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illipsis vs real deal - king of the dot lyrics

[round 1: real deal + illipsis]
yo! y’all hear me?
so this is gastown, but this is nat’s town
so let the clap sounds be yo’ biodiesel
they said little man talks a big game…then it’s time i k!ll him
you gon’ die with that chip to prove that you lyin’, cecil
hold on…cecil the lion, the big-game hunter…
f-ck it! this my first time in vancity!
but, to me, it feels like some kind of sequel
’cause it’s my second time on king of the dot, battling someone awkward
you must be one of brian peoples!
since you home, you better hope the crowd’ll rise, ’cause, talent-wise, you beat
i give a f-ck, check the record: you get ripped on sight like alb-m piracy
f-ck what nat here thought!
you an afterthought, you a travel guide to me
and my p-ssport got more ink than a maori tribal chief!
stop it, natalie!
you went viral dissing god
well, meet the god in the battle scene
i was baptized in the waters of galilee
blessed with the pen, but oh yeah, i can come off the top with the savagery!
these punches? boy, you better learn weaving, and i ain’t talking ’bout tapestry
the way you write? i don’t know…a lot of misses
feels like you watching a pageantry!
your chance to win? slim to none
and the way i am, slim just hopped off the balcony!
you look like a pothead who’s known to roll with fruits, like johnny appleseed!
so when you say your squad is after me, dawg, it baffles me
you look like your whole crew has heart murmurs and pollen allergies!
i bet growing up, you was one of them soft–ss kids who would p-ss out at the sight of blood
he pops off online, but he don’t say sh-t when you come around to size him up
you like, what, 5’5″, 150? so, yeah, i’m down to try my luck
you built like you’re v.i.p…in the dallas buyers club!
keep on truckin’, this where the buck stops
you’ll leave with blood in your grill like you struck a deer
they flew me to put a g in front of nat, so, yeah, i’m bugging here!
some of the sh-t you say is cool, illipsis, but your delivery is dumpster-tier!
and you look like you still try to convince people marilyn manson was paul from the wonder years!
god, you are f-cking weird!
i said, once i t off, i go for the eagle like my next step’s the putter
magazines coming, i suggest jet for cover
i hope your plans consist of hospital stays and bed rest this summer
’cause you finna die…from 40 shots like led zeppelin’s drummer!
so, you’re a fan of comics and hal jordan?
facts!
facts? i don’t know if you’ll be after today
2012, series earth 2, issue 2, read it…green lantern’s g-y
that’s, like, dead-ss serious!

[round 1: illipsis + real deal]
i said i ain’t been in van’ since me and farrell had a cl-ssic, with his best prepared
i had a spring break after, i had a stress leave there
but now, it’s back to cl-ss, and i don’t think this test seems fair
cause i was e’s equal…and sh-t, y’all gave me mc square!
it doesn’t add up
he’s stretched thin while convinced he on his grind
he’s just divided by himself ’cause he still thinks he’s in his prime
time this battle was announced, fans had some riotous views
had a few holding me down, and a bunch riding with you
f-cking philistines whose stances were one-sided with dude
but now?
sh-t, even your fam can wind up tied in the room: that’s an unbias review!
let’s go! who’s cooking now!? who’s the chef!?
let’s get it! okay! okay! talk that sh-t, bro!
i said, i’ll sn-tch the blood tie that i’m due
i’ll smack this dork for the f-ck of it
with this kid, teacher’s got a ruler on his hand: that’s corporal punishment
you pat heads on field trips, ’til you’re sent down with ’em
i sn-tch a skull as a trophy, in the west out k!lling
while you fret ’bout children, man, i x out victims
him and me? different breeds! i said the head count different!
so catch me auditing your cl-ss, expect your craft to be -ssessed
off his top, noggin chop: i’ll drop your apple on the desk!
’cause you can peep the gram
you questioning who actually the chef
if deal’s cooking out in van, sh-t, it’d have to be some meth!
listen, heisenberg raw! stick to being in a lab!
i’ll tell your school board you’re a goof to make the pta mad
i’m taking trevor out the game like a gta patch
tell him i’m danger: i make a teacher break bad!
so if it’s war you want, let’s get forty blocks cordoned off
a kaiju beside you
of course i box unorthodox
code was tomb raider: this b-tch looking sort of lost
translation: i’ll break in your temple with a bow like lara croft!
for the spot, get marked out
i’m using treasure looting as a blueprint
cause you’re washed up for sure and this path get him left in ruins!
on a related note, my chick thicc with two c’s
on the other hand, your chick thick like “who’s he?”
y’all look like twin cellies
i don’t think that it’s healthy
your son looks like madflex: what’s that sh-t tell me?
you’ve been dodging that battle since he can’t raise the bar
this b-tch just duck facing flex: that’s a gym selfie
this should have been his bag, now it’s csi’s case
but i’ve had chilla in my sight, so flex can see it my way
the new blood, have both bleeding out beneath the crime tape
go on a run, then swap bodies like freaky friday!
but run it back!
it’s a murder, i’m just drawing blood for a hobby
this is where i draw the line
let’s just chalk it up to a body!
froggy, amazing how far this tadpole swum
you’re a vacuum of talent, but went to glasgow, huh?
rest in peace, chris cornell
my way will have yours done
since soul already outshined you, i’ll leave this black hole sonned!
i watch a red dwarf struggle to avoid the eclipse
and all i see’s a motherf-cker falling off: that’s a freudian slip!
nah! what i meant to have said is he been overrated
but in the contract, it said to keep it close, debated
they put up a little bit of bread for me to post the bail with
and i’m sending deal back shredded: i’m re-negotiating!
i’ll wave a black flag
punk ain’t die with sid vicious
send real back in a bag, tell his family to deal with it!
it’s illipsis, vancity king k!ller, i’m in business
you sh-t-talk, i talk that sh-t!
it’s a big difference
let’s go!

[round 2: real deal]
yo…we got a battle!
it’s dot mob, p-ssy! we ’bout handling business
i don’t do code names, we call out yo’ name, like “illipsis!”
that means soon as i get the word out, he knows what that means…that’s an ellipsis
or i let him start talking, and three dots cut you off before you finish…that’s an ellipsis

[round 2: illipsis + real deal]
i said, it’s dot-dot-dot mob, p-ssy!
i said, my first url opponent
y’all need to cut the cameras off
willie, sparka, i love you cats, but, god, i need the drugs you man are on!
’cause i said “url opponent”, thinking rum or ave or top
if this who won the casting call, y’all didn’t understand at all!
he thinks he’s moving up on smack, and that’s the f-cking saddest thought
i mean we saw him on ascension, which is somewhat backwards, dawg
cause b-magic, to f-cking reaper
next, he’s running at the vault
and smack saw he was a teacher, and gave him summer madness off!
he got his summer cash withdrawn, just to get served by verb
now, n-body else will school you: homie, that’s a learning curve
i said there’s hunger and there’s thirst, and you exemplify that
he’s giving head in the back if it’ll get him on smack
like “gee whiz, guys! thanks so much for letting me rap!”
you want to fight?
probably right…you’re used to begging for scr-ps!
you’re a b-tch-made b-m, i give the baby what he asks
i’m saying, dawg, i’ll split your noodle like lady and the tramp!
trash plates on url
f-ck the filler you’ve been trying, fam’
always something common in the middle of your rounds: venn diagram!
like, oh, word? now he got a gun of his own?
yeah, homie got a 9…on a scale of 1 to charron!
’cause you were trash back then, but now your substance has grown
to an implausibly old young republicans clone
saying weird sh-t like:
“crackers can’t shoot? well, i’m a way sharper marksman
white boy, pull up with forty k’s: i put the ar in larpin'”
what the f-ck?!
that’s the corny tip you’re on!
don’t act like i had switched your words
when you said, verbatim, “i’ll pull magic card like a science fiction nerd”
and my magic heads know it’s rotten, his mold of reference trash
the cage show him what a mill’ do: i’ll f-cking deck him for that!
what i land’ll plain swamp him, jaws running may get tapped
your style’s amounting to forced punches just so something basic lands!
man, i’m making major moves that’ll manna-trickle
blackened crystals, and i traffic in satanic sigils
chanting incantations over shadowed symbols
satyr standing vigil while the sacrificial lamb gets sickled
yeah, my gang official, banging when we grab the pistol
all you hear is, “magic missile! magic missile!”
so he’s nerdy on smack, but here, you’re on some bully sh-t?
he says he’s got a gun for real, but real ain’t got the bullet in
’cause on king of the dot, he’ll put potatoes on the barrel
b-tch, you’re irish and you’re broke, so, man, they know you wouldn’t spare those!
and he’ll tell you how he’s trapping, talk like you’re the future
the new deal’s got a bird in every pot: that’s herbert hoover!
man this con artist’s spine comprised of a soft cartilage
lines full of stock parlor tricks, hot garbage, it’s raw artifice
you politicking
b-tch, i’m guy fawkes trying to bomb parliament
seeing what he write left it obvious
he play to both sides like a non-partisan!
you transparent!
he’s in the zone!
see through the charlatans plans
like most deals, your presentation’s just a targeted scam designed to market a brand
if that’s the yarn that’s at hand, then, homie, keep going
you can pull the wool over their eyes
just know it’s only over mine ’cause i’m a wolf in sheep’s clothing!
now the flock are out the gates!

[round 3: illipsis]
(to be continued)

- king of the dot lyrics

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