[Round 1: Ness Lee]

Dirtbag Dan got a little butt-hurt

He figured one word could piss me off

A little, but hurts

This is absurd 'cause I know your history chump

You little punk nerd

So when I dig enough dirt

Y'all a be digging up Dirt

You freaking faggot

A jab'll put your teeth in grass so fast we think you had the Easter rabbit's eating habits

But him, he's a savage

Lush, I said I need a challenge

Not a freaking battle with a man that reached Jesus status

How can I be prepared to make this battle even fair?

Look at his evil stare it's like I'm not even here

I take a step, he beat me there 'cause he done leaped a year and-

I ain't even see you there!

You need a chair

Ay Lush, you see this bum he's comfortably 120 comes up to my knees if you put him in front of me son

Funny like what do want from me?

So you want me to jump ugly and run up on Buck Bundy start running his lunch money?

You two foot geek, you ain't thug, what you gon' do to me

The only thing that you will swing is your feet in a booster seat

You'll get Illusion Z'ed into a lucid dream Viewing sheep and moving z's

You would think a cartoon was 'sleep

See him on the net you figure Ill is that dude

Like he's giving kids the business so he's killing that dude

Till you witness him in the flesh with them little-ass shoes

And he's spitting it at you

You thinking 'isn't that cute?'

Little Illy attended a black school and got victimized by the skinniest kid in the classroom

He'd steal your pencils and your passes to the frigging bathroom

Hold 'em this high and you'd be jumping like 'Give 'em back dude!'

I bet you record in a little-ass booth

How tall are you in feet, like a little past two?

Your favorite time of day is like a little past 2:00

You got a short history 'mac, a little past too

So you don't need Ness to say that he's weak and indeed extra gay

It's needless to say that he's sweet in a Gene Kelly way

So please step away before I immediately send you back to your respectful place

The side of T-Rex's face

[Round 1: Illmaculate]

Introducing Ness Lee

He's a new dude on the scene

But he's foolish as hell

He'll respond to every YouTube comment you leave

And doesn't take scrutiny well

Fuck it, you can't fuck with me I'll merc' this cat

We could do it at the venue or in a parking lot

'Cause a real emcee can adjust to any circumstance

So here's how the situation had popped off

He hit me up, I was debating on taking the broad's call

He started complaining about his battle with Frankie like "Ah nah

Nah dog, I won, but the crowd was wack

So I feel in a way that I got robbed"

Well if there's one thing you can say about Greg it's he's got balls

So if I'mma lose

The last thing I'mma do

Is start blaming it on y'all

See I should be battling cats like Math, Mook, Lux, Serius, Arsonal or Solomon

Written, freestyle, funny, street cats

I never been partial to a following

Anybody, anywhere

Put up money, and I'm there

Fuck a battle for free, this cat is bummy, and he's scared

This bitch'll get served, witness this nerd get his confidence smashed

I felt guilty at first, but he wanted this bad

Screaming 'fuck the world,' with his dick in the dirt, while I'm stomping him flat

I try to listen when he's spitting his verse, but he's rocking that hat

What you thought them gimmicks will work?

You shoulda came with a slit in your shirt

Or more props for your act

And I ain't dissing Hollow

He one of the realest dudes to meet me

He don't feel the mood is greazy

So you can go ahead and rhyme your little syllables uniquely

But our battle was proof

You gotta take it to a level that you ain't willing to to beat me

See, his insecurities cut deep

Now I know the wound is open

Since I first accepted this battle the only hope for you's promotion

I can't lose now

And that's the realest quotable that's spoken

'Cause he did this for free, I got a couple Gs

And now we're just going through the motions

Let's make sure this little punk's facts are clear

He'll say I ducked him in New York

I'll end this chump's rap career

I battled Con and Hollow the same day

The Saurus in the Bay

Now I'm ducking Ness Lee?

Get the fuck outta here!

[Round 2: Ness Lee]

I'm from the south

But I'll leave you walking out

What you talking 'bout?

If I'm on such a low level why you call me out?

Matter of fact, I'll smash your moms

You'll have a little brother that became grey

If you battled Con and Hollow in the same day

How come you lost 'do?

That make you lame and gay

If ever thug was your image, it wasn't intended

This junky wouldn't steal prescription drugs from a clinic that's unattended

You inherited this buttocks kicking

It's like I died and gave wifey the house and daughter the car:

I'm giving son the business

You little munchkin midget, snatch you out a Honda Civic

And twist you up in a position that you sitting like Russell Simmons

You better duck or get it when I punch your chin in

Somebody tell sonny listen before he gets Sonny Liston'ed

And I'm violent about something that you always do

You threaten people twice as tall as you

You know karate moves?

If not, Madness and Dizaster woulda bodied you

The Saurus woulda zipped you

The Don woulda hollowed you

So naturally the thing that can't get past me is the fact that he's three and a half feet and tryna act street

Ask me if he packs heat in his pants, please

You put a nine in his slacks he wouldn't be able to bend his damn knees

Picture this action movie, bet you laugh profusely

Imagine little Ratatouille tryna blast the Uzi

It happens to be two or three rappers in this room that'll bring you shattered and bruised dreams and that includes me

I go ham

With both hands you fake clown

And when we slow dance it's no romance just take out

I close-hand him and homes could land facedown

But he so short, we don't know if it's a KO or standing eight-count

Anyway, wasn't you nerdy back in your Scribble days?

'Cause rocking skinny legs before they was a fad is pretty gay

You used to [?] and talk more proper

Rap about your notebook and never support choppers

Now it's "I hate cops! X and Bacardi!

Wait till my album drop, sex at the party!"

He has no Glocks, TEC's, his own 40s

I can look at you and tell your arms are short

But not just on your body

[Round 2: Illmaculate]

Here's how you can tell he ain't iller than me

'Cause if he the sicker emcee

How come you can tell the difference between

His written and frees?

I will body you

Peep game

I popped to Ness Lee's dame

Left her sheets stained

She did me like Krang without the bodysuit

I mean brain

But I ain't force her the whore was a cheap date

She ordered a beefsteak

I told her we wasn't leaving till she polished the fork and the clean plate

The bitch ain't wanna finish, but

I forced her: then she paid

See your recordings are poorer than me

And your formula's cliché

My schemes are cleaner your shit is horrible

And even in Portland you'd seem strange

Your choruses are boring and seem lame

He in his fuckstick home booth using his unmixed vocals for torturing T-Pain

But I see the bitch in the blood that's coursing in Lee's veins

I'm using you to get money

'Cause they swore that I'd be paid

You homeless, so you only using me to get money

'Cause I'm bored and you need change

I'm ignoring this pea-brain

But afford me a brief favor

Your recordings are plain

But according to his name

Whoever thought that he'd need flavor?

Of course, it's sort of the thang

Like calling a big guy 'Tiny' or a tortoise 'The Speed Racer'

See I'm scoring like D Wade but I'm not a sportsman or team player

You're corny but seem brave and that's unfortunate behavior

He said "Shorty dies!"

Ving Rhames met the coroner weeks later

I breathe hate

This dead man ain't seen flames till the Bay gave his corpse to the cremator

[Round 3: Ness Lee]

I know you threatened a lot of rappers

It's time you get sent to the ER

I got a challenge for you

You accept it to be hard

I dare you not to settle for setups that's retard

And make us miss your punchlines 'cause you stretch 'em for three bars

I'm the rap general slash veteran

Who gets mad cheddar to smash records

And your crew knew you a rat 'cause you run your mouth

And run around the mousetrap

Till you get smacked dead in your fat head with a broom

Screw whatever happened

Past present or soon

How many battles Ill won

Like that's relevant 'ooooh'

That was back then dog

Subtract legend from truth

And this cat's destined to lose

'Cause I rap better than you

I told 'em "I'm a fan, dog

In battles you're a beast

But you do damage on a beat

When's your album out? I need one"

He reached into his baggie like "There's actually a fee but you can have this one for free, son"

Can I get a refund?

I'd put your album against you to bag me some bitches

But for that to happen I'd have to give it an actual listen

And you don't have to be a mathematician or master addition

To tell this cat's the president of the wackest division

You said your entire top tier is locked up

As far as I know, the only one in jail is Onlyone

So how many rappers in your top tier, only one?

And how many battles has Only won, only one?

Last time I heard, that's not something to brag about

Wack-rhyming nerd gets locked up and y'all gangsta now?

That's why you prefer to send 9DM to only battle, wow

Your top tier, ain't around

We all agree, you happy now?

And what's with that dumb video?

The lyrics son's spitting plus image is something silly fo'

Homes, arms folded, slang all wrong like "What's really 'do?"

Nerdy entourage all [?] like "Come get me bro!"

Woah

You said "I'll ply out your fingernails

And sneak up behind you

And knife you like splinter cells"

Well, what he shoulda said is "My life is a living hell, my wifey is really pale and I've never been to jail"

Your wife's a midget, but I might hit it

Catch her at the club like "I hope you got a big trunk, 'cause I'm putting my bike in it"

What's most funny is you

Talking 'bout chrome twos busting

And you holding your own to punching

As you, would need a whole crew to rush me

You was probably homeschooled and you're the size of toadstools cousin

'Cause if I ran up on you

With intentions to fold you it's nothing

I'd crush you and say I owned you in public

I can sit here and tell you that you won't do nothing

What makes it so funny is you won't do nothing

And I don't need to wave a damn eagle, that fake fag

My hand'll meet you, and melt Sandpeople to stained glass

I run up on your crew like "What a do, goof troops?"

And plant a foot in you until my muddy shoes grew roots

The kickback from a 22'll ruin dude

And you got the nerve to ask what's goody two-shoes: you!

So I gotta ask you

Are you absentminded, 'cause you lost weight, respect and a whole lot of battles

You might agree the irony's enormous son

Your record's four and one

And you're four foot one

He was grieving his losses and took Conceited's the hardest

But you couldn't read him retarded 'cause you need a The Saurus

By the way, I peeped that battle last week

You mighta won, but damn

Pete coulda spit his to a damn beach

The facts be you sound more weak written

You proved white men can't jump, or keep rhythm

Before that battle people like "You fell off and you garbage dog"

But I'm like "He's four feet tall, he ain't have that far to fall"

Then that cat piggybacked you

Two championships in fact

But the snitching act in y'all's battle ended that

So yeah, y'all know the story 'bout the midget on a giant's shoulder?

I tried to told ya' tiny soldier, but the ride is over

[Round 3: Illmaculate]

Here's how you can tell Ness Lee's [?]

The police coming!

But at least we don't have to hear a free from 'em

I'll murder this bitch

Clearly I hope that you crash when it's said and done on your flight tomorrow

'Cause every verse that he spit, was merely the opening act for every one of mine that followed

I know that you praying I wrote reverses but player I own the circuit

And I ain't battling Ness

I'm battling the bitch that's laying below the surface

The same one on the forums complaining, I know he's nervous

He hates it, it pains him

Everyone's saying he don't deserve this

Well, just accepting this battle it's like I set the mousetrap

Soon as Ness pokes his head around, snap!

Motherfucker make a threat about that

This jealous clown's mad

Mad that I'll pass him

Speeding in the slow lane

Put him in his casket

Leave him in his own grave

Everyone's asking why I'm beefing with a no-name

They said he's good at rapping so I beat him at his own game

See for him, nothing's achievable

This motherfucker is regional

But last battle, ask him

He was chucking the heater too: right?

Honestly it was uncomfortable seeing you

Acting like you was tucking the cannon

Bucking and blamming

I understand adjusting for the fans

But something you need to do

Is at least make it fucking believable

This cheap dead beat don't know what street cred means

Think I can't beat Ness Lee

Test my reflex speed

If he a NES, then I'm a PS3

Think you the coldest on the scene or the dopest with the schemes

If you the franchise player I'm the owner of the team

The moment that I stepped in

Your life's threatened in five seconds

My knife's rusty, so try and rush me I side step 'em

This guy's ugly, the only [?] I'll mention

Is you look like a bootsy, Fugee

We just gonna call you Wyclef.....chin

And I know you causing your label some grief

Hitting Wyclef up, banging your keys

Begging him "Please, make me some beats!"

Which also explains why his latest release was for Haiti relief

I'm just gon' say what everybody's been thinking the whole night

Like "When personalized hats go wrong"

But wait, when do they go right?

I been told that I'm fresher and I'm sicker on tracks

Now watch him fold under pressure like the brim of his cap

He wasn't concerned with his image, in fact

He didn't care that his fit didn't match

He was more concerned with how many tips he could fit in his hat

If your bitch says she loyal, then she lying

I was whipping with her, switched lanes, speed by him

Seat back, reclining

Getting road head: while she's driving

But I'll be honest with him

Getting hype is what they know me for

This is where Hollow would ask God to forgive him

Man I might be going overboard

Fuck it, now it's bodybags 'cause I gotta spazz

But this is common knowledge had

You heard one of the songs you has

He had baby-mama drama

After a year, found out he was not the dad

Funny, 'cause now I'm sonning you

Kinda like the kid that you thought you had