Eleagle vs. D-Lor

Lyrics

[Round 1: Eleagle] Everything I drop today's provoking, I'm not for play or joking I ain't come all the way to Oakland just for that Cali bomber haze we're smoking I came to make you hate me more than when Obama's name is spoken, during supporters of John McCain is voting You'll be so embarrassed you can't see these tapes like Jump Off, when all the tape was stolen When you were in the belly, your momma's legs was open So I ripped off her lingerie I'm stroking on my long grenade and scrotum Fucked that bitch till I felt you kicking and screaming like Will Ferrell, as a soccer player coaching And that's why your jaw and face was broken And you came out and you rap retarded like you're constipated choking Yo I came all the way, to where Dr. Dre is coasting To tell you I have friends in the east that'll fill you with more metal than the X-Men monster named as Logan Not to say you're dope when, it's really untrue If you misconceived as Mr. T, I pity the fool Your mother has more rappers on her, than a video shoot with the remix the A Milli produced I been to ya' city it's cute But I was born in Brooklyn, so I'ma tell you to gimme the loot like Biggie would do And shove my hand up in your honey like Winnie the Pooh [Round 1: D-Lor] Homie, you better respect Lor, you're about to get your flesh torn Watch me open up my chest door, and export a missile like Sektor I'm battling, some average-rapping, half-Latin, backpacking, swagger-jacking bitch Who looks like, Illmaculate You can see him in New York, with a little Hispanic chick, thinking she's the baddest bitch Come to find out, she's really a man and shit Homie, you've just been tranny-tricked There are people tryna bring New York back, you dismay and embarrass them He was afraid of his heritage, so he changed his name to sound, Native American Oh, I'm done? Not even a, bald eagle would be as, endangered or rare as him So, go ahead and channel your animal guide Even he'll say you're a faggot who needs to practice his battling rhymes I got the heart of an African tribe My forefathers would eat your ancestors alive So it's only right, tonight, you get cannibalized [Round 2: Eleagle] You're not the best you sucker I'm about to birth the revolution like Malcolm X's mother I'ma have the condom stretched like Flubber, when I have awesome sex in covers Wit' your momma's breast and blubber And her fat ass makes her look like a Hummer car wit' extra bumpers It's like fucking Kanye West discovered, Consequence's brother But everything you drop is the opposite of gutter Yeah my pops was blessed to suffer, to be named the border-hopper fence and jumper You wanna be on some racist shit? Quit picking on me, I ain't got cotton flesh you fucker So fuck the fact I'm just a beaner, 'cause you suck at rap and bust it weaker Plus the fact you love when teachers, shoved a hand all up your keister Should be more than enough, for you to go back to being a puppet faggot Cousin Skeeter But what you ain't think I ain't know about Downward Light, Output Ratio and luminous flux? I know that ya' name is like your career: who gives a fuck? Are you stupid or what, your movement just sucks And I ain't talking about when you get, duked in the butt [Round 2: D-Lor] I think somebody needs to give a note to this faggot When you use multisyllabics, they're not supposed to be woefully average You're fucking with one of the dopest at rapping I'll break ya' spine into multiple fragments like the Ultimo Dragon And nobody wants to hear this kid on wax I heard this bitch's tracks, and I'm telling you, you don't wanna listen to that hipster trash You prissy-ass sissy fag Go home, listen to Simple Plan, and start a fucking Christian band And that's why you don't wanna see more Lor in a rap Fuck a gun, I'm like Thor when I clap I'll put four in ya' back, like a mortar attack, from the war in Iraq Yeah, the Iraq War, you rap poor, you little crack whore He's the type to wear them old school pajamas, and take it in the trapdoor [Round 3: Eleagle] I think you're done early son I listen to rap, you're all filler and no killer like Sum 41 You really think those played used bars are gonna take you far? You have a better chance rolling through in a busted-up fake used car The way you're rapping is awkward, I should hit you wit' a Jaze Juce bar 'Cause it's guys that make you hard You're so homosexual, gay jokes won't even offend you and make you spar I'd have to talk about how straight you are So before you bet just pay me If you think D-Lor is best you're crazy 'Cause your record's about to feature a big L like Diamond D, Lord Finesse, and AG Aight peep yo, you think the illest rappers, come out the 'villes of Vaca? Your performance has as much presence, as Whoville when the Grinch was stealing Santa Yo you already know that I'm the illest rapper Your grill will shatter when I spill it faster Youi ain't killing me, wit' your Frisco cap You're a disco cat, and you like to listen to Sisqo, that's Mad gay You can't rap way I'm about to beat you, and you already know that you don't have bars to say Yo I think that- [Round 3: D-Lor] I think the crowd, is as confused as me To see a fake-ass Illusion Z, before he went through puberty Homie, I'm a human beast I'll show up in ya' lucid dreams while you snooze and sleep And treat it like the most brutal scene from the movie Scream This is night of the living dead It's pitch-black out, but you won't find me in infrared He the type to see a spider at night start crying and piss his bed And this guy is getting shred, you know I'm an animal God I'll damage ya' jaw, with the mandible claw Yo, I come with the free rhymes And judging by those sleeve size, and the shirt that says Levi's I think he likes to get creampied, by a couple of teen guys Come on son, and you know that I'm sick, I'm rhyming for days What I'm trying to explain Is that his girl could fit a Heineken keg, up her vagina and hide it for days [Round 4: Eleagle] You talk shit over the net, I think ya' keyboard's frail and I won't receive your mail Plus you're from the state where they mostly deport males Which is probably why your album fucking needs more sales This crowd is watching D-Lor fail, get hammered and be more nailed than fucking Eeyore's tail Plus your cheap whore smells like, beached [?] whales and seaport snails And people in New York gon' make you receive more shells than shopping at Sally's seashore sale I need deep words I guess, or deep verses stressed And I'ma spit till there's no motherfucking street surface left That way it won't be a thing of east versus west It'll just be beast versus best, put a quicker beating on you than that heart that you keep in your chest Yo you fuck vegetables, leave a cucumber sore I seen videos of you of '04, how long you gonna be a newcomer for? I heard he was using that title for two summers more Yo 'cause D-Lor ain't shit to me, you sound like Hilary Swank And battle me, I'll give you the fucking boot like Italy's shape You look like a mix of Will Smith and Hilary Banks My brain is like a gun bursting I should win this fucking battle just 'cause you're Zeale and Phranchyze in one person [Round 4: D-Lor] You're dead 'eagle It's time to put you to bed, 'eagle Watch my homies, run into ya' house with the Des' Eagle and make ya' mom spread-eagle This kid is making classics, watch me incinerate this faggot Eleagle, quit talking 'bout ya' immigration status You don't wanna go up to me, ya' flow sucks to me You look like the men that lesbians wanna grow up to be This Ewok chump, 'bout to get Z walk stomped You wouldn't be fly if I pumped up those Reebok pumps Chump, don't ever try to battle Lor in a match Homie, it'll be more than a wrap when I come back Then I'll kill this guy, I got a million rhymes I'll shave ya' hair till it looks like a Brazilian line Come on, you think you killing guys? I'm killing guys And that's the way I do it because, I'm so ill I shine