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letra de bubble bass vs anton ego - discord rap battles

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discount rap battles
anton ego
vs
bubble bass

[verse 1: bubble bass]
i’ve heard you write a mean opinion piece
your fragile little stomach couldn’t handle what i eat
i like patties on a raft, with some light axle grease
and yo mama who came and gave a shimmy and a squeeze
jeez, how ironic, food reviewer’s what i’m chewing
with this double triple bl!cky, call that rat-tat-tat-tat-touille
i know you hate to follow trends so this will get real awkward when
you’re topped again and for the second time you drop your pen

[verse 2: anton ego]
“i’m let down. with a show that’s so absurdist, i’d assume you’d serve a dish with an ounce of subvеrsiveness. already turning tablеs, with a simple fact, you’re flummoxed.”
i don’t like rapping, sea cretin… i love it
your comeuppance is like the fine print: priceless
cannot swallow your pride, now i’ll be serving fried fish
with a touch of rice and some spice as a side dish
pick on rubbish line cooks, when you bear their likeness
critiques are meek indeed – weightless, despite obesity
when only eating trash and then lying through your t–th
you’re the lowest of the bottom feeders, and what i’m surmising:
i expect your second verse to be worse, so surprise me!
[verse 3: bubble bass]
you flipped a switch so quick, yeah, you’re one to talk dude
(-sharp inhale-) i won’t be body-shamed by nosferatu
thanks for all the scathing notes but keep on waiting patiently
you think you take a cake, but i’m the whole dee bradley bakery
you’re angsty and angry and pasty and emo
i think you got some envy ’cause you look green like it’s seafoam
your place isn’t next to me, it’s next to boyardee, bro
acting high and mighty when you only feed your ego
i burn ’em, make ’em cry, on my every whim
spit is not the only take you should be keeping in
i’m an angry nerd, and i’m an honest cynic
and i’ll slap ya ’till you’re flashing back – (heh heh!) nostalgia critic
i grace you with my presence, now my day’s spent
if i knew it’d be this lame, i would’ve stayed in momma’s bas-m-nt
maybe quit your talking, i know you don’t work often
but you’re making this job easy when you live inside a coffin

[verse 4: anton ego]
finally closing, are you? that’s not a shocking topic
with the running that your mouth did, of course you’d be exhausted
you’re talking back and getting smart, but still forgot the bars?
with that physique, who between us needs a change of heart?
you fraud your way to free food and it leaves me almost stunned
are there good lines, somewhere underneath your tongue?
my position has been reaffirmed, not everyone can dish up words
you want pickles ’cause you’d like to spit with this much vinegar
if you would ever earn a star then i’d come and correct it
positively pitiful from each and all perspectives
you’re small fry, tiny, and if it’s put to words?
we served you here, sir: battered nerd

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