[Round 1: Shox The Rebel]
Let's get straight to it, I am ready to walk in your shoes bro
I mean there's doubts in their minds, you know
But today, I came to remove those
'Cuz their brains are wrestling with whether I can Undertaker/undertake a match like this, give 'em a True Show
But I earned/Urned you on the way to the ring and this shit gonna end with a Tombstone
I'm too cold
Three rounds I'm flamin' this clown
There'll be a shift in the boss or your wig's comin' off, either way, I'm takin' your crown
So get to breaking me down for the street talk
For this one I'm putting down those flames
You're still gonna kneel/Neil, my Armstrong 'cuz steppin' on that rock made me a household name
It's a shame what I'ma do
You'll say Soul was shaken, he couldn't handle it
When Shox got @ him, soulwastaken
If making strings of one-bar multi punches makes you special, I'm a freak show
I control the mob - Gambinos, he knows
My name followed by Green - Cee-Lo
I catch cases on rotation - Heathrow
Cross the line and get voided - free throw
Two legends got Heat covered - Deniro on Pacino
For giving me the Boss I have to leave his shit looking like Debo
'Cuz I finally caught up with this Virgin like TiVo
That shit ain't hard, like that punch you swung when Jefferson lost face
Still you got banned from the league 'cuz violence onstage is something a boss hates
But then you came back and became champ, it's like they gave you a hot plate
You let this gas trick bypass the ban 'cuz you couldn't stomach the loss, whey./(Let this gastric bypass the band, 'cuz you couldn't stomach the lost weight)
It's time for a change, and I came to flame on son
You know once the son of Sam Cooke/Sam cook A Change Gon' Come
I grew for ten months baby - it's overdue
They're over you
'Cuz you don't really do what a champ is supposed to do
See this right here, Mark Wahlberg premier
Yeah they clap for the shooter
Last time I was entertained by a Great Scott/Scot I watched Back To The Future
Do your work, 'cuz you bitched out on Tony
You ain't earned this shit in the least
You're like Hank McCoy, 'cuz your daddy had to plant a seed to turn you into a beast
I mean your first three years battling, nobody fucked with you
I ain't even been battling three years and I'm stood here in front of you
That was my day one mandate
Don the apron and put one on the knuckle like a Mason's handshake
You're more emo than a mandrake/man Drake
But my whole camp fire so raise a toast
I've been spitting flames over bread to put this target on the wings
I had to spit fire/Spitfire that went plain/plane over heads then
Drop bombs to spin my ally on his axis
'Cuz this chopping block made for your head, Jed
So you can see how sharp my ax is
'Cuz execution is everything
My punch count - shakes peers/Shakespeare's, what I've done can/Duncan murder a Scot
It's nothing to kill the king
Macbeth bars
Since you wanna play with a curse I'ma hit hard with those
The moral of the story? Well you should have been careful which craft/witchcraft you chose
So go ahead - pretend to be clever
Spit your phony verse with flair
Tell a man you're gonna storm the beach of Normandy in '43...and be the only person there
I know, you're gonna say I fucked up the hangman reference, like it was poor and it was shoddy
But efficient killers don't waste time drawing on a body
Should probably mention 7th Birthday - onstage you lost it soldier
You look drained, cleaned/drain cleaned out, didn't deserve to serve Caustic soda
Your career went so far, then soon as you acted gangster/Gang Starr, caught more hate than Solar
All those robberies you got away with just to die asking for smoke like Omar
Those bars ain't something I spit for your respect
Let's see how much you love The Wire when it's twisted round your neck
Catch your breath - I need this
My endgame less dope
I'll pair a younger with fifty to slice your throat - that's a fucking death note
So let's go, just know I don't spit the street shit to diss you
It's 'cuz I got a photographic memory, so as an artist I can only draw from what I've been through
Now it's your time to die
You've got an animal in your boat - Life of Pi
I'm tryin' to leave behind a life of crime
I guess it's one good deed for another, 'cuz the title's mine
Fuck off
[Round 1: Soul]
Yo, he said I don't do what a champion's supposed to do? Don't even try it bruv
What, rinse every contender 'till they have to scrape the barrel to find me one?
What up, Don't Flop? There's some shit we need to get addressin'
About my third...title match and the levels set for the next contention
Shit I've been defendin' against these plebs and every weapon that gets to steppin'
Sayin' they next up 'til they get crushed - shit you better tell 'em
I write a madness, the pad is remanded, the pen is sectioned
Psychiatrists have to wake it up inside like Evanescence
But still it's this time, it's this guy - 'til they get rejected
Then forget I'm quick as math - twenty seven levels set in steps to get my rep to legend
Never mentioned that any sentence would be any henchmen, ten-a-penny beggy cretin, URL clones with less aggression, dick-suckin', roster-fillin', petty yes men, flavour of the month one-trick-pony co-main eventin' peasants
But yo, if they say he's the next ascension, then Jed condemn him
And you can know that the road to Hell is paved with the best intentions
Let me simplify - gettin' this shot must be dead depressin'
It's more a compliment to my dominance that you got this shot without any question
No fans upset, no debates, no ifs, no ands, buts, yeah
'Cuz I rinsed the whole roster out that had some threat
You ain't the next one up, you're just the last one left
So upper half or middle - he already know what tier he in
He barely hopes he'll make it close - I can't take him serious
If he's Shox, then you're thunder - 'cuz I'm definitely seeing him
And the noise you make will let us know how far away from me he is
But I'll put the punches behind me - they think he went Bruce Lee on dude
'Cuz you rely on wordplay, I gas them up by speaking truth
You supply the ticket link, I supply the reason to
They wonder he can even win, they wonder can I even lose
This the only thing he's ever done or ever will to get decent views
I'll get a better offer than this in a week or two
This is hands down, no question, the best battle that he will do
So how is this getting peak for me, cuz? This is the peak for you
When I battle against my inspiration I got writer's block
When he battles against his inspiration, it's this title shot
Talk about my dying dog, it's hardly that deep
Plus I doubt they're stupid enough to bite when you bark up that tree
But when my sons become stars when I depart from the scene
Know that's the only thing similar to Marly and Me
Shit, your stock's based on a forum - a bandwagon that shuffles your ears in an echo chamber
Your ego trapped in a bubble - I'll expose what he's written as average and muddled
I duel Shox/Dualshocks when he's vibrated then his pad getting rumbled
Your biggest accomplishment is nearly beating Tony, lad
They judge me off my wins, not the wins that I almost had
Small room battler, had to whip up the Death Note
For the physical embodiment of the Fiddler's Elbow
But you put him on a big stage, he boring as fuck
You got this battle off a loss, him and Tony was judged
And I ain't sayin' you don't deserve your shot, that would be totally nuts
I'm saying you only deserve your shot because nobody does
[Round 2: Shox The Rebel]
So it's "Frankenstein's lab design", right? If you're gonna rap a line like that, do it properly
Putting Shox/shocks through a bar wasn't lightning but now you gave life to a body
I watched you spit this shit, like "This boy's all too clever."
Then you got to the next/necks wordplay and went out on a limb to stitch it all together
So let me pick him apart
I watched you destroy Raptor, like "Woah, that's hard."
But you did it in London - I guess bro lacks heart
'Cuz like Honey I Shrank The Kids, I made him fear the big man in his own backyard
So stop faking you're hard
If I let a Glasgow kiss/glass go kiss goodbye to your face in a bar
I will leave you painfully scarred
And change your whole view of London when your eye takes in a Shard
I ain't Caustic in a fight, scrap, I'll fight back
And get belled later
You can get a boot in your grill - tailgater
I box Soul - I'm a Hellraiser
Watch him try lay Shox on the counter like he sell tazers
Cave your eye socket - cold facts
It's in my genes/jeans to leave eyes/Levi's twisted when I throw back
I hold weight off the shoulder, bro, I'm no strap
Have him running out the blue like the cold tap
Hold that
I already told you I'm raising hell, so pray for help
Before I leave you with so much fucking brain damage you won't know how to behave yourself
Rowan did you dirty, he picked your death on a card like how that Tarot go
You got so much shade from son/sun, you should be feeling para[noid], Soul/parasol
Now you have to go, but they can live with it
See your punchlines are weak, they're just delivered slick
It's the flow that carries Soul like the river Styx
I'ma flip the script
Let's talk about how insecure this cunt is
You reference the UFC every battle, but the comparisons lack any substance
'Cuz you defend before we can attack every time, it's what his crutch is
Just like the octagon, on cam we can see defence/the fence behind the punches
In between battles you just sit at home playing Hearthstone like it's a cold hobby
Crying yourself to sleep at night 'cuz your social life is so shoddy
But that's why you chose the name Soul, innit - 'cuz you got nobody
Even took up online poker with a chat room just to have someone there
And break up the monotonous choice of Solitaire or wash his hair
That's why the generic roadman shit ain't got me scared
We're both dealers, just playing the cards we were dealt
But they're blind to the fact you're going all in, 'cuz it's hard to tell
Against Cee, you mentioned Blizz and Grist, like without them he wouldn't have done half as well
Which proves you're just jealous of everyone that's blew/blue like Gargamel
It don't harbour well with the fans
They love the fact that you write lots, but when they hear your voice offstage it's like your mic's off
'Cuz you just do it over a check like a Nike top
Look I write off a fee, I don't need to pretend
Whether or not I'm paid in full, Mitchell/Phil Mitchell die in the end
'Specially when I quote this next line that he said
Bear with me, against Real Deal you said:
"I'll own this guy/Dome this guy/I'm not about to let a teacher take away my golden time"
Fuckin' wait a minute, run it back a line and hold it, right
Did you tell a crowd full of dudes you were gonna dome a guy?
In the middle of a scheme about having the coldest fight
Look I won't just lie, that's some suspect shit
Whoever taught you to fight is fucking sick
What, d'you jab a left, hook a right, snuff him quick
Then pin him down and suck his dick?
You were just a tick on your sensei's bucket list
When he said "Throw two punches for every one he throw, that's the ratio
Then put him in a submission position and finish him off with fellatio"
That's rape, bro
Look it ain't really my thing to make a joke
I'm just showing I've got gold on every level like a stately home
So mate, let's go
Call me fake, just know that ain't takin' the heart off of me yet
But drop me out with all the smack talk - "Nahh'm sayin'" - you can't copy respect
If I wanted Jed dead for real, it's easy
Roll up three grand in fifties, with my team in the whip
Stuff it in the barrels of two shotties, have 'em cleaned to the click
Tell 'im Jeffy P in for kicks if you bein' a prick
Means make him vanish from the scene, that's three G/3G in the sticks
Fuck off
[Round 2: Soul]
Yo, so this December, Shox the psychologist, AKA fuckin' Dr. Dimwit
Said "If you're feelin' lonely at the holidays, and you're gonna do something stupid
Well, I bought a SIM, you all can ring - I'm here to talk and listen"
Bro, what do you think is on their wishlist?
Oh yeah, cuz there's nothing that's gonna make me want to not kill myself, like talking to Shox on Christmas
Like, "Man, the wife has left me, the kids have gone, it's just hard bruv"
"Yeah yeah, safe, wanna hear these bars cuz?"
They're playing "Hm, what can kill me quickest?" Fucking slashing at the wrists, while they're hanging from a bridge
And with the hand that they're cutting, they've got a strap up to their wig
More death on his Sims than a psychopathic kid
Yo, everyone that called you with depression are in bags
Or were obsessive little fans just pretending to be sad
Except one, "Wrong number, just trying to ring and get through"
Spent two minutes on the phone and he killed himself too
Imagine, you ring him up feeling so suicidal
He sends you a ticket link, like, "Could be worse, cuz, I'm battling Soul for the title"
You're battling Soul for the title?
You should have mentioned, right?
Oh fuck, no he did mention it -- SEVEN HUNDRED TIMES
Big man, you were so excited for this - it was ridiculous to see
Thirty six years old, like a kid on Christmas Eve
Scrunching up his throwaways - stick 'em on a tree
Could've sworn he heard a "Don DeMarco" by his window, just to see...
Yo, man he's all excited 'bout the title match, like "Let's get busy"
'Cuz he 36 trapping in a dead end, ain't he?
Since he got points on the snow, you a big friend sissy
You see Shox is just a HO, the SX tricky
Saying that you been grinding - every match I've done lately
It send him off the rails, watch his backside 180
This clash might become crazy, thinkin' this is a test
He'll slide down the polls/poles 'til he's 50-50 at best
Hope you didn't bring your gun bars to then test your penmanship
We best friends forever, this what Red Dead Redemption did
Hacksaw, Jim Duggan's best ever entrances
Face in the plank on some Ed, Edd and Eddy shit
Facin' the plank, you've been sentenced to drowning, lad
For your mutiny, the crew with me, never I'll crown a champ
That's what rebels do, Ars Tone, never a doubt in that
He a rebel without a cause, you a rebel without a chance
I don't have guns, that's just the sound of my raps, bruv
Spit these bars they slash tongues and collapse lungs
I don't need a strap tucked, I'll just put a grand up
And watch the look on his face change with a bag on his head like Manhunt
I'm masked up [?]
I give a fuck if the dude a trapper
'Cuz he gettin' tired of it, that's a proven factor
Tweetin' "I need a job, this is gettin' old" - what a stupid wanker
The rebel flaggin' in the hood like the Dukes of Hazzard
I'll put him through the rafters, he could never be the champ
You just reached the front of the queue, I'ma send him to the back
But in the land of the blind, the one-eyed man can start reignin'
The two-eyed man sees through it, ain't partaking
The bird's eye showin' the kingdoms they aren't saying [?]
My third eye open, they thinkin' I'm Stark ravin'
Nah, Carl Sagan with this pen bruh
Fuck the makings of a star, I see my next sun/son
But they went twice at the Fiddler's like "They next up"
And they can think they have a chance in Hell...'til they get one
[Round 3: Shox The Rebel]
This round's gonna be a little different
Punch for punch I already proved I can walk with him
What I need you to do is listen close, come walk with me while I talk to him
Jed, your pen is truly lethal
But stupid people don't think I can play my part too/part two like a movie sequel
So this round they're getting bar on top of bar, just to prove we're equal
'Cuz your name hold weight, so I had to calculate how to move ya
I watched many a rapper damn near lose their mind tryin' to chew ya
But they skirted around, so I'm puttin' my rhymes through ya
What good's a 30 centimetre to the side of a ruler?
You know what's afoot/a foot?
You couldn't measure my traction properly
All you do is pick an angle then multi
That's why the gassing never bothered me
Bringing two elements to the table only gets reaction periodically
You follow me? You lack chemistry, it's physically something in your biology
That's why I'm breaking you down to a science
Your career will never go full circle if angles are your reliance
Let's cut to the chase
4th Birthday, you said that Caustic got slapped up
Because he exposed your friend onstage and it got your back up
You said there was no place for that shit in battling - that's kinda mad, bruv
Didn't you get the biggest reaction of your life exposing Raptor?
You fucking hypocrite, I thought you wrote more
How are you still using the name Soul when you sold yours?
You hold more than that in your pen
But it seems your heart ain't letting you back it
He don't walk the walk, he talk, he/walkie-talkie took it too far, now all he getting is static
Made sure punches with added weight were used to ensure that you bodied him
But that's just added weight for you to ensure that your body sinks
I'm writin' him off
What you witness intimidation, just fucking lie in a box
They never thought we'd be clashing, now you're awkwardly catchin' bars
That send scrubs to the hospital in orderly fashion
I told you, when we come together I'm live-r
I make it matter, underground, like a Hadron Collider
Get me with your Ness Lee throwaways, my pad's on fire
It's funny, Training Days got me here - as you mentioned
'Cuz I watched you at Blackout my G, and after a little Snoop Dogg/snoop dog, your pen brought out the crack in me
But you love to read, right?
Well read my lips pussy - you are dead soft
I will fold your corner then when I come back we can pick up where we left off
I came to remove the dude
Fuck going back and forth in a circle like a Hula Hoop
Every one of your lines on a block twisted like a Rubic's Cube
You stand there and talk about my life underhanded
'Cuz you won't leave your fuckin' house so you don't understand it
Where I'm from, trust and hope is earned
But I know you can't trust a soul in the city when the dope gets burned
I mean friends and enemies switch sides, that's a trope I've learned
It's like soon as they Etch-a-Sketch of a subject, both sides turn
You get the picture
[?] their writing's faster
That's when shit gets violent after
And bullets go in-vest on a low to keep 'em silent partner
It's funny, 'cuz the same cunts who call me fake when they spit rounds
Will be the same ones that holla for flake when they in town
I'm sick of it
I nearly gave up, gripped a razor like BS or one push your disc in the front like a PS4
My mind is raw, but we live different lives
For instance when your dog died, you shed tears slumpin' in your drum
My dog died, I had to shed tears when I was comfortin' his mum
These days you're concerned with getting some head or tail or spitting lines with your boys
I'm more concerned with heads telling tales/tails, it's different sides of the coin
So fuck your crazy shit, and all the personals you spray with, kid
'Cuz like your heroin, it's all in vain/vein if you take a hit
But we C-H different, see you mess with pronunciation to set off your shit
Trouble is we only see that methadone/method own rappers when they let you get off the fix
I'm bored of this shit
See this is for all those who said I couldn't do it
Same ones who didn't believe I could rock with Tony
Then watched me bring fire to an animal to even the odds like Mowgli
They're only as good as they pay you, Jed, still a formidable foe
But I'm hungry, any other rapper want it, be quick on your toes
Or catch what I owed you/O'd U in the middle of Soul
Fuck getting exposed, if he's come with that and you're clapping for it, that's dead
Talk cheese in a trap, I'm snappin' on this rat's neck
Let's get to the facts, Jed
I ain't done half the work, half the battles, half the words, not even half the travel
And I'm still up here making half the battle
It's a fucking par, don, so you get no pardon
Your plan's over, you melt, the title nicked
Soon as you get to the pen you've gotta hand over your belt
That's standard procedure
So judge me for my crimes, but whose name is more deserving than mine
Soon as the bars were locked, the key to your freedom was realized
And you've just been serving your...time
[Round 3: Soul]
Yo, my third round closer [meant to say second], I didn't want you to show me less love
I just don't think you got what I was tryin' to say at the end, bruv
I said "They went twice at the Fiddler's like they next up
And they can think they have a chance in Hell, 'til they get one"
So welcome
Don't mind the hounds at the gates
Ignore the mounds of remains and towers of flames
The pitch smoke, brimstone comin' out of the lake
And the sulphur shrouding your face
You come around to the taste
You hear the howls of pain from the damned, bound and restrained
Now being flayed
The sound that it makes
So loud that it makes the ground start to shake
He's now in a quake, falls down through the plates
Comes out in a cave, and all he thinks now is to pray
Opens his eyes and he's surrounded by grey
Looks down, it's the same
Shook as hell, couldn't tell if he was pushed out or escaped
Nobody around him, no body around him, no form, power or shape
Just doubts and mistakes echoing round and round in his brain
And how it would change if he was just down here again
All the hours he'd waste and how at your age a crown or a chain was his proudest of aims
He can't breathe, he's drowning in shame
He's now gone insane and can't tell if he's been here ten seconds or thousands of days
See Hell's what he put himself through when he accepted this
Tweetin' all day about how tough his preppin' is
Stressin' over everything, overquestion his penmanship
Purgatory's when it clicks, he's 36 and all he has left is this
My left hand pushed him there, my right hand let him live
The echo is regret, he neglected shit just to prep for this
Takin' bricks to sell or ket to sniff on the ends and if
At the end he quits, that's why I sent him to Heaven is [?]
Now do you get it, it's literally groundbreaking
I'm not your Soul, son, I'm your sin and your salvation
Spent all this time thinkin' bout how our pens shape up
This ain't a pen vers' a pen, it's a pen vers' a paintbrush
Straight up
Fuck the scene, man to man, judges please
Mid-thirties, mid-twenties, how are you looking up to me?
And how have you become this weak?
Went to Sheffield to bar out, seen Theo and his boys, well he started taking bars out
And I ain't blamin' that on the scene, he ain't gotta front to his fans
I oughta come at his fam, ain't brought him up like a man
He thought he'd duck from the scrap then thought he'd won in this clash
Got too much bone in his head and not enough in his back
But I ain't sayin' that you're weak, just that you aren't well-rounded
If when you beefin' when you speakin' like you spark men out
And then you ended up onstage doing bars then poutin'
Guess that's why he called the Rebel - the Ars/arse fell out him
Shit I'm like Pesci in Casino, you beat me with your hands - cool, I'll come back with a knife
If I end up with a stab wound, I'll come back with a gun
If he the first to let a strap shoot, I'll come back with black watch / SWAT and a tank, too
That's a metaphor, just to let you know I ain't the type of chap who
You'll hear in interviews saying "They stripped me of my manhood"
Well you could beat me the fuck up in a fight, Shox, that's true
The difference is, you stick it on my toes, you would have to
But if he keeps chasing titles, then he'll stay in Hell
But I'll too petty for mercy, I'ma retain as well
You think I'll let this bandwagon-jumpin', style bitin', middle-aged, obsessed fanboy faggot dweeb take the belt?
Then I got two words for you, Shox
[FANS: Behave yourself!]
Nah, you're champ, that's what you wanted here, right? Poor lad
Win or lose bruv I hope you listen to this verse back
And gain some perspective on battle rap before it's too late to turn back
'Cuz this title means nothing, and you don't even deserve that