The battle is over and we have the winner. But firstly let me sum up everything that was rhymed and written.
English Text Battle#2 - Round #1 ETB#2-R#1-Texts and Scores
English Text Battle#2 - Round #2 ETB#2-R#2 - Texts and Scores English Text Battle#2 - Round #3 ETB#2-R#3 - Texts and Scores
And now - the-e-e final texts!
Mozzy Now you’re up shit’s creek with no paddle
Mozzy’s reaching for battle metal
I’m 7-30, bad mouth
Language foul, vocabulary dirty
My lyrical clip’s inserted
It’s verbal murder for certain
Rhyme style’s sturdy
Yours – hudry-gurdy
Can’t afford to disturb me
Curb your mouth, turd, or else
Things might turn up infernal
You’re a sergeant, i’m a colonel
You’re a livejournal germ
On eternal backburner
Learn first, then yearn laurel
You quarrel then quit
When I enter the forum
Yeah, there’s tension between us
Cuz you suck on my penis
You’re a midget chihuahua
I’m a Rothweiler, pups like you i devour
Coming live, from KLD directly
Organized crime is sky-high
Guilds of thieves deal discreetly
If I ever be target of hitmen's designs
I'll defy the abilities of their eyes –
Snipers cursing under their breath
Cuz I'm in five places the same time
Flying swiftly
They pry the night-sights tiredly
Where am I next to? Probably Italy
Sticking my dick in the clit of Kim Klijsters
Publicly adding insult to injury
By fingering loser’s misery
My name dies in the windpipes
Of those who whisper
It chimes with the local skylines –
Russian soul, foreign letters
This soil is still mine
Many got blistered while trying to diss me
I'm quite precise with my daily grind
Many say I'm divine, many prove they're bovine
They lick their lips like listless lizards
Tried to defile me, all they see is my penis
Resigned, dry as a chip, they're stymied
In fact they're frightened, survival unlikely
They lie behind my back to paint me grimy
Then eyes open widely – I bite back unkindly
Landmines blast brightly, the liars get smited
The rhyme-dispossessed spit some poisonous rumours
They scowl spitefully, I'm not controlled by humans
Lyrical antidotes I administer, spoofs are exposed
Fools turn up their noses, I shake loose those bozos
Their stupidity causes me to loot their homes and
Shoot up the goofers, give 'em a boot
Turn them useless
Pussies on booze lose the toss
Snooze and wake up with goose bumps
They opt for truce, offer excuses to stop me
Options costly – I'll topple those who cross me
Possibly, that's why I'm slept on grossly
What’s this? Just shut up and hear Jadakiss
“The Champ Is Here”. From God’s lips to my ears. Kormega
Usually I rhyme on topic, but I ain't see none
So let me spit something on my favourite one
Hip-Hop geography, that's the new Mega lesson
Combined with history, so u gotta press "play"+
Though Earth has four poles for hip-hop it's three
East, West and South, various branches of the tree
+West, g-funk era, The Chronic and Doggystyle
Dr. Dre beats bumping up on the lowrides
California, biatch, it's smooth and it's gangsta
Impalas and drugs, Techs and Smith-n-Wessons
1992, they made the industry blow up
But since Tupac's death, I'm sorry, it's over+
But let's take a ride on the other side, man
What's the illness from the speakers, damn it's Wu-Tang
Nine Generals, killa bees on the swarm
With the mics in the hands since the day they were born
Take it to Brooklyn, B.I.G. coppin' loot
Puff from Uptown knew how to produce
Queensboro Bridge, the whole breed of MCs
Lyrical shit flows on the dopest of beats
Every damn motherfucka had something to say
To pour shit from his chest, to break the walls on his way
New York, big and cold, music digged in yo ears
Breathe of the freedom down the whole atmosphere
The only city, which gave the birth to the style
Big Rotten Apple, Mother Earth's grimey smile+
I hear from the corners: "Fuck, South kills it+"
Kills what, shut up, ignorant dirty-ass kids
think southern style is Atlanta, damn fool
Houston and Miami were the first ones to rule
B-boyin, breakdancing, and crowds of people
Kills+ kill yoself, let the free people breathe, bitch
Complain on the Dirty for them only the beats?
Bring yo ass to the club, stop wankin in da crib!
So what I want to say, if it ain't clear yet
Don't hate on new shit while givin props to the vets
It's all hip-hop, no matter where it comes from
And its different styles that knockin in yo eardrum
It lives and it ain't gonna die very soon
Stop the hate and enjoy, coz it's nothing to mourn
over+
THAT'S THE WAY! Mozzy and Kormega both deserve to be the winners of ETB#2, but we can't have two champs, as it was in ETB#1, huh?
SO, after two days of thinking and evaluating texts, I've finally came to decision...that the one who have submited higly coherent texts, with
TOUGH rhymes, and EATING plots surely MUST win the battle.
All hale
MOZZY
Congrats!