[Round 1: Nocando]
You need to realize that real life is just like high school
You're still an underachiever and nobody likes you
You a target, acting like you been a violent creature
N***a, you've been shitted on since Rev Run and DMC was singing My Adidas
I hang with city kids that stay fly til they die like Aaliyah
You run with a whole crew full of bitch ass n***as, a bunch of Madeas
You try to act sick, like you're Grind Time's Hannibal Lecter
But on the inside you're softer than a handful of feathers
To beat you, I don't have to be tactical ever
I'll be practical; pressure
You're so much of a bitch that if you ran away from home you're come home pregnant at the animal shelter
I remember when you were in nursing school and you dropped out cause you couldn't handle the pressure
Or maybe your medication from the manic depression made it hard for you to understand all the lectures
I know a bitch in the valley that says that you like two fingers up the asshole and a paddle for pleasure
While you wear thigh high leg warmers and sing "You drive me crazy" in that Fine Young Cannibal texture
We're in Florida so maybe you should get your flow tighter
With all your hibbidy bibbidy ribbity staccato syncopations you could be ghostwriter for FloRida
You just gotta learn to control your voice and get the grooves in your verse
You're already wearing Apple Bottom jeans now it's time to buy the boots with the fur

[Round 1: Dizaster]
Real talk, no matter what you do my flow's liver
You said I'm the ghostwriter for FloRida
But you so white bro you sound like the ghostwriter for Fort Minor
I said, I met you back in 2001 and back then we was young
We never thought the scene would become this
Shit, we used to battle for fun
And no matter what route we took, and no matter what either one of us seemed t do
At the end, somehow it always ends up being me and you
So fuck you for all the times I got jerked when I ethered you
You little fucking faggot bitch
Well listen I'm an Al-Qaeda activist slash Middle Eastern data analyst
I'm in my caves blasting shit
They try to send his ass to the Florida for anger management
And I raped a Spanish bitch
Whoever gave you your fashion tips was on 800 acid hits
Motherfucker you ain't making no classic hits
And if you are then I'll take your master mix and beat you in the face with it til I crack the disc
Drink a gallon of camel piss
In Los Angeles, he told Dirt he had the style Illmaculate
Bo-Rat and Passwurdz bit
When I first heard it I reacted quick
But come to realize he sold me a bag of shit
Motherfucker you haven't been active since
The battle rapping scene was ran by Brits
And even back then in '07 when this faggot quit
Then left over bars you had for the Jumpoff establishment
Are probably the same ones you debuted on Grind Time and battled Madness with
That's how wack this kid actually is
In L.A. you ain't shit without the dick riders that stick to your side
Who constantly convince you that your shit is fly
And to cover up the fact that you're a struggling artist that's barely even getting by
I know your diet consists of sniffing lines
And the reason I know this is cause I have a mutual friend that's done it with you at least like 50 times
I know your fricking kind
You're the type to ditch the try tip and skip the chicken thighs
You look like all you had for dinner time was a little bit of fries
You're the only dude that goes to Wendy's and order's mini size
Every picture that you're in is minimized
You've been a skinny guy since Biggie died
And this is why, I'm never with the chinky eyed
Ayo, flash back to Lyraflip doing a Slip N Slide inside of Intuitions ride
The first time you ever seen Intuition's chest hair
You were thinking, "Damn, I should probably build a nest there."
Name a department in the world and Nocan' is willing to rock a set there
Unless they're selling men's wear
[Round 2: Nocando]
This was a verse that I was gonna save for later
I grew up with you
You went from backpacker, to Juggalo, to raver to angry gangster
Wait, they're laughing, but you can switch your style but on the inside you can't change your flavor
Even back in 2003 after you spit your punchlines you looked all intense and start breathing hard like you just threw a fucking kamehameha
I bet you, when you're battling, you're imaging you're in a first person shooter
Look, I can see you fucking in a John Woo style movie
Doing a no handed cartwheel, rolling into a shoulder spinning advancing into a back flip
Hoping behind the fucking trash can and a cabinet
Picking up both ratchets, reloading the Mags
Then hopping out the back of them like, "Die you faggity faggot!"
So about that coke shit...
For me to beat a dude as delusional as you, I have to imagine I'm in a Japanese animated movie
So I'm not Nocando, I'm actually a cyborg made from reconstructed analog recording equipment and an old beat up hooptie
N***a, I'm not Nocando, I'm a twenty ton terror on top of Tokyo Towers with two titanium tentacles
N***a, one of them reach half way to Jarajuku asphyxiating yo' bitch
Slapping her in the face while the other one going up her ass while she gasps and doesn't fit turning into half a dozen dicks
Real talk, no more joke lines
You spit a bunch of written shit that was about 400 bars in a week, you were doing the coke line
As far as me, I agreed to this battle drunk in Detroit in no time
N***a, you were sweater than the tea in the south
And I know you wrote something about Detroit cause you used to keeping the D in your mouth
It's all freestyle
Remember, you were in Krack City
Do you still hang out with Avi and Daylyt still?
You remember that time fucking with me you almost got Daylyt killed?
Oh yeah, this motherfucker
It was over on the west side a bunch of bullshit
This n***a Daylyt said he was gonna shoot me you hand him the gun but at home you left the bullets
No, this is a true story
Your whole life you've been a suburban wigger watching the internet living too corny
And there's nothing you can do for me
I take this shit easy, I got my own hype man
If this wasn't accapella I'd use your nose as my mic stand
That was freestyle that was good damn it
[Round 2: Dizaster]
If that was a freestyle wouldn't have to tell them but anyways

He said that was a fucking freestyle
That was no motherfucking freestyle, that was a waste of my motherfucking time
So if you think about it, you technically owe me now
And by the way that's a niche watch, what is that a G-Shock?
Anyway, how about telling your fans why you look like an African American rabbi
Motherfucker I feel like I'm battling with Soul Khan's black side
Yeah you do look like Soul Khan's black side faggot
If Fresco ever met God before he was born and had a chance to be a black guy
He'd request to look like that guy
You know the type that seems like they're half white and freestyles cause they can't write?
Yep, that guy
Motherfucker, you like surfing, swimming, biking and hiking and you hang glide
Congratulations faggot, you're almost as black as Franchise
He keeps his pants tight like Kid Twist when it's dance night
Motherfucking James you're so damn white
I bet in your past life you lived in a half pipe
Wait a minute, that's not a white kid, you are darker than gingivitis
You are darker than a flock of Somalian pirates
You are darker than Marcus Garvey's iris
You are as dark as Marlon Wayans but only cause you're also a White Chick
Muhfucka you're darker than Arsonal when the cops hit the light switch
Muhfucka, you're so dark you remind me of the night stick that almost took Rodney's life with
Yo, I know this is cliche to say but y'all still gon' like this
When I reach into your soul and pull out a white bitch
You moved out from LA to the Bay so your own folks consider you a joke wow
Another real reason you moved out to the O Town
Is cause you stop getting respect in your own home town
Now that he's in 3-05 I bet Florida is your boys now
But when he's in New York he's also known as Troy Brown
I said I spit lead and I never miss
Double gauge barrel Beretta make your belly twist like Method Man on some Belly shit
This dickhead should've been dead ever since the second diss
I'm in this chick's bed getting big head like a jelly fish
The semi spits and leaves you with a skinhead like supremacist
Whatever bitch, we both from L.A. but not to go and disrespect the shit
But Project Blowed buzz been dead like Sega Genesis
I do have some shit about Red Bull, yeah I know The Bay is your home
And you know they gave you the throne cause you're homeboys with motherfucking Aceyalone
Yeah, go ahead predict a bar
That shows and confirms the fact that even you know how much of a bitch you are
I wanna show y'all why freestyling, you should do it
I mean come on it really isn't hard
I'll fucking slice your wrist with a ninja star
You look like a fricking Snicker bar
I caught this motherfucker in a San Francisco bar with his hand dipped in the tipping jar
You're so skinny when you get injured in a car you'll walk out looking like you got injured in a spar
Whatever fuck it
[Round 3: Nocando]
This whole battle, you had nothing but Grind Time references
Because without Grind Time you would never exist
So Project Blowed I've been touring since I was 19
And since then you were at home practicing on your battle rhyme schemes
Low End Theory, going to Japan, France and maybe even London
What the fuck have you done then?
Look, I was sent here by the Save A Kid Foundation
By a Canadian, Vietnamese teenage dying cancer patient
He told me to tell you you're a bitch to your face
He's a bitch-Timmy
Look, you're only a disaster to your parents and race relations
The last time you went to get Chinese food
You opened a fortune cookie and it said, "Watch out. You 'bout to get raped by 80 Asians."
BAM! Next thing you know you woke up in bukaki-palooza
Jizz all over your bushy brow
Dumbfoundead on the sideline screaming "I tried to stop him!"
Jin's whispering in your ear like, "Who's the pussy now?"
Look, you can be overly theatrical and yell and act like you're doing something
But when you do that I just see the stereotype of an overbearing American Jewish woman
It's just like nothing but changing your voice, hand gestures, that annoying rap persona
It's nothing but the girl from Fraiser, Fran Drescher and George Costanza's mama
Look, I know some Asian kids in Korea Town that said told me to tell you to get prepared for a chin check
Cause they've been waiting to slap a JAP since World War II
And you're nothing but a Jewish American Princess
Wait, wait, wait and I'm not done
Your whole battle is about my career but you don't even got one
You said I sniff coke with your homies, you have imaginary friends, I don't do coke
Look, real talk, you wanna be me
I'm a smart guy from a neighborhood riddled with drugs and gang violence
And you can act like you don't wanna be like it
But that's the reason right now you're silent
You're thinking of rebuttals seeming a little befuddled
But after this I'll punch you in stomach until I make a little mud puddle
Oooh
That's the girl your face makes every time I stick my dick in her
I'm like a constellation and she's the Big Dipper
You wanna freestyle but you can't even do it right
Talking about I get mini-size I get supersize
In this country you're a terrorist you don't truth in rights
You can lose your life like it's suicide
I'll beat you black, then brown, then blue and white
And then open the phone book and find some other shit to do tonight
N***a, you live with your parents and make money by walking your mother's poodle
And by "phone book" I meant I'll go on Google
It's over

[Round 3: Dizaster]
Yo, I am sick of people talking about my parents
You bring my parents I'ma start decking you
I'd rather live with my parents and not have to pay when the rent is due
Then live with three of my children that I never have time to pay attention to
You live in Oakland, I'll pull up to your spot bumping Dr. Dre
Leaning out of that window let that Glock clap away
And leave your body on the Dock Of The Bay
But I'm not a singer like Marvin Gaye
Or Lotta Zay
This some shit that I gotta say
Like "fuck you and your favorite holiday"
I'll send your daughter's to you in a casket with half of her neck gone away like Jon Benet
And on the box it'll say "Happy Father's Day"
I'll let the di-di-di-di-di-di chopper spray
And you'll be like Run DMC, "Why do I Walk This Way?"
He brings up personals against me I didn't wanna bring personals
But that's what I have to do if I have to defeat you
I mean I have to actually beat you
Your persona is see through
Battle rapping can't feed you
You did this battle for free too?
Take your faggot ass home Nocan' you family needs you
This motherfucker is my [?]
And when I battled The Saurus, you were on the phone listening to it
And when you heard I was beating him, I bet your soul collapsed
Cause growing up, me and you had the same goal for that
But you salty, I just did it before your ass
You modeled your style after Pete, your formations, your whole attacks
You told me when you'd feel down about losing your battles you'd uplift your soul by listening to The Saurus rap
And I know we're homies Peter but c'mon dawg, how fucking corny is that?
You entered WRC, got smoked in that
Blamed your boy Rheteric and said he hold you back
Then you had a chance to rematch him in Scribble for a shit load of cash
And he simultaneously owned your ass
See what I'm getting at
Is WRC is over, Scribble is over, a rematch, there's no more hope for that
So the motto at the end of the story is that
You'll never ever get a chance to get The Saurus back
All I fucking Know Is That!
Make some noise, what do you mean make some noise?
I'll pick your face up and break your boy
This motherfucking faggot is about to get hurt
I can't stand little fucking wienies skinny in yellow shirts
I'ma treat this muhfucka like he's never been shit
Why y'all fucking laughing I still haven't got to punch
Stop lifting your fucking eye-
Y'all motherfuckers are throwing me off
Listen, I said one day, you gon' learn this
I keep heat like a thermos, burn through your epidermis
Leave you submerged in a furnace like Jews getting murked by Germans
You're the reason they call us nerds and you deserve this
This herb is herbless your punchlines have no surface you're worthless
You're the definition of what Aye Verb's perm is
The vermin go get murdered for certain
I'll make a DVD of your mother swerving and slurping
My sperm, then I'll call it The Return Of The Turban
So who is liable, the eye of a killer, ego maniacal, I'll fight a gorilla
Undeniable skill prior to Thriller you a liar for real
Like Charles Hamilton when he said he was riding with Dilla
If you know [?] in the mirror
I said "fuck you" you bring up my culture, I'm not gonna have it
I'll bomb your car while you in traffic
I'm an Islamic fanatic
I'll put a Nocando in a box and Iron Solomon is a faggot!