 I spit 116 million killer wasps stinging like dissel tops, prick until the riddle stops Dip and dodge but there's no way to get rid of darts, bitch I'm sick as chicken pox Sick of them picking spots, sprinting as my blisters pop Drippin' in zippin' slop, drippin' from your sister's crotch Wraiths in church, I might speed page your scores, say no more, see ya trade The official first ever on-beat battle of dope, flop, beat, fight, a giant makes a noise! SMC's I'm getting to introduce on this new series, it's new format Shouts to the back of my whole camera team, my whole editing squad As usual, every single time Make sure you hit me on app, Twitter, everyone on the screen, links in the description box Make sure you follow both the MCs, tweet them all your opinions on their battle And make sure you cop their music as well, the adverts will be at the start And watch all of their old battles That's a lot to say but this is gonna be fucking dope This is gonna be a new series for 2015, this is the first ever time we're trying it We've done a couple on-beat classes before This is the first ever fully on-beat event that we planned Alright, battle number one, MC on my right hand side Make sure you cop the album, fill in the dots, make some fucking noise for darts And Cam Link will be in the description And on the same wavelength as all that shit Make sure you cop all his EPs and all his other stuff Make sure you check his drops as well in the end board description On the left hand side, making his on-beat battle return Make some fucking noise for natural, let's go! We're gonna go three beats, one twenty-four each on the beat We change up the format every beat battle This year we wanted to do one twenty-four bar verse per beat Bonesy on the deck is gonna play beat number one It's gonna be on natural verse number one Natural verse dot, let's go Yo, what, natural, G-Y-B? The beat for everyone wondering is Dylan Cooper's state of elevation So you can clog up the comments for that bullshit What, yo, listen? Yo, yo, you say it boss How you like your day job and still looking broken But not do when I ain't caught Think I'm disrespectful, yeah, I'm right back up But it's just thoughts, no lines to be scared of I'd lay money to my tunes at the gulliest Never grew with shooters, but I make your crew dark My clique, your toilet cumer, I move on that gutter tip Too blunt with it, content ain't cutting shit It's blessed if you thinkin' you the best out, fresh mouth Necks bound to my head count, hypes, extra size ain't tied To your defense, cause trying to get a head means You need to stick your neck out, you're trying to barren Raps just to map to life, cards to your chest Man, ceiling with a pack of lies Let me put you on the spot, just to add some light Your track, no boasting, was followed by bragging brides Now maybe there's a formula I'm missing But what you write's wrong, that's called a contradiction In your defense, common sense all twisted The more they say they feel you, the more they oughta listen Quick going on like your album is still kicking You bodying yourself with your fans to the real victims Don't measure up, got image, but skills missing So bring a line of dots, none paper, I still rip him Listen, yo, look right now, he's blending in Just like a wigger in the midst While I get that grouch out, and like a splinter in your wrist This little bitch is gonna got her little nickers in a twist If it weren't for me, you wouldn't know this idiot exists So let me break it down for you, pay attention When he did his zp, I gave him all of his connections Straight dick ride, I tried to saddle man's erections And say his shit was handed to me, something you could mention Man, I gave you every lick that you had Hope you get a bit of shine, and now you think that you're back Well listen, bitch, I am playing with a written attack When I shot up in 24 daggers, I can stick in your back You can't even freestyle and sound shit on a track I guess the fact of the matter is I'm sick of it, rap That real rap shit, to which you will pay an interest And this can't be as about as natural as in says Croppy cats, angry little croppy twats Stereotypical cocky prat in a floppy hat Croppy act, you ain't never gonna knock me back Your mini meat bagger, I'm a giant with a rocket pack Space man, David Bowie's getting space jammed How you gonna fuck with me, you waste man You're an easily replaced man, I'm a hybrid type, rhyme I'm a type right, I'm mind right and great, man Yo, make some noise for round one, let's go! Yo, defining best type of heads like the final breath I leave you ghost with a body of work that I possess Teaming up with Philly officially was your time of death Hope style is dead, you were right after life had left Releases dropped in, even worth speaking of, it's ugly Nobody paying P for them features, dog Jeez, you got cards, Philly's what you're feeding off I see you blocked, and I am blind So I'm feeling dots, my foundations are lifting the room People catching my bars instead of listening to you There's only two outcomes, I either win or you lose Just putting lines over dots like my signature move You imitate art, P&D's just an act you hide Hunger to succeed, match by your actual appetite Embodiment of ink is a sink with a fact you hide The info that flows used to cover up the lack of life Your written's like a comedy sketch Give a fuck, you kill frees like a comic book thread You lose your religion, I'm indifferent, it's blessed Something even rate dots off the top of the head So get a clue, this wet of youth is in that standin' Set a move on my execution or black flag him Loyalty just ain't the rude that he's traveling He jumped off and jumped off and jumped on this bandwagon You ain't fucking with a farmer With a gas pack that's so fucking, we think he was a psalmist And a bag of bad-a-man cats that will run through an alarmist Through an alarmist is to run you out of yarmouth Yo, my flow is so untouchable like the alarmist When the drama starts to fuck a bastard right out of his pajamas So you'll hear a blast, a laughter when a bargain start a saga The alarmist spit-dart and hits the target like an archer, this is real So if I hear him ask for action, I'm a roll-through Swing in a stick like I'm Charlie Chaplin Come through, kicking precision with boss reactions I rep P and D bits, I'm a part of the hardest faction You ain't nothing but a hard-ass bastard acting Fuck breaking him down or cut his carcass into fractions I roll with backs to swing and force you down to clap You're the sickest spitter in your armor from the only one that raps Listen, I tell him facts because I'm honest when I spit He ain't nothing but a big friend with an alcoholic bitch Just willing to hide and cheat every time this bullet hits You're a spider's little wanker that don't know what honesty is And I know that you're my boy, but I have to write this That's the kind of shit that happens when it's battle time, kid And I've murdered you before when I fantasized it Once we make this gangster shrink, I analyze this So listen, yo, yo You and Jack must be close to the facts I've got you sponsored, responses, yeah, oh, you've been back I link charge to your phone lock, it's closed and I'm flat To make you truths that I literally put clothes on your back Up in this ring straight, running for king, your frame's so out of shape You couldn't run in a ring, so don't act like you're fly Guide your walks to the drink, just to featherweight the filly Took under his wing, that straight blood wound Laid where the worms move, grades on the brain I've got you strained like punk brutes If you mistake all my flames, you'll get burned to confirm I get placed before dots like words do I've got you dropping on my left, right, slip, shit Yeah, heads popping like red, like district My lines over heads like set-height, strictness Your lines stuck like hentai bitches It's all hateful from grace, I won't catch you Try suicide, the destination of a rat's room Two seconds flat, you rock like statues Like the scene out of dots, like your tattoos Wrapped off the cycle, pedaling the hype Whole style getting tramped on, begging to get by Your success in the game, at me questioning my eyes Cause I had dots red, the second he sent it in my sights Peace, give it up, give it up There's only so many name flips you can do Before I get bored, innit? Listen, yo, yo Let manna do this and manna do that Manna do hip hop, manna do rap Manna man chats shit, manna get slapped Manna move like that, who's that natural gas to gas When it comes to the war, manna flippin' the rhythm I go skips and I kill him like that, manna bring it right back Back to the old school, fuck a double time I ride just spit that golly, hip hop and fucking boner cypher I've been like this since back when I was a troubled minor This guy's a fag that's straight pussy like a mum's vagina Man, I've just come here to tell him straight Celebrate the fact that I'm exactly what he emulates Yeah, cause outside here nobody knows you I've got a go soon because I've got a show to go to Stacking up my dough dude, you know you can't say shit to me Your type's a mystery that's nonexistent like his history So how you dissing me? Come on, don't be dumb, honey This guy quit his job because he's livin' off that drug money Now with every fabricated lie you find the floor Cause every single time I'm at events he wants to buy a draw You need to wind your jaw, hyping like you're kind of raw I'll admit you're good, but what's a rhino to a minor tour? Man, don't see him to stop these actors Cause shit gets real when you put him off against proper rappers Droppin' bought my f***in' block of velocity raptors This guy's such a fag, I bet he wears his boxes backwards Yo, that's it, give it up, give it up, give it up What's proper p***in' f***in' feeling me?