[Round 1: Dizaster]
You guys know what rhymes with ‘I should’ve been the king in the first place?’
Spittin’ in Eurgh’s face
Congratulations Pat, you turned us into holy believers
You retrieved the item and came back from war
With bullet holes in your t-shirt
If life was like football
This faggot would catch a bullet for me like an open receiver
But you didn’t have to go and do research
I gave you a dead body you owe this to team work
So no matter how you look at it you’re not my opponent
I’m more like your leader
So I told Pat, ‘Stay! Now go fetch it for me like a fuckin’ Golden Retriever’
I mean I gave you a dead body
Before the battle started it was already done
Anybody could’ve beat Cane that day
Mr. Conspiracy could have walked on to the stage and farted on him and won
But when you first meet Pat he actually seems cool ‘til you catch him at the club
Drunk as fuck tellin’ Jamaican dudes how much he loves African people huh
He’s a racist, you can’t escape it, your actions are see-through
You’re destined, being Anglo-Saxon is in your family gene pool
You shoot ‘roids in your ass through the same package and needles
Hollohan used on his back when he tatted the Eagle
Ain’t no way on Earth this match up is equal
My thought process will completely collapse ya cerebral
Dizaster is evil like havin’ a Catholic Cathedral attached to the back of a Preschool
‘Yo I’m the man for the throne, the champ gotta go
His name’s Pat cause he Stay’s in the back of his home
Cause he’s afraid if he leaves he’ll get attacked by Charron
Attacked by Charron, attacked by Charron’
Man if I said you were scared of the dude
Then it would be an understatement
My bad I almost pushed you, he probably would’ve punched my face in
The same way he tells people at the club
How he’ll get drunk and crush their frame in
Until Charron walks up and he tucks his chain in
Why you even wearin’ that shit? Ah, you’re not even wearin’ that shit
Since you’ve had it, no one has even seen you with it on
No one has seen you at all, zero appearances for King Of The Dot
Man you didn’t even have the decency in you to give us an at least three minute blog
Fuck it, he doesn’t talk to his fans on Twitter cause he thinks
Well, on Twitter he’s too G to be on
But a real man is a real man no matter what social media he’s on
See these people are drawn to you cause they think that you strong
But they don’t know you’re an insecure little bitch
Who sees their comments, keeps readin’ along cause he’s such an introverted child he won’t even respond
See we thought you were a Golden Retriever, we’re wrong
You’re just a little seeing eye dog
And we were blind to the fact you were leadin’ us on
But this is the part, I called him Golden Retriever
Cause when I said retrieve it was immediately gone
So I speak to him like he’s my dog
It’s only right I’m the king and I put it in his ear like Cesar Millan
Listen here you cocksucker
I called you out in 2010 and back then you were a lot younger
You were like a brand new phone, no contact on you so I called you up
You didn’t show up like a blocked number
Now you in the eye of the storm, witness that raw thunder
I’m using the site as your grave as motivation to make up for lost hunger
I do a drive by and your godmother hop out of a crop duster
With 11 Arabic dudes armed with box cutters
Fuck around and make me have to pass the Tommy Gun to Marv's brother
And you better hope it d-d-d-d-does not stutter
I pop suckers
Ya homie on the block tryin’ to be the number one block stunner
He try to floss then he’ll get laser beamed for those flashy glasses
If the faggot acts like Scott Summers
You and your bitch can die and you’ll make the news like Tom Tucker
Let me teach you how to actually do a scheme
I’ll show up to Alexander Keith's Factory Brewery, packing an automatic tool with me
Rasputin clashed with Musolini clappin’ an Uzi at everythin’ that randomly moves
‘Til I turn the avenue into a Los Santos shootin’ spree
I’m Franklin with a Kalashnikov at your family eulogy
Open fire like Campo Delgado on the Halifax community
You could be a bear, cat, lion, rhino, Pat that would be cool with me
Cause when I rap I act as if I’m pullin’ an act of animal cruelty
Watch Lassie get neutered and then hand me my jewelry
Yeah, I’m a twisted Arab, being a psychopath isn’t new to me
I move like an Android, I’m an animal fused between
A catalyst while passin’ it through the genes
I’m not even an actual human being
I’m a walkin’ Hannibal movie scene
My thoughts form like Inception, walls around me
Collapse while I’m strapped to a huge machine
Rapidly maneuver rooms full of changin’ gravity
Telepathically movin’ things makin’ the ground crack beneath me
Like Leonardo DiCaprio trapped in a lucid dream
And a fact to you it seems
I been known to knock whiteheads out like acne removal cream
If it wasn’t for this battle with you and me
No one would give a fuck about you like Cassidy’s new CD
And people who should’ve watched my battles online either
They could pass away from actually viewin’ me
Sit alone in you livin’ room, lights go out
Then I flash your computer screen
You see static then die a week later
Like what happens when you view The Ring
That’s how you do the scheme
Yeah, fuck around, yeah get rid of that gangsta vibe
You ain’t from the dark side of the Dartmouth you’re from the safer side
Where the neighbors are always waving hi
And when you walk away they even say ‘Goodbye’
Since you out scale me in weight and size
I’m someone you’re not afraid to try, but that’s fake shit, why?
When you were nice with Math like an Asian guy
Yeah, I battled Arsonal and violated his space like 180 times
But when you battled him you kept complainin’ and walkin’ away
Like this is a waste of time
Funny how he’s from Grape but he stomped you and made you wine (whine)
Like a little bitch, you’re known to run away from fights
You never throw the scrap down
Goin’ through the security at the airport is the only time you ever see Pat down
And this the end, so just go off and deny it
Threatened to us all you’ll retire and just go do a blog of you cryin’
You have the body size of Goliath but what good is havin’ body size
If you don’t have the heart of a lion
Even though I'm taller than him, he’ll always be smaller than I am
This is like Wrestlemania 1, watchin’ Hulk Hogan beat the fuck out of Andre The Giant
[Round 1: Pat Stay]
I fell right into his trap ya’ll, he got me, I admit it
As you can tell I agreed to do long ass rounds and I don’t know why I did it
So I hope ya’ll did ya’ll stretches today cause it might be a wise decision
We’ll probably have full-grown beards by the time we’re finished
Ain’t no thing to me, I just feel bad for the crowd
Could be at home watchin’ a damn movie relaxin’ right now
By the time he gets into through about half his round
You’ll be in the part in Titanic where DiCaprio drowns
Wait, wait, I know that’s not exactly how he died
Just figured I’d save us some time and state that
Cause if I didn’t he would of rebuttaled it like
‘Actually he froze pussy, and his name's Jack’
Aye but this is just a spar, a scrimmage
From start to finish I'ma make it hard to live with
Like a heart condition for this narcissistic mark this
Isn’t a smart decision I kick it hard as
Mixed martial artists, twist his arm ‘til it’s hard to fix him
Like a car when the part is missin’
When you start the engine with the spark ignition, here’s a parkin’ ticket
Mark a target, I marked my target, I’m a marksman
Sharp precision, an artist with the lead, Charles Dickens
Pick ‘em from the furthest distance, it’s hard to miss ‘em
Who startin’ shit? You ain’t startin’ shit, you ain’t sparkin’ shit
You wouldn’t spark my interest
Get your bitch involved, I even target women
When I bust this cap it’ll let her/letter like how you start a sentence
Capital letter, start a sentence, suck a dick
I’m on a whole other level, a stone to a pebble
Sell my soul to the devil, I’m a rebel
This Nova Scotia no coma toast if I throw a blow in December
He’ll be gone ‘til November
See that tough guy shit won’t work on me dawg, they don’t buy it man
Like hair that’s all over hair you lyin’ man
Please test me, you’ll get these fists of fury ‘til my hands tired
Light you up under the chin like a story by the campfire
Aye, remember when we was in Sweden and you slapped buddy?
Ya’ll gotta hear this story, shit was mad funny
Yeah yeah, you got your scuffle threw your little slap
Made a big old dramatic scene then said, ‘Pat get my back’
I stood beside him and had his back, shit I still do
But I ain’t lyin’ that shit you pulled outside was real smooth
The lil’ dude told him, ‘Well let’s take this around the corner on the right’
He pulled this one, ‘Fuck you, fuck them.’
Translation, ‘I don’t wanna fight.’
The cops show up from all the commotion he caused
Cause he was too scared to fight dude
And The Saurus I hate to bring you up in this bro cause I like you
But they start talkin’ to cops like, ‘He pushed this girl, he did this, he did that’
Where I’m from that makes you a couple fuckin’ squealin’ rats
We don’t talk to police, especially when you start the fight
I’m a different breed dawg, you just a bitch who got more bark than bite
And if I am a Golden Retriever it’s only cause people believed your lies
So I am a seeing eye dog cause I’m here to lead the blind
So slap me, I’d smack your little fuckin’ mouth off
Bitch I’ll punch you so damn hard, muthafucker I’ll drop
I busted a dudes skull with a fuckin’ hundred pound rock
The noises he made from the brain damage was sickenin’
Then the sound stopped
I let my emotions get the best of me, sometimes I think I’m emotionless
I just stood over my homies open casket crackin’ jokes and shit
Laughing, pokin’ ‘em
Maybe I’m crazy, maybe it’s how I cope with it
But what’s weird is I cried ‘til the tears smeared my rhymes for ‘em when I wrote the shit
But whatever you do never confuse emotional with weak
I’ll slit ya throat with tears rollin’ down my cheek
Try to make a joke out of me you better leave both eyes open when you sleep
And somethin’ close enough to reach
Cause the last six months of my life I been fucked bro
You think I’m worried about rap?
The next tear that rolls down my face might turn into a permanent tat
You’re a fuckin’ fake spoiled rich suburban brat
When you spray Febreze you probably turn it like this and squirt it like that
And you know what’s somethin’ weird about you that I never understood?
Why do you lie and try to deny that you got it good?
As if you’re ashamed and that it’s cooler to be from the hood
You got it fucked up dawg, oh I get it
You just tryin’ to fit in with the homies right?
In your backyard with your gangster friends bettin’ on pony fights
Your own friends said it
You went from a backpacker to Juggalo to raver to angry gangster
Probably got a picture of Project Pat as your fuckin’ screensaver
Must be nice when you have no bills and Drake’s your neighbor
But that’s some shit I’m gon’ save for later
Time!
[Round 2: Dizaster]
You’re right, I do have Project Pat as my screensaver
That’s still way better than havin’ a Charron lookin’ teenager
This muthafuckers always tryin’ to put his hand on his leg
Charron’s a dope emcee he should get a battle with you without havin’ to beg
Next time you wanna extend a hand out to him
Why don’t your faggot ass just give him a battle instead?
What happened with you and Jeff? I’ll tell you
He had an agreement with him, yeah this cat is a fraud
You had an agreement with him not to spit that
But you switched back on your promise with him and you went back on it all
You had a big pact with him not have no bitch-ass-ness involved
And you said, ‘Please, come on Jeff, no personal bars
We don’t wanna bring up the past and the things that we saw."
And he agreed cause he didn’t wanna take advantage of it all
And you only did that durin’ his biggest match
Where you can catch him off guard
Cause you weren’t man enough to address the topic
When the big cameras are off
That shit was so bad even Mike Vick called up Calicoe like
‘Yo I can’t believe he did that to his dawg’
You learned a lot from Jeff, he helped your bitch ass evolve
And you evolved into a Scientologist
Absorbed all the knowledge you were fathered with
And used it to spit back at God
Turned your back on him, left him in the middle of a massive brawl
Six months passed couldn’t even give him back a call
Cause all the juicin’ in the gym his nuts started to shrink back they're so small
He’s walkin’ around Scotia with a bag of Tic Tacs for some balls
Jeff should’ve smacked the piss out of you
Like he did to Step Easy when they were in the bathroom stall
I seen it happen all, sniff that cause it’s raw
Raw like the impact of a fist against a big cats grill when his chin cracks
As a result of being the biggest dude where he lives at
So he’s never been in a real scrap at all
I bet if I tipped ya head over, ya big ass would fall
Just a big fat Neanderthal
You ain’t about action, you haven’t been tradin’ your jab in
Cause you been too busy chasin’ the dragon
Like Goku when didn’t have the Balls
I’m serious, listen up Patrick Wah
These kids come out the side of their neck
They’re gettin’ their shit snap like Benoit
Yeah serious shit Pat, you want ripped abs?
I could give you a 24-hour fitness membership to a gym class tomorrow
But I’d rather get rid of ya skin fat when I go across ya six pack
With a retractable claw so the next time you have a Big Mac
Your big bitch ass will have to sip that through a straw
You dumb fuck, tried to rebuttal the Golden Retriever shit
But when I called you Golden Retriever
You should’ve taken it as a compliment
Cause all Golden Retriever dogs
Were blessed with the logic and the common sense
Not to betray the friend that they’re bonded with
You’re not a Golden Retriever you’re more like a dishonest Pit
A half-breed, a mutt, that was probably mixed
And the only doggy tricks it was taught was this
And that’s backstabbin’ a person in the back it was brought up with
Eat a doggy dick, eat a fuckin’ doggy dick
Fuck a body bag, I’ll put you in a doggy bag and mop your shit
Talk about I’m the rat when his best friend shit gets real
That’s how the pig will squeal
Jeff told him
‘Are you sure you’re not gonna mention anything in this battle Pat?’
He told him, Trust me, lips are sealed."
That’s why this rat should fry, he’s a rapper from Scotia
Of course he’ll bring up stuff that’s classified
Who’s had your back more than Jeff out of all of these battle guys?
Exactly, you can’t reply and that is why Pat should die
Cause you killed your only dog like the screenwriters from Family Guy
And if you think about it, Jeff is a lot like Family Guy’s dog Brian
Cause he’s always barkin’ and cryin’ every time a black guys walks by him
I promised you I wouldn’t bring up shit in this battle
And I wouldn’t cross the line
But there’s a little thing that I wanted to talk about, that’s fine
Stop denying, I put this on my Mom’s life, I am not lyin’
You were at a show in Scotia
Got socked while you were on the stage on the spot rhymin’
You went outside, started wildin’
Fuck around and got punched and you took off flyin’
And left your little homie behind so he could get stomped by them
I swear to God all this stuff is true
His little fuckin’ homie got fucked up and sent to the hospital
If he would’ve died that night, you would’ve been responsible
You pulled a fuckin’ card and made your younger homie squab for you
He thought Pat would Stay but instead you walked away
And turned you back on him the same way you did to Arsonal
So stop tellin’ me you sucka free
When you don’t even believe it yourself
You’re big but you got the self-esteem of an elf
Time after time you leave your people behind
While they’re screamin’ for help
So when I seen you leave Arsonal alone in the ring spittin’ schemes by himself
All I could think of was, "Damn, history has a strange way of repeatin’ itself!"
It’s over ya gone, ya dead broke, I know you don’t have a job
You’re back livin’ at home with your mom
Tell them Mr. Sucka Free, you don’t pay no rent now
I can’t believe I get to say this to somebody, this all makes sense now
Always talkin’ about some bullshit, that’s why he’s getting’ embarrassed
Sharin’ a therapist with, shut up bitch you live with your parents
Like you’re gonna clap whom?
He brushes his teeth every mornin’ and he comes out of his bathroom
With his mom standin’ right there at the door like
"Okay honey, here’s your vacuum."
Trust me you’ve never been sucker free
I know for a fact your homies told me you were a paperboy ‘til you were 23
A paperboy, like a boss that’s not even part of your nature
How are you a boss when you don’t got any paper?
And if you do it’s cause you’re drivin’ by slow on your little retarded bike
And you’re about to toss it to your neighbors
A fuckin’ paperboy Pat that’s worse than office labor
Of course you don’t got no job
You’re back at home in you mama’s trailer bottled up all this anger
You’re an in-the-closet racist with black bodies hangin’ from his closet hanger
TV paused on Kramer so he can leave, come back and then watch it later
You claim you not a racist but both you squares got burned like a waffle maker
Do us all a favor, stop lookin’ like a fuckin’ Neo-Nazi Army Ranger
Because of you your homies life is in constant danger
You’re not a Saint, Patrick, you’re more like a fallen angel
You can’t call God your savior you're Judas at the Prophets traitor
Yeah, the Prophets Traitor
He exposed how you never been in a fight at all you faker
You’ve never seen contact like broads who get optic lasers
I’ll run a number on your hood like a sponsored racer
I’ll show up to your block take the white like a chalk eraser
I’m like a Boston strangler with the heart of a Toronto hockey player
In the ring I’m like Muhammad Ali crossed with Frazier
Sock you and knock out your jaw retainer
So hard it’ll drop you and your boxin’ trainer
And have him in the background lookin’ like a fuckin’ Harlem shaker
And I still didn’t use “Doppelganger,” “Martian Crater,” “Coffee Maker”
“Condom Flavor,” “Arbitrator,” “modulator”
Someone tell Bender, I’m sorry player
[Round 2: Pat Stay]
Ya’ll ready? That was dope, give it up
But wait, you got it fucked up
I’m not like you, I don’t live with my mom, faggot
And I wasn’t a paperboy, I don’t know what the fuck he’s sayin’
But wait let me guess
You got a bunch of photocopied copies of my paychecks?
That were sent through PayPal
Then you’re gonna start handing out all the statements?
I heard you sent a lot of dick pics to hoes online
Aye, I ain’t mad at you dawg, so do I
Difference is though when they click his they roll their eyes
Then open mine and have to use that lil’ scroll on the side
Straight up don’t leave your bitch with me for the night
I’m servin’ up a log dog I be feedin’ her right
All girth, his girl wanted to see what it’s like
She said it was out of this world, you know, a little meatier right?
Fuck I’m cool as shit, you need to relax, you’re too stiff let loose a bit
Drop your neck, roll your shoulders, start doin’ this
You're lookin’ like a goddamn lunatic
Remember how I beat Hollohan and schooled the kid?
Smooth and slick, make it look like the dude was pissed
Well I'ma use the same formula I used on him
And show you how my style’s his diffusal kit
Check it, see you wild but I got more style than you
I’m so nice my rap name should be “How Are You?”
So funky when I spit, every sec I sniff
Like check my kicks like I stepped in shit
If this a ball game, I’m Lebron James
Bow, from long range, all day
Yeah, the white Snoop Dogg’s back
Invade yo territory and moonwalk back, bitch
It’s so effortless, no pressure it’s nothin’ I don’t sweat the shit
Clothes fresh, Rolex, gold necklace
Sex machine battery sold separate
You got the fuckin’ swag of an old catchers mitt
And rap like you think we on the flo' wrestlin’
Cold steppin’ since ’07 been wreckin’ it, watch, I’m so dexterous
I flip flows just like this, yo check this shit
Murder for hire late night burglarizer
I creep the streets and old ladies grip their purses tighter
Mark McGwire with the bat, split your wig in half swing it so fast
I make fitted caps turn to visors
I blackout all I hear is screams and a churches choir
Walkin’ through a circle of burnin’ fire like a circus tiger
Tie ya to a furnace emerged in gas
Blast the thermostat ‘til the wires and the circuits fried
Slide a burnin’ match then turn it higher
You’re playin’ checkers on a chessboard
Planko with Connect Four
Your hype but it takes away from what you write it’s a double-edged sword
I’m versatility and it’s 100% pure form
I flip styles, missile, get down, see look what I just did now
This round I'ma just smack this bitch round
Like Chris Brown, like sit down
Like, who’s the Golden Retriever in this shit now?
Now watch this how, I spin round, back to that shit about Chris Brown
I make history on this stage
Big as hits to Rihanna’s face with a fist pound
I’m a brick house, with ya bitch whip my dick...out
She went like this...wow
I went like this she went like this...ouch
You get your bang on with the chain on huh? I second-guess it
He just talks out his ass like Ace Ventura: Pet Detective
You say you fucked Scarlett Pain? That couldn’t be less impressive
I’ll respect it when you fuck Rachel Starr or Alexis Texas
Yeah he was givin’ her that “Sexual Healing”
You know, “Expressin’ his feelings”
Yeah kissin’ all in the hoe’s mouth
When she just sucked Lexington Steele’s dick
Bet she didn’t feel shit
Why you don't date Lebanese girls like you, Bachir?
It’d be too competitive over who’d have the coolest beard
Your mom had so much pubic hair it’s her goddamn computer chair
And the men are all control freaks
Go shoppin’ for somethin’ new to wear
And won’t even let their wives leave the house unless they’re rockin’ fuck scuba gear
I went to hang at his place, his Pops said, "Come in."
Told his wife, "Go make him a steak, don’t make a mistake."
She said, "What? Do I or do I not make him a steak?"
He said, "Did I make a mistake?" Kicked the bitch right in the face
Here’s the real question
Why do all your conversations sound like you’re yelling at each other?
How is GHAKAGHAKLAGHA telling her you love her?
You 12-different-colognes-at-once-smellin’ mutha fucker
How the hell can you tell which one smells better than the other?
Now wait, now I might’ve just fucked up my Lebanese connects back home but I don’t care
From now on if I wanna order a doner i’ll just use my neighbors phone and have it go there
And to end this off just to fuck up his flip so he can't rebuttal my shit
Diss my moonwalk right now if you ever sucked a guys dick Time!

[Round 3: Dizaster]
I thought you were sucka free
Why are you askin’ who fuckin’ dissed me? Stop tryin’ to be like me
You wanna fuckin’ diss Arabic people you fuckin’ worthless bitch?
You could suck a fuckin’ Persian dick
You wanna make up fuckin’ Arabic jokes you little worthless bitch?
You can suck a fuckin’ Persian dick
You’re such a fuckin’ racist, you ain’t even wearing the chain
Cause it’s not long enough to hang a black person with
That’s who you are cause you belong in the sewer with the rest of the rats
In a room with a plaque on the wall and a gold medal attached
That says, 'I exposed Jeff for his tats’
This guy, I learned he’s the real racist and I learned a lesson from that
Everything he said about Jeff in his past was only a reflection of Pat’s
See he’s just a white supremacist trash Methodist stash
Yelawolf has incredible tracks redneck with a mask
Who tucked in all of his confederate flag so he can get acceptance from blacks
How fuckin’ pathetic is that?
Like he fuckin’ dissed his boy for a fuckin’ bitch that he sexed in his past
But that’s probably from the same bitch Devenue smashed
I bet if you got an STD check up right now your test wouldn’t pass
Jeff might be the one with the genital rash
But you’re the one on deck with the crabs
So sex with your ass would’ve been her Deadliest Catch
And if I fuck on my bitch and you find out and it’s mentioned in your raps
You better not use your pen and tell her/Pen & Teller
Cause if you do I’ll put your head and legs in a cast and have ‘em severed in half
Bars, compare that to the shit he says when he raps
He attacks quicker than an African Serval Cat, wack
First of all it’s serval not sever-al, how pathetic is Pat?
And second of all if you’re gonna beat me you’re gonna need an animal better than that
Everybody knows that Pat’s cool
Until you see him and he goes to dap you
Extends his hand and then he’s like a ho and slaps you
Some shit that only fags do
He picks up his opponent mid battle and throws his ass
Licks his lips then he goes to grab you
Sticks his fingers in your ears then flicks your nose and then shoulder taps you
And he does that to damn near every opponent that he raps to
Unless he goes against a black dude
And you already known that the facts true
Shit they even felt bad for that line that they won’t react to
But we can tell you that you’ve become positive just like a Pastor at a holy chapel
If you just scroll back to the verses that you wrote for Matthew
He wants to be from America so bad, all the stuff’s true
He thinks he’s from the west coast, what a mark, he’s a dumb goof
He bumpin’ songs from Pac and Kurupt, Snoop
Mobbin’ down the block bustin’ his aerosol Glock from the sun roof
With Hollohan ridin’ shotgun smokin’ black tar through some random light bulb that they unscrewed
Dumb & Dumber ass clowns fuckin’ up the whole spot when they come through
They’ll never save Gotham
Havin’ ‘em both on the job is like havin’ two Robins in one group
You said you wouldn’t spit personal bars, I didn’t trust you
Cause that’s the Art Of War and I’m the one that taught him to Sun Tzu
So you can be Bruce Lee if you want to
Cause if you Bruce Lee then I’m Ip Man the guy that taught him his Kung Fu
The guy that taught him his Kung Fu
Be cautious I walk as God amongst you, you’re my apostle
I’ll sock you ‘til the words come off you like a crossword puzzle
Pop ya thought process bubble so hard you’ll see stars like Hubble
Which makes sense cause every time your squads in trouble
You take off like an Apollo shuttle
But that’s real life shit Pat, those are bars you cannot rebuttal
I bet if my animals ran through your house right now you would book it like Jumanji’s jungle
Always runnin’ away from fights, you already know it’s your thing
All remember from your Arsonal battles you try to run and take cover
Standin’ there for a fuckin’ hour saying, "Pat Stay is a sucker, Pat Stay is a sucker."
And I know y'all had two rounds and you weren’t prepared for another
But what made the thing worse is watchin’ two grown men in the ring that are scared of each other
See most rappers would make excuses
And duck out of battles on why they ain’t travelin’
But Pat’s worse than that
You’ll fuckin’ duck out of a battle while it’s actually happening
It’s not about a paper agreement Pat, it’s a manhood thing
You should never back down from someone who’s challengin’ your manhood
If it happens in a scrap you would swing
See rappers, we like boxers, it’s the same exact fuckin’ thing
As a champion there’s a level of command you have to have in the ring
You not a true champ if you can walk away and turn your back while a challenger swings
And that’s exactly why you don’t deserve to be Canada’s King
You had a bunch of funny shit, I spit real shit
What fans do you actually bring?
You don’t even have a champion’s legacy
Five judged battles in his whole career
He shouldn’t even be standin’ here next to me
Technically his rap sheet is blank, Canibus memory
Yeah, you have fans Pat
But you don’t know what it’s like to have any enemies
You don’t know what it’s like to balance the backstabbers and jealousy
And have to walk around in real life like it isn’t actually affecting me
That’s why I use this stage for these fans to connect with me
Show him who I am and that’s a man of integrity
You’re nice outside of battles but you always attack people so recklessly
But one day the nice guy gon’ come out the shadows eventually
And until then Fresco is more of a man than you’ll ever be
You don’t even have an identity
You’re just a big happy angry sad faggot
That doesn’t even make sense to me
You’re the only dude on the court with no balls
You’re a basketball referee
You have the swagger of Arnold Schwarzenegger when he was havin’ a pregnancy
Him and Patrick both are bi they like takin’ paddle boats and ride
That’s where they go and tan on the ocean side
That’s where Patrick opens wide and lets him splash his load inside
And that’s not being gay at all y'all that’s called having Scotian pride
You’re a murk, what a fuckin’ weirdo
Leavin’ all your people behind, just a little fuckin’ weeny
Ripped to make his limbs tear from his feet
Beat him with a fuckin’ big pair of cleats
He just a big scary freak with a Ric Flair physique
But you been scared of beef
Ever since you went there with Jeff and let shit air in the street
You hustled with him for too long to let him sit there and get beat
So what I’m tryin’ to say is you could’ve been there at least
Instead what you do?
Upload footage of you eatin’ a sandwich on your toilet as you sit there in ya seat
Which doesn’t surprise me anymore Pat cause you’ve been known to shit where you eat
Stop givin’ me that mean face, don’t be the next emcee that I cremate
Lay off the ecstasy, slam on your fuckin’ E brake
You haven’t improved at anythin’ since the Elements League
Just methamphetamines, I’m done messin’ with you fiends
A combination of multiple drug addicts
Living life through the eyes of one faggot like Requiem For A Dream
Stop fuckin’ distractin’ me, this shit is not what it seems
I’m fuckin’ up now, I have to end it with somethin’ crazy
Fuck it, I don’t know what to do, these people are talking during my shit
Fuckin’ it up, fuck
Catch a fuckin’ uppercut, your mother is a slut
Fuck I don’t never even done this before but I have to do it right now
I got Buddhist type wisdom
You’ll walk away from it all if it don’t make no sense
That’s Jewish guy syndrome
You try to run away, I lock you down with these 16’s like a juvenile prison
His crew decide to ride, then his crew can die with him
Get crucified with him, the only chances of you survivin’ are breathin’ through a tube like you were scuba divin’
And no one will be there to view you died like suicide victims
[unclear]…if I choose to fight with him, it’s like gettin’ Hadouken’d by Ryu and Ken, I’ll buddah ki kick him
And every move that I hit him
Will leave him with a pupil missin’ from his eye
Like students in school who try ditchin’
It’s not a movie script, when I leave this dude with blind vision
I’ll remove your eye quicker than Uma Thurman
When she killed the dude who tried switchin’
I will Kill Bill him and leave him with two of his eyes missin’
I hate this shit!

[Round 3: Pat Stay]
He said I had a Ric Flair physique...true
That’s why girls see me walk by they say, "Woo!"
See he choked and pulled out his phone to see it
That was some pathetic shit
You just proved that you can only beat me with a phone on some Joe Pesci shit
Yo when I see you spinnin’ around and swingin’ around and runnin’ around curlin’ I’m thinkin’
"Damn, this guy must beat the shit out of his girlfriend."
I mean damn boy, you like a Motorola phone cause you the first one to flip like you on M androids
Never stops movin’ is like something’s wrong with his nervous system
And he ruins every picture he’s in cause he’s always blurry in them
Like, why so serious?
We was supposed to battle in August but he moved it to the end of January
That’s how much of a queer he is
Clammy palms sweatin’ profusely and he just can’t stop
Every time you give the man props you gotta wipe your hand off
I seen him before the battle comin’ at me lookin’ all happy with his hand like this
I tried to avoid it and gave him the hammer fist and he gave me the trailer hitch
Aye I bet he’s the most intense person to ever play video games with
Eyebrows bouncin’ everywhere makin’ the most ridiculous faces
All into it bitin’ his lips lookin’ like a fuckin’ serial rapist
And his whole body turns with the controller when he steers when he’s racin’
Definite button masher and your controller he’s gettin’ carried away with
And he beats you every game cause you keep peekin’ away from the screen scared that he’ll break it
You don’t know how serious he takes it, you hit the sack now it’s only him
Tryin’ to sleep and all you hear is him on the headset like
"Cover me, I’m goin’ in."
Aye wait, they said
"Pat you can’t beat him with jokes you gotta match this guys intensity"
I said, "Why? What you mean how fast he rhymes and everything?
All that rapid fire delivery, how he act all wild and yell and scream?"
It just sounds cool, he got the crowd fool they’re just distracted by his energy
See Organik wasted paper on him, shouldn’t be promotin’ his ass
It’s not Fair Trade, cause lately everythin’ D composes is trash
Now I ain’t even gonna run that back
But did you find those kind of relatable? I’ll break it down quickly
His bio’s degradable
Bro, do you know what I’ve done for King Of The Dot?
You really think you’re more valuable than me?
You do? Do you understand the impact that me versus Hollohan had on this league?
Goin’ on about how much you care about the chain just beggin’ for people’s attention
But when we needed you the most, you treated it like a joke and couldn’t even defend it
But you know what?
There is a little bit of truth behind some of the shit Dizaster’s been sayin’
I have lost my love for this shit
Cause now it’s just oversaturated and fabricated
They ask you to make a blog before the battle
To make the match entertainin’ and act like you hate him
Then after the battle we’re laughin’ and hangin’
See that’s what I’m saying, it’s wack I hate it
You know from the microphones to the battles on stages
So now everyone can rap about guns now as long as the lines half creative
And this social media shit makes these battle rappers act like they’re famous, man I don’t know
I guess I’m just havin’ trouble tryin’ to adapt to the changes
I used Instagram maybe once in my life, never really used Twitter much
You tell me how many views you have I’ll probably tell you I don’t give a fuck
I don’t even watch battles these days I lost the interest
They used to make me feel like I had the globe in my palm just spinnin’ it on my index
But shit changes doesn’t it? Maybe I’m buggin’
One day I love it, next day I’m sayin’ fuck it
‘Til I step on stage, see the fans that crazy rush hits
And a little voice in my head whispers, "Aye you got this."
Look, see I don’t do this for the chain Diz, I do it for these guys
I do it for my fans who knew I was losin’ my passion but stayed by my side
I do this shit for the dude who wrote me and said my song about alcoholism saved his life
Cause just to know his role model survived the same struggle helped push him and gave him drive
I do this shit for the kid with cancer I used to talk to on the phone
Any day he could’ve died but he said the laughter and excitement he got from my battles and talkin’ to me every day just made him feel alive
Man I’ll never forget the day he called me and told me
His Doc said he’s been gettin’ better and his tumor had shrank in size
Then his mom’s told me she believes me being there for him helped him
And she thanked me crying, now that’s what the fuck I do this for dawg
You just crave the attention you’re like a little college girl
Congrats on your 70,000 Twitter followers Mr. Popular, who gives a fuck?
Who would you be if it wasn’t for this? Ask yourself
And you wouldn’t even be who you are if it wasn’t for mommy and daddy’s help
You see anyone could’ve been you Diz, just had to follow the manuscript
Stress free, rent free
Never had to pay a goddamn bill in his life cause his family’s rich
So while we were all bustin’ our asses to pay the bill
You know bein’ a grown man and shit
He had all those years of free time to write rhymes and practice his battle skills in his family’s crib
You see anyone here could’ve been you Diz
With the funds and proper management
So many opportunities the average man would just never have a chance to get
Like for example his battle with Canibus costed a fortune
How did he manage it?
Organik couldn’t come up with all of the funds
So Diz got his daddy to handle it

[Dizaster]
Bullshit. That's a fucking lie

[Pat Stay]
See anyone of us could’ve been you Diz
Anyone of us could’ve been you Diz
But none of us had these advantages
I mean come on, you were practically handed it
He just took the pass and he ran with it
But I would never wanna be you Diz
Cause if this whole thing magically vanishes
At least I could say that I actually landed this shit on my own
And go out as a champton who wasn’t handed shit
Look, he mad right now
Gonna wire some Western Union from his dad right now
Heads up, he’s bout to throw another beer in the crowd right now
And he was callin’ me a paperboy, I just gotta laugh right now
Cause they’re writin’ his obituary right now in the back right now
Aye and to end this battle off, you’re right
This title don’t really matter to me bro
If I lose tonight I’ll just get my freedom back and my album on the go
Battle who I want, when I want, traveling the globe
And you’ll be practicing at home for your battle with Charron
I almost planned to let him win, you were just my sacrificial goat
I was gonna fuck up on purpose and just act as if I choked
But I just couldn’t let my people down cause the fans is all I know
Ayo Canada!
Your champion is home
And since he was talkin’ about it so much
I guess I gotta address you Charron
I know you’re still mad that I molested you bro
And the whole battle community hasn’t left you alone
Ever since Arsonal showed that pic of me rubbin’ your leg on the couch
But you been dissin’ me for three years, it’s like you’re obsessed with me though
And I haven’t paid him any attention and that’s what affects him the most
Bro, don’t be delusional, I wasn’t duckin’ you, I was just lettin’ you grow
So once you finish potty trainin’ you can step to the throne