 I'll get you walking with this leaf of the injection Ring the bells of all and rip up the Geneva Convention It's on, they won't be breathing by the time the friggin' VASMOS happened We're snatching mics off amateurs and leaving ciphers flattened Skies are black and there's a mutant system Yo, what's going on? It's Earl back here We are here, battle number two of the Somburn Weekend Hashtag Somburn on Twitter Make sure you tweet us with that And on the atthoroughflop account On the atthorough account, all that shit This is Dorot Flop Make sure you subscribe to atthoroughflop And all the Dorot Flop extra battles as well Make sure you watch all the shit of both MCs in the endboard All that good shit This is a pre-party event number one Night number one, battle number two MC on my right-hand side Making his return, you know the name from London Frankie Fraser Let's go On the left-hand side, he won schedule for a two-on-two It happened to Flop, unfortunately So last minute we got this one-on-one He won his tryout up at Raise the Bar Glass go, battle number two Makes some noise for Z Let's go The Somburn warm-up We had the flip off-camera Frankie Fraser is going to go first Let's go, Frankie Right You can't see me, Z I'm on my John Cena's DZ Can you beat me? Please, please, please Just because I was a last-minute replacement It'll still get a W Like Sleepy G So when I sleep this G Z, Z, Z Nah, nah Frank's the track star from Great Britain You'll get put to sleep when you stand Grandpa Abe Simpson He's a jackass Dave England, hats off Abe Lincoln, get your frame ripped The stage sits, the play's written in a page ink For me to talk to these actors Like Ray Winston or Kate Winslow I'm James Lipton Go, go, go Well, to win here, the crowd won't help You've got to earn that turn But if I've seen this DZ face He's got a worse lap Better start swinging Grinning Looks like he's doing a Erklapp Erklapp So it's deffering No remorse Bones and corpse I go to war on a Trojan horse I'm cold in sport I've lowered family members' coffins Can't you think I won't lower yours? Woo! Fuck it, Z, beat me Won't get a chance with lengths apart I'll test his heart He'll dread my bars Don't break his leg in half Like Henrik Glarson Woo! If you're getting depressed Someone tell him he's dead Because you should change your name to Z Because you see Z, Z It's not always meant to be said You're American best I'll tell him Time, it's time, right? Fraggy Fraser Your favourite rappers, favourite rappers Favourite Ghostwriter About as charismatic on stage As Nicholas Cage in Ghostwriter This spastic waist of Fraggy Fraser Stays up watching Channel 4 till 9 in the morning So we can have a power whack to Frazier My professional masturbator One-dimensional insulin spastic swine I'm here ripping the ribbons and body bagging And then zip him up and snap his spine You're battling a Scotsman That no country London's ever heard of Bitch, you should quit Cos that's a sign You'll always be bottoming a card Like kisses on a bitch's valentines Woo! Guess what I'm saying Is you'll never be top of the bill Me and Robert are skilled Mr. Unstoppable Ill You only think he's hip-hop Cos he went on a holiday to Cyprus And got lost up a hill So let's be real, you fucking mug He can write alright But his box more deadly than his bike Cos your lack of presence and delivery Makes you indefinitely shite Any stage I'm beheading a fucking mic I'm a warrior with an armourous mic Scarring your wife with a carpenter's knife Confidence slice her arteries Twice with a harbinger's scythe Rip your heart from you right now For acting like some kind of ghostwriter in legend Try to flog your special offers and shitty bars on me Don't even try it, dude I'm Scottish The only way that I would pay some bars from you Is if you sell me cans of iron brew Ha ha ha ha Sorry Come on, make some noise Come to me, man We've got my face on your wall Don't worry, I'll sign your poster And I'll put your face against the wall Like Henry Poole You'd think Christ had shown up His life is over But don't worry Be happy I'm from that smiley culture So let's tell him If we go to war, it's a red wedding I'm cold in sport Death sets in I told him to score like Jeff Stelin Well, yeah, when you gave me this battle, I said Death, I was glad to accept my fan I thought I was battling Zen Just got to add in the end Attach it in the end Fuck it, it's the last time I'll take a mistake So there's fact when you give me a battle again Next time I'll just wait for the reply with the asterix in Ha ha ha ha You're fucking daft Every battle, mum jolts You freestyle the other half That's what you do It's nighting hard Challenge yourself Come with bars I'll show him what the score is When he goes before the lord is three-oh You ain't got a chromo Blow the four-fifth You've got a slower trigger than only fools and horses Ha ha ha ha Really? It's quite simple Left hook, then the rat hits you Tackling you, wake up on stage Fuck, then the light hits you My fist, bring light into his eye Like the pride symbol You get no reaction when you spray dog It gets weird, but go ahead Take a chance Let's hear Because we all know that freezers' bars Get cheers Two and a half Time's up I came as slain, wrecking, brickless, crattin' Break his neck to 80 sections Vege of chest and brain dissecting My thunderous punches are smacked This brick faster than a main vein injection And if I lose, I will kick this cunt in the balls Harder than motherfuckin' David Beckham plain peckin' Frankie's been shagged by Ian McKellen True story True shit They went for a romantic candle The dinner up in the West End Your asshole must be plugged up with diamond Across the dildos made from metal to get bent By Magneto, because he's technically one of your ex-men I sincerely hope that your dick falls off in public You jimpy mumbling fuckwit Even when I'm in the lines then You should know that beatin' Z is the hellish task Fuck your shitty bars in your fucking face That looks like a fucking V for Vendetta mask Yeah Charlotte Hestentash Anyway Yeah, blood I run n' I'm a living evil ting Nah, fuck that, I'm beheadin' this weedy gimp Can't so fucking stupid this pet got sick but he refused to take it to the vet because he was convinced that PDSA was a Mexican pedo ring. It's a creeper, right? Anyway, you smoke empty rislers and tell your pet gold fist that you're masked as fuck. This bastard can't put in a formal complaint that as the ones who caused the massive fuss because they wouldn't sell them cans of cum. Faggot. Anyway, I wanted to fly his, I wanted to fly his nice. I'll pet this guy like twice. Mate, Chinese tattoo on your neck. I'm sorry to tell you but that shit means fried rice. What is this? Match or test? Either way, man, it's blessed. You don't pop shit. I was gonna diss a soft drink because he's Scottish, but to be honest, I love Ayin Bru and I don't want to get stabbed to death. Z is more than broke. These streets I call my home because I made a name from my city. Like Vito Corleone, man, these people want to know. I'm taking over insane a soldier, full metal jacket. Who's next to Frank shit when Frank flips? I'm going wild with a loaded rifle, about to blow my mind over towels like Goma Pile and still scold a rival. Fuck it. Use your mind and think. Don't matter who you try to convince, you will try and win and fail miserably because my bars go over Scots heads like Gaza at Euro 96. What? It's the ghostwriter fam, course you know me. This Scottish nickname is Scotland's Eek. Why? Because he forces Maltese, calling for some Maltese. Fuck it. I came here to win for the fans and the champ. I won't let them down on abuse, dog. Come on, fella, you're a dungeon dweller, then I'm gonna stretch him out like Stu Hart with a few bars, full bar, and you're foolish, D, because to write this out to watch your trail, it was brutal. Please. It was the clash of the Titans. QVZ. I've been better off watching fucking QVZ. This is a man team. So when you lose this, you realise that Frank's king and in years to come, you'll go, there goes Fraser. You must remember to thank him. See, against Gemini, that trope is excruciating, it shivers painful to watch. Let's go. Come on, man. Anyway, against Gemini, that trope is excruciatingly painful to watch. You called at time and you had about half a fucking round left on the face of the clock. You should have seen it. He was pulling someone past him on a notebook with his face and just stopped. What the fuck was that, retarded shit? If you can't freestyle, just don't battle. Even learn to perfect the barge's spitter train your brain again, a sharper way to come off of the top of the dome, whatever, just respect the fucking art, your prick. You know what I mean? Yeah, he was standing pacing back and forward, repeating himself, like, dropping mics on a locksmith height. Dropping mics on a locksmith height. If you hesitate, just stop the shitting fucking freestyle if you forgot your lines. I'm sick of it. Dropping the standard from these talked about rappers that claim that they the second seed, but then they shit the fucking patch as soon as someone makes his spitting freeze. And exchanging words with me. Mate, what are you fucking doing? Exchanging words with me, whether it's fucking hands thrown or verbally, you'll be left bleeding internally in the infernal rebreathing style that was game over the second this match up started. Call it fucking Germany v Brazil. Yeah, I will fucking, I'll fucking run up in your fucking house, slap your granddad's asses off the mantle, take a piss on the concern, and then I'll fucking set you up. Take a piss, there we, slap your granddad's asses off the mantle, take a piss on the concern, and they'll set your newborn baby's crib on fire so I can watch the fucking sun burn. So gems beat me, show me how I light you up because I'm matchboxers like Frank Warren, Matt Bodd, Frank's a crackpot like Jack Torrance. First battle, you may vicious look calm, good start, you look sharp, but make you sound like M on rap god, fam star.