[Round 1: Raptor]
See, you ain't got no likability 'cause you lack things like ability
You're all pen, no performance
Too bad you can't write delivery
Well as far as pens go
I'd consider this quite tight as lyricists
'Cause if I wanted to write like Soul
Referencing all that scientific shit
And I actually tried to mirror him
Well I could make this the same on either side like it's a line of symmetry
But I ain't like you Soul
'Cause see I am the full package
And everything little thing that is inside it
And if I say it then I mean it
Whether that's dissing you or violence
So always remember Soul, before we ever written I was fighting
And I can end up behind bars much quicker than you can write them
But if you want bars
Well then I'm coming in abundance with punches in explosive rounds
That'll blow up his defense like pufferfish, suck a dick
I hate you more than a Monday shift after a Sunday binge, you little fucking prick
See that battle with Cee Major
That battle with Cee major
That one performance built him up
But ever since, we have the seen the cracks appearing like a builder's bum
But title credentials, is something that we will discuss
And you ain't been winning much
I started slow but I've slowly started to simmer up
Now I got the killer's touch
And I'm gonna leave with a bigger stretch of bodies than Attila the Hun
See you being champion has had this company hurting
Left a lot of the fans disgruntled, Eurgh
And it's 'cause you show no love to the fans
So, the fans they have no love returned
And that's why you get shit views Soul
Plus you always choke, stumble and come unstuck for words
I mean you can't even give 'em replay value
How the fuck you giving 'em their money's worth?
And that's the reason
Every single member of staff is resenting the fact that you represent as the champ
And it's 'cause of the zero affection you have and the energy lacked
And any attempt to connect with the fans
Whilst me, I give everything I have slash anything I can in connection with this brand
See I represent for the fans
Whilst you, are a fucking little pathetic and sad desperate man, stressed in a flat
I mean, how the fuck can they accept as you as a champ when they can't even respect as a man?
It took you six years to get your title shot
Took me two years to get mine
Took you six years to get 100K
It took me six months to get mine
Like you, I woulda been in Canada or the States
If I was somebody they'd let fly
I've been South Africa and Norway
And pretty soon Belgium is next, I am
Way more efficient and consistent
And after noticing the bigger vet's eyes
That's why I have done anything you have ever done, in less time
Fuck a punchline
'Cause sometimes, the cold hard truth is way harder hitting
Now you gonna pay the price
I ain't gonna bargain with him
Start to finish
Who gives a fuck how smart the bars are you've written
If your heart ain't in 'em?
And your bars are way too hard to figure
So I lay down material, that edge it in the room like carpet ripping
I mean
We don't want a fucking in-depth explanation of the martial law or a presentation of the Taj Mahal
We don't give a fuck which Chinese emperor's famous for the Art of War and the makers of katana swords
We don't want a fucking lesson in space and how the stars were formed
Or a reference to a space ship and a darker force
'Cause, these fans can't relate to any of the bars you form
And choking's your Achilles heel, like Talos when he starts to fall in Jason and the Argonauts
You can't write that Soul
So fuck you, and your bars, about sci-fi shows
And all your little fucking Einstein quotes
'Cause I've seen you punch Caustic
Why would I want a right like Soul?
Fuck Shotty's graveyard
'Cause I'mma start up my own, innit
But one that can hold spirits
'Cause, graveyards are for bodies but
I intend to put a Soul in it
Bitch!
[Round 1: Soul]
S'up Don't Flop?
There's some shit we need to get addressed
About that third round choke and all the hate that you men been sending
Since that sentiment has been never ending all up in my texts and mentions
Well I had my shit locked two days out, but after that I hadn't slept a second
Now that's out of my control, still I had to have my effort questioned
Like I hadn't been beheading since 2010 and just kept it stepping
Like I hadn't done 28 rounds in a year where the legends' resting
Like I was them and just left you stressing
Like I hadn't spent it representing
Like six months before, you hadn't elected Jed by referendum
Like I hadn't won the battle of the year
Right after stretching Ness and like I'd-
You know what? Fuck it
But you wanna talk shit about my memory, you're the ones that's been forgetting
'Cause I forgot one round, you forgot 27
But if that loss makes you think that I got exposed
And that the game plan's out there for stopping Soul
Like he can just be aggressive and I'll tuck my tail and probably choke
Well I got a game plan for this rowdy bitch, I'm Holly Holm's boxing coach
I'm back, penned circles around Cee, 'cause he copy writing
This time, you could send Tenchoo and Copywrite in
I'll beat 'em up
This bitch light work, he got sloppy writing
A punk, in a raised pit, and still ain't got the Mosh behind him
I body Ryan
Punch in my setups, that's polished writing
You've got long empty setups and one bar, that's Steven Austin writing
Three minutes rounds, 48 bars, that's what they're timing
So how those three 16's stone cold? He only care what the bottom line is
But fuck your bars, let's get personal since you actually think I'm shook
And how the fuck could I be scared of a man that would hit a woman?
I said you deserved this shot, I was trying to be a nice geezer
It was you Quill or Gem and both of those guys beat you
But Gem said he'll turn Big T to a string vest, whoo! That line's ether
But you're more like a string vest: 'cause you're a see-through wife beater
Now the strap's on the line like a ladder match
I'm thinking bags attacks a handicap
But I'm a man so we ain't having that
But he is like Mick Foley, when his wife gets happy slapped
'Cause half time man kind, but the dude loves cactus jack
And when he's drunk he's aggressive, but that's when he writes best
That one-two one-two like a mic check ain't what the guy meant
He meant 'You wanna fight, yeah? Alright then, put on a nice dress
High-tech high steps
Ah sorry, you don't look enough like my wife yet'
When most women tie the knot, it's the most romantic thing you do for them
His woman tied the knot, in the bandages you put her in
Most women get a marriage certificate, she got a tramp stamp
Most women get a wedding ring, she got her hands wrapped
Most women get a vicar, that they know is devout
She got a fucking referee, like don't poke, scratch or gouge
Standing at the altar, going over her vows
And got a hole in her face before she even opened her mouth
Most women have their dad on their arm, and a glimmer in their eye
She had a cast on her arm, and stitches down the side
That's the reason he left Mosh Team, Shotty dicking down his bride
But that ain't the first time someone's been hitting on his wife
You don't deserve a second chance to live a greater life
I don't think you paid the price
She still sits awake at night
If you thinking here tonight, he'll put his career in flight
Judges taking it away like your visitation rights
No Geneva policies, atone for these atrocities
Your whole demeanor bothers me
A hoe, a leech, a monster he a joke, a fiend, a mockery
A broken weak anomaly
A hopeless mediocrity with no redeeming qualities
You owe her three apologies
For the nipper you had
You can't live with her dad
And for the ribs that you cracked
But if he's over it since he went from a kid to a man
I came to replace scars like Million Dan
I will absolutely ruin, every angle that you're using
'Cause you rapping at the battler, I'm rapping at the human
That's why he ends his round with 'Bitch!', in every battle that he's doing
'Cause he's such a bitch he has to pretend he's battling a woman
[Round 2: Raptor]
Who is this fucking weasel?
Do not make me hit you Jed
You are right, I've hit a bitch
And I won't hesitate to hit a bitch again
See those who said I don't deserve the title shot
Well let me set the record straight
And answer any questions raised
That try and deprecate my resume
I've got one of the most impressive progression rates
In the history of DF to date
I've got the most viewed tryout on the Extra page
And ever since I've been center stage
I gave the real champ his toughest test to date
And many say the decision wasn't correctly made
I got my title shot
After only eight battles that were acapella wait
I rest my case
Plus I'm raw and I always keep it 100
Fuck benzocaine
They don't want you as a champion Soul
And they're willing to sacrifice you for it
So they put you in the ring with Ryan Warhurst
Where you can't find your corners
Man you, die for the cause
And when you, die I cause it
Cam's got his death covered like life insurance
I'll, strike towards him, fry and scorch him
Knock him into a [?] warning
Like I've caught him
Flying a kite in a lightning storm
It's one of them defining performances
Listen, rapper versus fucking tweaker out South Park, fuck this cunt
Listen, 'cause I can be a soul dude
But you can easily disrupt my tune
If you make one step in the wrong direction like 'bust a move'
And if trouble brews, I'll cut the dude
Blade Soul like footie boots
Jack him up, he'll get raised like women's shoes
You can't rap like this
'Cause his Viewpoint sixteen was a fucking travesty
Embarrassing, you can't rap for shit
Fuck you for giving us all AIDS with a rapping vid
And fuck Unan 'cause he tagged you in
I mean, I know it wasn't a massive gig
But did you have to spit
Like your fucking slag of a mum was kipped
Fucking hell, when the track finished
Before he was gonna blow the cam a kiss
Grab a shiv and slash his wrists
You fucking morbid bastard
You were supposed to rap like every other guy
Not sing a fucking lullaby
With the butterflies, [?]
Go and fucking die, underlined
You ain't no champ
You shoulda battled Tony D and done it right
You could've took it in your own hands
But you didn't have the balls to cross that line like a rugby try
Plus if you did you would've got killed by tea like a Russian spy
You ain't no champion Soul
'Cause you ain't got the heart or the passion for it
And the prime example's when you battled Caustic
So let's talk about that performance
What a fucking disgrace
The way you left the fans appalled and the band and all
They had to sit and watch the champion forfeit
Standing awkward, sounding morbid
As he's trying to gather thoughts but cracks were forming
It was time to stand for war
But you didn't display the character for it
You bottled it, like a fucking little faggot that couldn't back his talking
Something you would never see from Raptor Warhurst
I mean, what's the good of being a great writer
When half your shit don't connect
I mean your style's like a shoulder press
You do raise the bar but only to go over head
But I see through your persona, Jed
Quit being Soul a second and spit something from the soul instead
'Cause, they can see and hear the emotion and passion in any bar that I've said
It's like graffiti in a prison cell
I put my heart in the pen
And it's been my passion and hunger
That has seen me reach any target I've set
So I figured I'd make this one sided
If I gave this an arm and a leg
See that's why I got the fans on side
And the way they've got my back it's like a pantomime
This a sacrifice
I've gotta send Soul to the afterlife to have what's mine
So fuck Shotty's graveyard
'Cause I'mma start up my own, innit
But one that can hold spirits
'Cause, graveyards are for bodies but
I came to put a soul in it
[Round 2: Soul]
Raptor, they say you're a great writer, bro
But there's some shit we need to scrutinize first
'Cause against Kannon, you said 'it ain't the same planet when you and I verse'
When U-N-I-verse
When you, U-N-I- that's crazy
You don't just speak
You describe words
Well you've impressed me mate
Not only with what your pen create
But also, you know an awful lot about S-P-ace
And to think on Eurghpinion he said this battle was his whole life
That's swell!
That means not only do you have no bars, you have no life as well
So when I win the title today he'll have to go find himself
I'm the champ, out of this world, I don't owe Ryan's belt
If that's your best paid work
You get your template merc'ed
Your headspace turned
And set face first
To a death ray surge
Briggzy at To The Test 10, I had your sensei served
I rhymed rings around your gas, now it's your ese turn
In fact, I'm surprised you're still actually mates
Because Mosh Team turned you from, shackles and chains
To rapping on stage
To getting flown to Africa, paid
To having a name
To having this chance at the chain
But he started getting jealous
Of what Adam became
Wanted more than half of the fame
Now it's bags of cocaine
He's like a major league pitcher
'Cause after the cage
He turned on his team first second he back to the base
Yo, Eurgh told me it's a title match
I knew it was you because of the way he told me
He didn't even name you homie
Just sent me a snake emoji!
So when you start your setup today
And the punch comes too later
I'll have a punch every bar then a room shaker
I'll blow him out the water, I don't do vapor
You traitor
Rip your idols down: Hussein ya'
Draw blood from the right cross like a Crusader
They trying to put you through this door like a newspaper
'Cept I'll hijack his face like he Moonraker
I see his future up in smoke like a soothsayer
You backstabbed your dad
Luke saber through Vader
Joker, Bruce Wayne ya'
Twoface, so I'm coming for the dude's layer
Give that bitch the womb-breaker
Struggling to move later
Both hips strapped like Tomb Raider
Two player
Coming for some sugar like a new neighbor
Switch and put a plate in his head like the Blue Ranger
You a coke-sniffing, crack-smoking, H-banging glue-taker
Who wants the formula for our E like Schumacher
Pardon me, Schumacher
Dudes asking who slapped ya'
Big mouth, [?]
See triple, brewmaster
Slip and rip, through faster
Split his lip, view fractures
Coordination: watch the hand-eye like Chewbacca
Move past ya'
Let your scars go, Mufasa
Bruise faster
Jurassic World blue raptor
Who backs ya'?
You fags too gassed like Zoolander
Look at the book that I threw at ya'
You 'bout to be a news flash or a new chapter
You think this dude, badder
'Cause he be rising up the ranks but on whose, ladder
Just 'cause your crew, backed ya'
So we could battle in his house don't think it would, matter
The machine getting dusted in his drum like a boom-bapper
So when your clique blow up like C4
They make you open up the show with friends and it ain't T4
Couldn't beat me now, couldn't beat me before
You a pawn that they sacrificed, what you riding D4
Fire on all cylinders like V4s
Till I stretch out his body like a Z4
I thought that's rich, so I brought 'em summat like G4
To run scrubs into the ground and it ain't E4
Peace Corps, Marine Corps
Fuck what you bring
My mind state, is I don't care if I get punched off of him
Be at your Holiday Inn
If you just wanna swing
I'll be creeping through your telly like you just watched The Ring
You see my mind's all stressed
So it's a sign of strength
That I even showed up dog, 'cause I'm off meds
Battled dude Briggzy, like Q-Tip, from Tribe Called Quest
And leave him nothing but remains of what that Fife dog left

[Round 3: Raptor]
I don't know who's a bigger dickhead
You for putting all that shit that goes in a scheme
Or you lot for pretending you know what he means
But see this round I'mma just do me
'Cause it's solidified in a [?] that the sickest rhymers have been decided to end tonight 'cause shit 'cause I've been killing ciphers since Tinchy Strider was a kid beside me
You can't rap for shit Soul
But your writtens kinda hypnotizing
But real emcees know, we don't let his wisdom blind us
They say you better with the pen
Now I say we are different writers
You live for science, I do the math
I am business-minded
And this is why my pen is rising
And you lose here, like you been in the ring with Tyson
'Cause I'll enter his lane and screen, like window-wipers
See, take away Don't Flop, and you don't exist
No one would even note to see he notices
See Soul's the shit
But Jed Mitchell's lonely
So his name Soul it fits
'Cause it also means that he rolling alone, innit
I mean, you got no ambitions and goals to hit
What a fucking loner is
Whole existence solely exists on Skyping at home, you digging poker chips
But, this is where die Soul, mind to make it slow or quick
No description, I can have it put in bulletins like loading clips
Or just drag it out like smoking spliffs
I'll put you through so much fucking pain Soul
You won't be able to cope with it
I'll get in the zone to think
The only thoughts going through that dome of his
Are wishing he wasn't born and hoping this is over quick, bitch
See you don't know shit about my fucking life to judge me right
You don't know what I've had to succumb at times
And summat you'd see as a bumpy ride
Is summat I'd fucking find as a comfy drive in the countryside
Fuck you, who gives a fuck about the stuff you write
Always remember Soul, talent comes behind passion, hunger and pride
You got a pen, I have all of the above combined
Shit this about as evenly matched as a Viewpoint look-alike
I mean you being champion with this company bro
It's stunting it's growth
'Cause, view-wise your numbers are low
And well, you don't do enough to promote
See these fans, they look up to your status
You can't give 'em as much as a post
So now you get put in a hole
Hands down, I swear by it like I'm under an oath
A lot of these people say you shouldn't have the title
The reason is many people believe Cee got the split like Bible believers
So the fans turned on 'em
Started denying the leader like the disciples of Jesus
They just wanna see this rapper crash and burn like the flight of Aaliyah's
I mean, we get what you're writing is genius
But half of us haven't got the science degree required that we can decipher the meaning
You are a fucking walking demonstration that a lack of sex can make you sad
'Cause they can see you're a fucking loser the second you get on stage and rap
'Cause you rap way too much about The Wire, The Walking Dead and Breaking Bad to be serenading gash
This fucking muppet Netflix and chills in preparation for a clash

[Round 3: Soul]
Raptor, outside when we were talking, you were all happy and welcoming
Now you keep saying you're gonna punch me
Are you on another bag of adrenaline?
Do you know, how I know, that he knows, he can't fuck with me?
Against Tony, you told him he was number three
That he was under Soul like comfy sneaks, and under Cee like submarines
And that's a great bar
But, if Uncle T, is number three
And he's under Soul
And under Cee
Where the fuck are you bruv?
Under me
So how the fuck you think you'd do in a clash with me
Shit don't even scratch the surface, you can't compete
I said he'd crumble at the top, in my match with Cee
But you crumbled at the bottom like Amber Leaf
So Shotty passed the keys
Pfft, the fuck are you, a substitute
Showed up on his first day, brung his new shovel through
Crack, remembers nothing
Right now he's just coming to
In a field, with a hole, and a gate that won't budge or move
He struggles till his knuckles blue
Looks around and it comes to you
It's not a field, it's a graveyard that he contributes nothing to
He rummage through for the keys
See me dangle them in front of you
It's a setup
That one hole is the one your crew dug for you
Like that's what you get, for running with that graveyard shit
'Cause you put one grave in that graveyard, that graveyard shit
You work a 9-5 in the graveyard, I'm the graveyard shift
Tombstone through a tombstone, make the graveyard shift
So you can crush the lower tier, but you can't beat established veterans
I'mma need this man's attention, take a seat now class in session
But if he don't pass the test then I'ma see him at detention
Professor Ross Geller, I'm teaching Raptor lessons
I got decisions over Cee, Olde, Matter and Firts
But, he got decisions over Younganz Fusion and
That's it bruv
So why you think they gave you the shot
When you could only win one
Nil by mouth, don't open your trap, this shit's a stitch-up
The cheek of him
Actually thinking he has me
This shit's a bigger gimme from Manny than Timothy Bradley
It's promotional malpractice, not a good match geezer
He Hail Mary haymakers, never threw that either
Got disfigured, Briggzy didn't want to view man's features
I'm saying take 'em out to the body, Chris Eubank Senior
So induce that seizure, before your body on the avenue
This a clash, I don't wanna hear about the tracks you do
Only one rapper in this clash, which one's the rapper dude?
When you rap, they react
When I rap, the rappers do
That's the truth
Look, we both got some losses as our keepsakes
I lost to Caustic, Lee Scott, and a couple you could debate
You lost to Gemin1, Quill, Evila, SleepyGee- wait
You lost to SleepyGee mate?
Sleepy-fucking-Gee mate?
Does he even rap?
Isn't he the DJ?
So if he says at least he raps on beat
What the fuck is Raptor on?
He can't even beat the guy who produced the beat that he's rapping on
So if that's the type to rise the ranks in these types of events
I'm the guy that cheats at hide-and-seek 'cause I will peak next
I could give two flying fucks about the lies that he spreads
And the rhymes that he says
As he dies between breaths
'Cause even Shotty thinks I'll win
You're from the side that he reps
Maybe 'cause I'm not a snake, so I'm the type he respects
Last battle, mighta had a couple nights of sleep less
But tonight your pops' idol will make Ryan seek rest
Let him sleep where he fell, this is me raising hell
You think he just happens to sound like Shotty with a style that he made himself
You think I'll let this bandwagon-jumping, style-biting, coke-sniffing, woman-beating, coattail-riding dweeb take the belt
Then I got two words for you faggot
Behave yourself