Illusion-Z vs. Passwurdz

Lyrics

[Round 1: Illusion-Z] It's time for Oakland's faggot, crackpot Nubian clown To lose in the town to the mutant chihuahua I blaze mics and take bikes Cause garbage rapper heartless actor has-beens and gravesites Like Passwurdz, the half-black nerd with a gangsta swagger to hide that he's a black cracker You tote crack pipes and we're both half-white But homie I make it look so damn right 'Cause this a takeover, I break shoulders and blaze doja I'ma invite ya' dame over to taste my great cobra While this lame poser's applying his lipstick with a fucking paint roller before he tastes boner He's getting wet on boners, had his chance at the fame abandoned the game and fell off, get lost poser 'Cause in 2008, nobody mistakes shriveled Deltron clones for DelMon soldiers He had his chance to be a west coast vet And in ten minutes you gon' be an even less-known threat And no vet gon' stress, when you lose to the shaven Latino Tickle Me Elmo next [Round 1: Pass] You little chunti, nigga I'm a real life all-around spitter I break down rappers like you like I break down Swishers And this here's a real battle, I'm not playing around wit' ya' You 'bout to get served now, that's what playing around gets ya' See this is what happens when the scene gets oversaturated It's hella kids like him trying to rap 'cause they, freakishly over-fascinated But this nigga ain't knowing half the basics He don't really wanna battle Pass, he just know he has to face it You just wanna stand next to Pass 'cause he so infatuated And he know I roll purple in my blunts and I mob shit Nigga you roll with a circle full of punks like a mosh pit Homie, you roll with a circle full of squares so you outta shape Yo' rhymes is based on The Saurus in '05 so yo' whole style is outta date Fuck you and any rapper like you Really ain't no telling what Passwurdz might do So how the fuck could I ever get served by you? My rhymes shit on yours from a bird's-eye view Nigga you a bitch, I rep AP Nigga I'm raw and that's why he ain't me You just a- [Round 2: Illusion-Z] It ain't a secret that I boned your momma Get out my face your breath smells like horchata, crossed with horse caca And you the piece of pubic licorice shoving dicks into his clitoris like "Ooh, it's ticklish" And I'm the cat from the tropics And hearing you rap with Ebonics sounds really unnatural, stop it 'Cause this backpacker raps wacker I'm Latin and white so after this fight you just lost to a graham cracker Acts hard but he ain't got the heart to be a Black Panther He's too pussy to go where the lambs gather And everything you say is stupid Ever since you busted your creative juices in your boyfriend's anal pube-age I'ma spit a typhoon that'll kill this guy's crew You failed at everything you ever set your mind to And you ain't got the kinda heart to hurt me 'Cause every night when the sky gets dark he scurries to the nicest part of Berkeley And instead of repping Oakland, that's where he goes looking for men to bone him To, make money for meth and lotion [Round 2: Pass] So, you a funny motherfucker huh? But it still wasn't cracking We all know he kind of a funny motherfucker but you still suck at rapping No matter how hard you practice, or how clever you write You ain't winning this battle bitch, I'm just better at life You know what's funny about you, is you not so tough 'Cause when you rap yo' voice sounds like you ain't got no nuts And yo' calling in life is to be working the taco truck You gon' be 40 years old serving nachos up Damn, I can't even fucking believe it You been living the stereotype ever since you was a fetus When you were born yo' family piled 15 deep up in a Prius And the dashboard had a little bobblehead Jesus Come on blood, you can't fuck with the Fresh Coast You look up to the Fresh Coast I'll bust yo' fucking head lil' sucka now get ghost [Round 3: Illusion-Z] I'm the swiftest Latino that's spitting a free flow I work at a taco truck you're pissed I wouldn't make you a chitlin burrito Fuck that, yo, I'm killing your ego You're the cat that sucks prison libido in a glittery Speedo And fuck it, yeah fuck rap, I'm a Latin pop singer slash a lawn trimmer Flatlining a wack-rhyming rampant cock-licker Tacky African acting like a wacky blond wigger He likes Michael Jackson for his swagger, not Thriller And he's irrelevant and acting like his melanin matters You died, I got time to develop my swagger Shit, but I could be as swagger-less as half you kids in Florida and still turn this bitch to an irrelevant factor 'Cause your shine time died, I'm the hungrier artist You died in '05, I'm just getting started 'Cause if he wasn't here rapping like a cunt he'd be splashing in the tub with a banana in his butt That he stole from my garden, you're tacky and a shmuck And your sister tends to scream in Spanish when we fuck [Round 3: Pass] Look Chris, you don't wanna get famous this way, man I don't know why you started this shit But getting yo' ass served by Passwurdz just ain't a good marketing pitch Especially when you ain't spitting it, so how you gon' make benefit? It's not really a great gimmick to be a feminine-rapping gay immigrant Talking 'bout how you got here, across the border from Mexico In the back of yo' cousin's pickup truck kidding under a bunch of vegetables Come on bruh, like it ain't no worse reality, I got flow bursting outta me You just another generic wack battle rapper with forced multisyllable rhymes and no personality That's why you ain't never gon' make it, you suck and you losing So yo' skill don't really exist, it's just a fucking illusion Get it? You ain't got no best friend, his flow ain't nothing to invest in You look like Rico Suave after a year-long meth binge Shut the fuck up