License $0.00
Free download
Creative Commons license
Commercial uses of this track are NOT allowed.
Adaptations of this track are NOT allowed to be shared.
You must attribute the work in the manner specified by the artist.
phant flow delivery flows freestyle freestyles underground rap hip hop eminem beats battle battles dope
Song Info
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.4 MB • 128 kbps • 0:00
Lyrics
Hey Ratface, it's Phant, it's time to meet your destiny/
Heavenly flowin, steadily blowin up on the best emcees/
Better than me? I doubt it, you dead as a power outage/
"Yo Adept, dude, that man is insane!!!" is what they shouted/
From the stages, ragin like an animal caged/
My mandible sprays and puts you on a cannibal's plate/
So handle your fate, but dont come at me with some corny shit/
Sorry rat, but you got matched up with the best in the tournament/
I'm the illest...Not Len, not Milo, not Nate Blaze/
Not Change, not Spawn, NOT RATFACE/
And now I'm facin Splinter in the winner's circle/
I'll whip him, but then I gotta beat the Ninja Turtles/
Ya flow's barely bearable and all I hear's talk/
So you should just thank the Shredder for cuttin ya fuckin ear off/
He did you a favor cuz yo you suck at this rap shit/
On a scale from 1-10, you your score is a fucking faggot/
And postin shirtless pics? Thats very gay shit/
Get weights, kid....I've seen better chests in my parents' basement/
Plus you got a filthy demeanor/
You could jump rioght in the mud and walk away a bit cleaner/
Cuz youre disgustin, Pigpen is holdin his balls/
Get in the shower, dog...come out from your hole in the wall/
But hold the applause, Im crazy, better watch your mouth, Ad/
I'll come to your house, fag...it's also known as the mouse pad/
And now we gotta talk about your nose, it's swollen, dog/
Rollin hard with ya boogers the size of some bowling balls/
Hold up, dog...back to ya filth, you need to wipe that tar off/
Or you need to go skinny-dipping inside a car wash/
You dirty motherfucker, bet you disgust whores/
It looks like you've been doin chest bumps with fuckin dust storms/
So please brush more, ya teeth are brown and dead/
Them shits are the same color as the cross around ya neck/
But nice body, for real, this kid is strong/
Look at them arms, as he's dead-lifting his bitch's thong/
Shit is wrong, I wanna say sorry you tan rapper/
I'm SORRY that you livin in a house made out of graham crackers/
Your crib is terrible and dont you find it odd.../
That every time there's a storm that you wind up in Oz?/
On the Yellow-Teeth Road, I mean Brick, this geek's sick/
You need to start oilin up with bottles of Speedstick/
Peep this, man....look at ya gut, Adept/
And please get that girl's belt off of ya fuckin neck/
It's sacreligious...and Jesus aint lovin you now/
He's lookin down like "Who the fuck is this cow!!!???"/
I'm bustin this now, breakin this down and shakin this clown/
Until Satan's aroused, ragin and blazin that A's in his house/
I put him down there, because he went for the mic/
It's like cheese on a mousetrap, I ended ya lifeeeee.....
So you rhyme on stage, you aint the best of emcees/
Oh you open for Esoteric? Maybe sexually/
You up there like an idiot, rappin and screamin, son/
The crowd throws tomatoes, you catch em and eat em, dun/
Oh you wanna step to me? Dont even turn the mic on/
I suck the life outta rats, quicker than Burmese pythons....
On
Playlists
