[Round 1: Marlo]
Yo Brixton
Before I start rapping I need your help with something
I had an opening to this battle but I scrapped it ‘cause it was bollocks
I’d much rather you all just get seamlessly transported to about 30 seconds into my round so you can start hearing some bars
So in about 15 seconds’ time I’m gonna say ‘make some noise for that punchline’
At which point I’m gonna need you all to react as if I just dropped a certified lower-middle-tier-quality punchline
To a stretched-out, 16 bar angle about Pedro with the setup ‘my raps are more dark’
And we’ll literally just take it from there, cool?
So, and can I just say I have absolutely ripped this off from the comedian Stewart Lee, so if it doesn’t work, take it up with him
Brixton, make some noise for that punchline
That happened mate, and that’s why you can never go back to Thorpe Park
I’ll slap this dork hard, you know like an actual dwarf, halved
I’m not white and from Hampshire, I’m black from Chalk Farm
And I’ll punch you with Josh Wall’s massive forearm
Alright, first thing’s first Pedro, I gave you a lift back from Leeds and you sat in the back
Thank you for not stealing anything, from my car
It’s not a secret, right, Pedro’s got a reputation right: thievery
So after I dropped him off I was sweating for my life
Got home, reversed the Fiesta in the drive
Checking to the left, checking to the right
Checking under seats, checking to the side
Oh, everything is fine
I am, pleasantly surprised
Only reason you try to get girlfriends is to steal their wallets or their car keys
You be pinching shit off of bae like you’re Somali
Water plant seeds, quarter past three, raw salami
Paul McCartney, Napoli Sarri, Falkland army
Fucking Tory party, Laura Tarsi
You have a framed picture of a homemade zoot
You pretend to work in B&Q in a Homebase suit
When you’re up in Manny you sleep in Cojay’s boot
You babysit for Big J and his missus and they don’t pay you
Your mum is a roadman
I’m actually genuinely terrified of the concept of Pedro’s mum
Seems like you’d go ‘round their house and get shot in the leg for fun
One time she started telling you how school wasn’t for everyone
While you were at a Texaco feeding your dog with the petrol pump
Luckily your mother loves the bars I spit, in fact
I take her out for picnics in the park and we just chat
I pushed her on a swing until my arms were big and fat
And had her calling out ‘Whoopee!’ like she was casting Sister Act
But we love Pedro right? He truly is legend status
We knew he meant ‘preparation’
Last I heard Umbro is suing for defamation
And Pedro’s slightly risen up, moving smoothly in elevation
Like Arsonal at World Dom improving his levitation
So here’s the thing, when you come at the Mountain how the fuck do you clown him?
Trust me, I don’t expect to win the way his punches are counting
I only took this battle, because Pedro still owes me 1 pound 34 for petrol
And in real life I’m too scared to confront him about it
But since we’re here, come on, cough it up you little fucking pipsqueak pay
Dig deep mate, I got the receipt, my fiesta tanked at 16.08
It was me, you, Rowan and Shuffle in the car, and somehow the petrol got split three ways
Which means we paid 5 pound 36 each when it should’ve been 4.02, real shit
Marlo nine month old over-thought debt collection and maths calculations, something you gotta deal with
You owe me, Rowan and Shuffle each the difference of 1 pound 34 and we ain’t gonna yield bitch
I did not write this bit to a punchline, here’s a red banana, peel it
Don’t eat it, it’s got all kinda color shit on it
So, you said P Solja’s mum will get punched in her son’s lip, that was both deep and true
Because, in a way, when the babe aches, doth not the bosom from which it suckle feel too?
Fin

[Round 1: Pedro]
My bars are as real as a red banana
My bars are as real as a blue banana
My bars are as real as a white banana
My bars are just right, like a right banana
I can tell by your hair you don’t like the barber
You need to go and visit a styling parlor
It looks like you got your hair cut by a pikey farmer
Your mum’s got pussy hair like Akala
How can I predict that he’s gonna bring a red banana, that’s how you know I’m fucked yeah
Your mum and your sister have a sun-stroked fanny
They both shot pussy out of a unknown alley
Both of their knickers look like blood-soaked nappies
He come here wearing his mum’s Umbro trackies
I wrap fat blunts of skunk, ya’ grandmum’s a cunt
Your favourite song is “Slam Dunk (Da Funk)”
Shank to the gut give you cramp from the lung
Jump in jack get jacked from the jump
I rep for my bruddas in the west of Harlem
I speak for my cousins up in central Gardens
I talk for the nutters in the pen for arson
I got a voice for everyone, blud I’m Seth MacFarlane
Marlo looks like a high school teacher
I couldn’t give a monkey’s like a tight zookeeper
I hold two sticks like a Thai food eater
You caught as many bodies as Typhoon Peter, which don’t exist
I trap him in the Batcave, slap him in his dad’s face
Jack him for his chain like Illmaculate and Pat Stay
They’ll need to strap him in a back brace, drive a taxi in a drag race
He can’t wait to go home and start battling his flatmates
But Shufflo two-on-two’s are breaking up their friendship
They used to love each other and make each other breakfast
But now they practice so much it makes them argue all the time
So when Shuffle gets married you won’t make it on the guest list
And that’s the reason they don’t really tag-team anymore
Your girlfriend looks like a drag queen Demi Moore
Your mum looks like a crack fiend Skeletor
You got rusty steel like a antique weapons store
You went on a Backstreet Nelly tour, with your boyfriend
If I smashed him any more he’d ring the boydem
Snitch to the feds you’d be finger-pointing
Your bars up to now have been disappointing
But I will say they’re usually quite cleverly written
So it doesn’t suit you when you start aggressively spitting
Your entourage is comedy like Jeremy Piven
You’re the nicest guy I’ve ever had the pleasure of killing
You’re like a barn owl that can’t howl
I’ll kick your Marge out of your aunt’s house
Your father out of the farmhouse then Marlo will get marked out
You’re like Count Dracula if he come from South Africa
Or a mouse-capturer who lives on Mount Bachelor
I’m a mouth-fracturer, rapping circle around rappers I’m out-rapping ya’
You’re about as exciting as biography about Saskilla
There’s nothing more worse than your Tricky P battle
I get more views than the Philippine channel
Your wifey looks like a [?] hooker
You should kill your wife off like Jimmy “‘fly” Snuka

[Round 2: Marlo]
So last week I had a wax buildup in my ear
Sorry ladies, I’m taken
What did Pedro say to the girl when she asked him to watch her purse?
‘Sorry lady, I’m taking’
By this account, your life is to scrounge, it’s improper
I don’t even smoke and I get pissed off by this cig robber
Still the beggy type at 25, he just runs his gob till he gets some shit off ya’
You gotta slip him a quid so he shuts up, that’s a gym locker
It’s Marlo, Kid Posher
I fly out to the Bronx to use Rich Dolarz dishwasher
On my gap year, I lipsed on a witch doctor kickboxer in Tonga
Pedro, I constantly feel like you’ll possibly stab me
Even at times when you’re obviously happy
When I was traveling in Nepal I took a stroll in the back streets
And I swear you came up to me and sold me some hashish
You’ll punch me on your block while you’re hollering ‘yolo’
My boy’ll go squealing to the cops with a photo
Then we’ll both fuck you up, with a warrant from po-po
Finish him Shuffle- fuck, I forgot it was solo
You said you’d give Enigma the strap, it was a fucking horrible and abusive scheme
I know it was only a threat, but you obtaining a firearm is something possible that I do believe you’d achieve
So if you do get a gun, can you be somewhat honorable and not shoot at me?
I don’t want the strap: fussy toddler on a booster seat
So let me get this straight: it’s 2013, you have no fans, and for some reason they let you go out to King of the Dot
Except you have to front your own flights, at a ridiculous cost
And then you get there, and you hear something that pisses you off
Pedro, what day of the event, did you think you were on?
‘Cause I heard it through the grapevine you thought you’d be with the main guys
Day one, straight up, phased like ‘I thought Ground Zero was a place where planes fly’
Going up to King Fly like ‘Ain’t I on after Daylyt?’
He’s like ‘who are you?’, you’re like ‘Pedro’, he’s like ‘oh Pedro yeah, you’re on uh, page nine
Day five’ ‘Oh, safe, right’
I love the idea that for some reason you still bloody expected more
Like ‘hmm, maybe the reason I’m not on the flyer’s that, they wanna surprise the fans ‘cause they must just respect me more’
It’s like you knew you were a ballboy at Wimbledon, but still turned up in your tennis shorts
Expecting them to be like ‘yeah change of plan mate, you’re playing Murray on centre court’
You got that, ‘I was gonna go to class, but then I’ took too much mandy swagger
That legally unqualified to be a baggage handler at Gatwick swagger
That ‘isn’t it really cringey when Marlo says swagger’ swagger
Chavvy swagger, he’ll stab your nana for a can of Fanta
And still sell her drugs, and then happy-slap her
And then try to save her, he’ll straight Danny Jaqq her
You remind me of James Bay, if he wasn’t a soulful poetic folk singer with long hair, but actually a short, unemployed, drug-dependent battle rapper
Fucking time
[Round 2: Pedro]
You wank off to battles from Grizzlemania
Your mum’s a prostitute from Lithuania
Marlo’s mum’s into nymphomania
She’s sucked off most the man that are in Romania
You got mentioned by Chilla in his battle with Pass
You got demons in your closet you should battle your past
I’m past battling for a battling pass
In my past battles I was battling pars
I be at Southport Crown Court
You be at Southport town hall
I’m a Southport outlaw, here to show mandem about your downfall
Leave you spitting out a mouthful of teeth and blood
Catch me in spots suck your teeth in blud
Run up in the hospital start teething blood
Leave you crying like a baby when it’s teething blud
I told his mum I’m not coming ‘dere but if I come in ‘dere I’ma cum in ‘dere
She opened the door in her underwear with a zoot in her mouth like ‘come in dear’
I commandeer a common dear while you cum in deer
They come and dare me to come in ‘dere, I’ll cum in ‘dere
Look closely at his shirt he’s got cum on ‘dere
And if he saw a dick now he’d start coming, ‘dere
I’ll make you look unprepared although you’re over-prepped
Why do you always look like you overslept?
Marlo’s hype is blatantly over-repped
And the margin that you’re standing in you overstepped
In our interview I said that he prayed to Malcolm
The gay battle rapper, mate I found him
I watch my mates surround him ‘cause he ain’t never got mates around him
You’re more disappointing than Dre’s new album
Ay blud, Shufflo ain’t as old school as Pam and Ped
You got a pen and pad I got a pan and Ped
You’d probably get kidnapped by Bam and Fred
The east tends to beef like Pat and Peg
You got bisexual biceps, you buy sex from a bike shed
You and your chick have a identical sized chest, and wear an identical white vest
Watch tonight end in a fright fest
You go to grime festivals with bisexuals your girl left my testicles bright red
So rest in peace to half of Shufflo
Your girl used to play for Spartak Moscow
I should be getting free garms from Umbro
You be following chicks tryna start a convo
You made a micro memory card in your biochemistry class
You need to go to psychotherapy fast
Your life’ll cryogenically pass in suspended animation
If your biochemistry class don’t attend your graduation
Time, fuck it

[Round 3: Marlo]
You put up a shocking Facebook status recently, that really could do repeating
‘Like this if you’re a prolific young offender’, Pedro, you are a ridiculous human being
I wasn’t shocked that you tried to brag about that, that’s some shit that we’re used to seeing
I just couldn’t believe you used the word ‘prolific’ and knew the meaning
I swear to God, on my family’s life this next story is a hundred percent absolutely true
Pedro comes up to me at an event like ‘Marlo blud, you’re gonna laugh at this one ting’
Gets out his passport that they’d asked for at the bar when he come in
‘I got some next real name’ he said, laughing and jumping
‘Check it out, my real name is like, Felani or like, Fezani or some shit’
Or some shit?
Or some shit?
Pedro doesn’t even know his own name
No wonder he’s such a fuck-up, imagine how hard the actual process of hunting for a job is
Walks into the JCP like ‘yeah, I’m looking for like, something in an office’
They’re like ‘great, just gotta fill in a couple of these boxes
Name?’ ‘Oh yeah it’s like, a funny story I had this like, name’- I’m a fucking cunt and I forgot it
So what you laughing for, half past four, they were gonna give him a job at Cards Galore
But he put ‘Pedro’, as his first name, surname and birthday on the starter form
How do you not know your own name?
I mean you could have, psychotraumatic amnesia where the memory goes wrong
Gradual neuroanatomical decay as dementia is coaxed on
Brain damage, metal in ya’ head like a robot
But the punchline is still, you’re just Pedro from Don’t Flop
Pedro lives such an incredible existence, genuinely true facts or observations about him sound like a Pedro freestyle he’d be dropping as a bar
For example, check this, all Pedro facts, all facts
Yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
You be ripping man’s shirts to see their bodies and their arms
You get banned from battle leagues ‘cause you be robbing women dog
You use your parents’ house as an [?] for your plants
And your mum’s a happy lady ‘cause you’re shotting her at half
You look yourself in the mirror and say ‘I wash you in the bath’
You go to pen for misinterpreting the politics of art
A Welsh stripper does all of your shopping for your garms
And Big J delivers you McDonald’s to your yard
All facts, I wanna take you all back
To junior school, to primary days
Remember year six sats, they might be my fave
‘Cause even if you weren’t exactly bright they would say
You got 10 percent of your mark just by writing your na-
Ohh
Look, when you freestyle it’s amazing Ped, it’s always funny
And it’s what the crowd want, I know when it comes to multisyllables you’re a junkie
So look, I’m calling time now but hey, Pedro’s rhyming challenge, to start off this next round right now rhyme with, ‘performing monkey’

[Round 3: Pedro]
Your whore’s a junkie
You look like a awful honky your mother, looks like Pugsley but more like, Dumby
Ah fuck it I fucked it up, alright alright look yeah
You, said, ah I can’t remember now what you said, fuck it
Alright look yeah, ah I wish I had remembered that bar
But anyway, look yeah, oh yo yo, your favorite animal’s a sperm whale
Ayo you feel Dotz like you’re tryna learn Braille
Your girl’s mustache’s got a fucking bird tail, I’ll make you stand barefoot on the third rail
It’s Marlo time, Marlo lives that Ken Barlow life
Your girl’s pussy’s got Donnie Darko’s eyes
He buys cocaine at oregano price
Right, listen yeah
One two three four five, once I caught a fish alive, wait let me get this
Let me get this
Alright right
Yo I’ll put my dick inside your sister’s wife when I spit a rhyme I’ll split this guy
Yo, I 69 with your sister on a fucking winter night
Then I headbutt her 60 times till she cries a fucking, Brazilian rice
Brazilian rice I’m killing this guy a million times, what you gonna say?
I fucking discriminate discriminize and fibonize a habitat with this simple guy
Yo, fuck it, you live the life, of a fucking, a Sister Act
Yo, you is a guy, but you is a dyke, and your sister’s fat
Yo, I got a cricket bat to your mother and I’m in the flat
Yo making supper while I’m piffing crack
Taking your brother for the biggest pack and I raid in your drum wit’ a, wit’ a fucking swinging, silver ax
Yo fuck you, predicting my bar
I run into your yard, with swimming trunks on, and then I start piffing cigars
I covered his stairwell in hair gel and the brer fell
I was like ‘yeah, well?’
My bars are loud like a air bell in a tropical storm
Overhead bars like an obstacle course
I said this before, didn’t I?
Fuck knows, I might of, it’s a bar anyway
It’s a bar anyway, yo, half vodka and half lemonade
I’m full 80 proof vodka with none of it took away
Yo I jook ya’ face, run away on a runway track ‘cause I bun the haze
Yo your mother is underweight, your son is overweight
You don’t even have a son but you look fucking fake
Yo, you need to resuscitate as I suffocate your mother with a pillow under the fucking snowboards and something else
Yo right right right, I’m sort of flopping now
Your mother, is fucking is on the underground bunning brown
And she’s fucking from a Moroccan town where nobody even comes around
He likes to come around my yard, yo, bunning white, Thai, glass
Fucking hell, I come with some nice bars but this bit’s a bit of a flop I be ripping you up
Your sister’s knickers are off, Connor
Yo, your mother, is a fucking nunchucker
Your brother, is a dumb fucker
And he, is a fucking, motherfucker
Fuck it, alright I got three bars left
Yo, you got a retard’s head
Yo, he wears knee guards, in a fucking tree part shed
Or something, let’s go, ay I flopped I couldn’t remember the third but fuck it let’s go