
The closest you been to being an Alpha was joining a frat!
And I ain’t come to play nice with this weirdo!
I’m here to bark on him, since nobody’s bothered
These bullets comin’ out they shell in the crowd
But you goin’ out solo, since you socially awkward!
The shit that you spit put us to sleep
And that ain’t helpin’ your scene generate more profit
Yeah, we cut from a different cloth, and yours got chloroform on it!
So go ahead, spit your played-out lies
You need an ounce of personality to break down mine
Glock party
For the down payment, we droppin’ a body
Riskin’ life to take yours like a kamikaze
Clout-chasin’, sendin’ shots to make the news: no paparazzi
Or gun-butt to try dentin’ (trident in) his grill like Maseratis
I give a fuck about Illipsis
I showed up on my pimp shit
The watch called “Arthritis”: I got a sick wrist
Skeleton face on it like the Misfits
The hands touchin’ gold like Midas
You rock a Fitbit, nitwit!
Man, I swear to God this shit is a joke
You’re just the man out West ‘cause the spot was vacant
DDSS and Sketch left, and Pigsty was on vacation
So they wanna know who next up in Canada, and if this is confirmation
I’m dropping quotes, and I’mma lay it all out to take Illipsis (ellipsis) out that conversation!
And that’s two rounds down, they ain’t stoppin’ the flow
Next round, I’mma talk to your soul
And excuse my French - it always comes out when I’m talkin’ to hoes
[Round 2: Illipsis]
I said, uh…
Said I don’t even have to mention how trash Quebec is...
Have to mention how trash Quebec- but I will!
‘Cause I’m fuckin’ petty like that
Cop’ hit me up, tryin’ to figure out the right match
Like, down to battle Red Flag? I’d have to be in my bag
So instead, they booked his shitty French cousin “White Flag”
We both rep that red and white, so it correlates perfectly
‘Cause work from me turn the leaves of his fleur de lis burgundy
But I heard that Krome made powerful moves
I said, “Cop’, you’re clownin’ me, dude”
It’s Westworld, how you see Krome (chrome) gettin’ broken ‘cause the host is out of the loop
Convinced you all to hail a fake
I’m at a loss - you’re the boss, move major weight?
It’s player piano: ain’t nobody pushin’ ki’s (keys), but still, the song remains the same
Bro, it’s “Le Glock du Quebecois”
That’s the team you rep?
Bro, your weak crew’s French, you all squeeze two TECs?
Low-key, I kinda feel I don’t believe you yet
So I am un-intimidated...by Steel Duceppe!
The fuckin’ “Glock du Quebecois”
Who else is reppin’ the crew?
From what I hear, it’s Trevy and you, and fuckin’ Pepe Le Pew
And you all detail guns you bought for retail, huh?
Pussy with fake stripes - “Uh-HUH!” A female skunk!
But the Glock and the Bloc
We can’t contrast ‘em for a reason
Inflated sense of their importance, no one packed outside their region
He came in feelin’ like he got a real potential as Champion
He’ll put Quebec on the map, you can expect it to happen
Well, the pen that he’d clash with is electorate action
Pussy, I’ll leave your head in a different state for repping separatist factions!
Lame-ass! Got the same chance of bein’ the next leader?
You do battles for free, dummy, like “Vive le Quebec libre”
Then abandoned Montreal, like his borders could not contain him
I stayed where I am to help it grow, my priorities always stationed
This dork want a shot at greatness
Well, sorry, I’m not to play with
I’ll put the division before my gains: that’s the Order of Operations
Look at your past, how it conveys the way you’ve moved
And say it ain’t the truth, like blood tests arranged to trace your roots
You’ve engaged in vain pursuits, like when we tried to set this up
I declined offers for MASS
When we tried lockin’ it, man had denied wanting the match
So the dichotomy vast, homie, I’m bodyin’ Max
And I’m only dissectin’ this frog because I wanted a pass in my biology class!
Said his “heart’s in the wrong place”
Actin’ like he’s plagued by virus
When he’s anxious-minded, panic placed him in a state of crisis
B-Ribbit’s not built for war
Maybe he just ain’t quite like it
You’re a fuckboy with stage fright and 8 Mile-itis!
He constructed an impression where you thought Max would shoot me
Gun under the sweater, covered in his mom’s ratatouille
See, Krome, he, um, (chromium) out his element and prone to panic
Inferno, bet he’d try to catch a spark, and still there’s noble gasses
No reaction! I go Galactus!
I’m the lone jobber sent for Ill to murder
Only one I seen Krome (chrome) bodied on cam’ is the Silver Surfer!
I’m bored wit’ him
Really, this the match you givin’ ‘Lipsis?
He a problem in the game? Shit, I bet Patch could fix the glitches
No one thought that he would win outside the dude’s core base
And that’s Goldilocks’ breakfast - a few cornflakes with a lukewarm take
So tell Michigan J. Frog that I got the shiv in the same box as Vivica A. Fox
Translation: I’m leavin’ Krome (chrome) wit’ the serial (cereal) scraped off!
It’s spillin’ like raindrops
At no point shall the bloodlettin’ cease
I’m makin’ Krome (chrome) look bad, pussy: rust never sleeps
Two

[Round 3: Krome]
Aight, we gotta talk, man
Punchlines aside, this the third round, and I’mma talk to your soul
But lemme start this by saying that “King Whisper” is a fucking horrible name
But we gon’ talk about all the flaws in your whole game plan
‘Bout how being a bland rapper left you with a no-name brand
You battled Chedda (cheddar), and that ain’t put none in your pocket
Battled Sketch, the writing was on the wall that you should probably stop it
You went to war wit’ Real
Even that wasn’t a Deal from which you would profit
Then the Chilla shit was cold, but...nobody watched it
Truth is, you were supposed to be the next big thing
And you ain’t live up to what any of us expected, King
You were that nerd with the great writing, somewhat of a joker
Fast-forward to you telling Chilla his mom survived a stroke just so you could stroke her?…
How much you’ve changed since you first stepped to the scene
That condescending tone that got you known is getting to your head now, it seems
All the people you touched with that atheist scheme
Made Ill viral, and it spread like an infectious disease
But you couldn’t brand yourself, and thought King of the Dot would
Then your next battle out in Toronto was not good
And the relationship between the two divisions? Never been great
But you let Pigsty take all the heat for saying the shit you should’ve said in his place!
‘Cause Vancouver always came last when they were checkin’ for names
They’ll book any URL artist before they get you a plate!
So you cowered away when those questions were raised
The same dude questionin’ religion just accepted his fate?
And it’s sad, ‘cause you’re the one that they respect and they praise!
And you never spoke up for your people
“King Whisper” - now I get it!
That’s a hell of a name!
But that loyalty paid off, right? I mean, hardly, dawg
We booked this for VanCity, the card gets dropped
And it gets less staff promo than Charron freestyling in a parking lot!?!
So I hope you wrote your little heart out, and I hope that you win
And maybe if you go viral, it’ll be like the debt’s paid
And you’ll get the chance to pay your own flight to Toronto and open up Decade!
Good luck!

[Round 3: Illipsis]
I said...that was real dope
Some more shit that won’t happen
Is if Krome rappin’, Krome strappin’ wit’ a chrome Magnum
Krome‘s only line is in his jeans
Fuck is Krome packin’?
Can probably bet it’s no ‘matic (nomadic) like a Cro-Magnon!
BOW! His head cave on site, I’ll leave bone fragments
No, leave brains in ya lap: Jackie Onassis!
I’ll switch the safety off, searchin’, I’ll do Krome (Chrome) graphic
Then go Incognito so they don’t track it!
Fuck whatever high school musical that Krome cast in
Beam put ya cells on display: now we Chromecastin’
Shit, when he die, he’ll probably still be outlived by that ho accent
So this fuckin’ closed-casket gon’ come wit’ a closed caption
I can barely talk to you, the generic ingenue…
Still get riddled (Riddle) from the Chamber like it’s Harry Potter 2!
I use the .357 for my Magnum opus
That’s the handgun quotient
A sawed-off to ya topknot: he’ll get his man-bun toasted!
My gun’s the motherfucking truth
Face facts, the truth hurts
Fuck questions, shoot first
The clip long as Mook’s third!
You mad, Max - hurry home
Got mad MAC’s, squirtin’ those
Drive-by, sprayin’ Krome (chrome): Mad Max: Fury Road
Dick wit’ the shotty
Who I shot? He’s probably unimportant
But for the chain, he (Cheney) get shot in the fuckin’ forest like not wearing hunter’s orange
Gettin’ money off of crime
All the cribs I robbed?
Ironic...how I copped a Porsche 911 off of inside jobs!
The interior’s a mixture of vanilla and milk
Copped a Carrera Coupe the same color as liberal guilt
I reap spoils
I been leavin’ a trail of deceased Royals
Don’t gas him, man, it’s nothin’ out the pump: Peak Oil
Who the slickest wit’ the talk?
Of course I’m bodyin’ Max
I’m gettin’ money out the bando like foreign property tax
No prints, gloves on, burner to his lips
‘Cause when this ratchet kiss a frog, he ain’t turnin’ into shit!
I’m real, boy!
Think it’s funny? Then I’m lettin’ it fly
The long nose on a dummy: I ain’t telin’ a lie!
This could’ve been on Lexx’s league
Still couldn’t say I battled (iBattle) a titan (Titen)
Gun so big that to reload I actually climbed it
Ascendin’ the stock (stalk) just to load up like Jack and the Giant
I ride up, masked up
Get you buried, cock-sucker
In disguise (the skies), wavin’ a stick like ya Fairy Godmother
He ‘bout to tell me how the white man is really oppressed
Bitch, I got your missus in bed refusing to come quietly: resistin’ arrest!
Community Day, she get a nut in the face and Ditto the rest
Switch and he get caught with the AR: it’s a mythical quest, for main static
Branchin’ out? He isn’t growin’ the balls
Yellow and Blue - stuck as an Eevie ‘cause he doesn’t have the stones to evolve!
You’re insignificant, as fiction you consistently produce
That you fuckin’ stitch with unconnected figments of the truth
Beat at his own game, not because this undeveloped, gun-obsessive infant really shoot
It’s just to demonstrate it wasn’t less ridiculous than you!
A cornball that stays worried ‘bout a punchline count
‘Cause he ain’t figured out a way to make his punchlines count!
It’s Illipsis!
VanCity’s King, killer, I’m in business
You aren’t shit, dawg, I talk that shit - it’s a big difference