[Round 1: Swave Sevah]
Yo, paint this picture: his face, my palm
After I swing with all the strength in my right arm
He'll start bitching up, running, prove he a wannabe
I'll hit him up, son him, send him to the store for me
Go get a dutch and something to munch on
Nah, forget that; can't put food on the list
He'll probably eat it before he get back; he fat!
Sleep apnea n***a losing breath in his sleep
Sloppy slob, grease stains, food left in his teeth
I took him to Dairy Queen to satisfy his fetish for sweets
I ordered a sundae, he ordered the rest of the week!
Then I watched Syd battles, and in every one is the same shit
Some overconfident yelling, wordplay, and some name flips
He uses his size to intimidate, along with some aggression
But I don't see you as a rapper; I think you chose the wrong profession
Don't waste no more money on studio sessions
I got a list of suggestions of careers you can progress in
How 'bout a bodyguard? A food tester?
You could select all kind of things
Like, how 'bout a stunt double for that black n***a from Hot Tub Time Machine?
I mean, what do you see him as?
Should he be kicking hype frees and spittin' verses after all?
Or should he be checkin' IDs and conducting searches at the door?
Be a bouncer, my n***a; I mean, think about it
You ain't gotta do research, you ain't gotta rehearse
You could just stand in the front in one of them tight-ass black T-shirts!
[Round 1: Syd Vicious]
We good?
All right, we’re ready for lyricism now
I'm 'bout to demonstrate 68 different ways to injure Swave
Make him disengage when his face gets engraved with spinning blades
If he misbehaves, I'm spitting 'Ks to split his brains
Catch him while he's getting blazed in that little gay ninja cave
And start blastin' off heat
Put a batch of small leaks through his fucking Dragon Ball Z basketball tee!
You can't rap at all, B!
You're boring and weak!
When you rap, all I can think about is snoring and sleep
You can catch me in Miami with a whore in the streets
Or, better yet, on the Internet ignoring your tweets!
I skip the pay-straight-buy of this gay fake guy
'Cause watching him rap is watching beige paint dry!
And Swave can't lie; his tae kwon do is awful!
Plus, his 12-gauge double-barrel's bigger than both his nostrils!
This n***a's not a gangsta; he's a geek who thinks Street Fighter 4 is awesome!
N***a knows all the codes for bosses, plus, he's dope with Dhalsim!
This ho is harmless!
Plus, his bars are garbage
He couldn't even make it as a MARTIAL artist!
Regardless, this n***a still think he can touch this
I just hope that your kicks ain't as weak as your punches!
'Cause one fist will knock a n***a teeth through his tonsils
He bleedin' and coughin'; man, I'm thinking he lost it
Beatin' the carcass until he sleepin' unconscious
Or squeezin' the cartridge until my finger's exhausted!
Lunacy, n***a!
[Round 2: Swave Sevah + Kap Kallous]
Kit-Kat, Twix, Butterfingers, Snickers
Sing-Sing, Folsom, Pelican Bay, San Quentin
Hershey, Nestle Crunch, 5th Avenue, Mars
Alcatraz, Attica, Riker's, Oz
Now, y'all like, "Swave buggin' out! That hardly rhymed!"
You right!
I'm just comparing his bars to mine!
See, Syd Vicious is fictitious
Y'all buyin' this B?
Y'all think his lyrics are sick with it?
Y'all lyin' to me!
You perpetrate, your team actors; who you tryin' to be!?
I heard you say you eat rappers, somehow that I believe
But I'm a different breed of rapper type
Better control that appetite
'Cause the moment you have a bite, you going straight to your afterlife!
We could do this, lyrically, physically, bars or bangers
From 16s to 16, one in the chamber
Listen, I don’t wanna hear this big n***a rap nothin’
And y’all giving him his own division was bad judgment
Florida versus Georgia!? Seriously! Kap crushed him!
And somehow the audio mysteriously malfunctioned?
Kap, I know he your friend
But let’s read between the lines, my n***a…it was HIM!
You know something I don’t?
[Round 2: Syd Vicious]
All right
Now everybody here gon’ believe that Swave be clappin’ them hammers
And the mixtape, that video malfunction shit was hot when G said it in Atlanta
Now, hold it
Watching G Souldier’s battle against Deacon Frost was like watching your mother die from a stroke in slow-motion
YOU FUCKING OVERRATED FUCKING FAGGOT!
Yo, I’m a real n***a, so I wouldn’t stand here and tell a boldfaced lie
But when you Google “Swave Sevah”, the results say…”Why?”
Yo, so, Kap, how you gon’ put a Mac against a Civic
When his frame folded from the impact of a collision?
Wait, if you flipping keys with him, you better make a tactical decision
Or run and get your gats and ammunition
‘Cause if them D’s get him, this n***a finna crack and get to snitchin’
You better hide your cheese when them rats is in the kitchen!
And that skeeze with him? That bitch got a vaginal condition!
And when that faggot goes to sniffin’ [sniffs]
Got a crabbish odor in it
Like a bag your clothes have been in…after going fishin’!
This bastard know he trippin’!
Swave Sevah is horrid!
How he Unsigned Hype when he incredibly boring!?
This n***a’s not even top-tier, but he swear he the hardest
Well, the buck stops here; you’re embarrassing Harlem!
Bitch n***a, you ain’t touchin’ or matchin’ to my shine
It sounds like I’m bucking a ratchet when I rhyme
Take a blade, start cuttin’ your back to divide spine
Motherfucker, you the ugliest rapper in Grind Time!
Hold on!
N***a- hold on!
N***a, I came here to see Ness vers’ Iron Solomon, Maniphest vers’ DoubleDeuce, Madness vers’ Soul Khan
You were just an excuse!
And the truth, I was with his bitch last night
That ho could deep-throat a leaf blower!
This faggot gettin’ his hair re-braided at G Souldier’s sleepover!

[Round 3: Swave Sevah]
All right, listen
This question is for all direct in that area [points behind him]
[points to Syd] I’ll get back to you in a minute
Where the fuck does Syd come from?
How the fuck is he relevant?
What dues have you paid that made y’all make him a President?
Don’t tell me y’all did- got somethin’ intimidating, y’all did it for fights
‘Cause, Drect, you ain’t no l’il n***a
Madd Illz, you kickin’ n***as off bikes
I mean, look, it’s can’t be his rhymes
‘Cause all he got is GrindTime battles, and a few of those he sucked in
What is it, his size?
You mean to tell me that the two of y’all couldn’t jump him!?
He just a big-ass country bumpkin hailin’ from the Land of the Peach
And this the n***a that y’all made Georgia’s Commander-in-Chief?
I got y’all back! Just hand him to me
See, I demand a recount! It’s about time this man get impeached!
Cabinet breach
Your bitch ass get hit fast
Quick jab, dip grab
Flip, stab, kick, slash
Feel somethin’ cold pressed against abs
Quick flash, big blast…I’m twistin’ your wig back!
See, I came to put an end to this riff-raff
Walk with caution, or be chalked up as an unfortunate mishap
Doubt you’ll survive, but if you do, get used to that shit bag
And know I always finish what I started, so expect to get kidnapped!
Bitch-slap, ribs snap
He screamin’ in agony!
Meat-hook him and hang him up like a slab of beef
Series of combos, test my speed and strength on his body
Man, it look like I’m re-enactin’ the freezer scene out of Rocky!
Punch-drunk, I do this type of shit for fun
After this, I’mma drag him down, stand him up on his front door, ring his bell, and run!

[Round 3: Syd Vicious + Swave Sevah]
Hold on, I got something to say
Yo, holdonholdonholdon!
Man, this n***a had the nerve to ask for 90-second rounds
Prepared 60-second bars, and slowed them motherfuckers down
Hold on, hold on
Hold on
Swave is older than a Pagan sculpture from an ancient culture!
Bitches hate and roast ya ‘cause your face is grosser than Ray Liotta’s!
And your house has the stankin’ odor of an Asian grocer!
And your mouth smells like eggs and sulfur; you need baking soda!
The game is over for this blatant poser, fakin’ Souldier
You ain’t slanging doja or banging toasters from hanging holsters!
N***a, stop!
You ain’t flippin’ rocks out them kitchen pots!
Get the cops!
Bitch was in prison not for pickin’ locks!
But if this n***a talk like Big and ‘Pac, I’ll get the Glock
Run up, hit his crib, and watch as him and Pops be kickin’ box
Aim and cock it
Hit Swavey Crockett with 80 rockets, take his wallet
Makin’ profit like Spacely Sprocket’s bank deposits!
N***a, my game is polished!
Famous scholar, get your fame demolished with Jason bombin’ like Halley’s Comet!
What Swave be rhymin’ is so dishonest, it make me vomit
So I wave the Llama like it’s a flag and I’m patriotic!
Bitch n***a, I battled Heartless!
N***a, Surgeon General, Soul Khan, Kap motherfucking Kallous
G Souldier; n***a, fucking Yung Z.M., Ness Lee; all of them in an actual motherfucking challenge!
N***a, hold on. This n***a battled fucking…n***a, who..fucking?
(Chuck Black!)
N***a, Chuck Black, n***a!?
First battle!
That was my first battle, though!
N***a, my first battle was Heartless!
Chuck Black!? Some n***a named Imaredo!?
Medina and Fredo were nice, but I’m ON ANOTHER LEVEL?!
My n***a Collide caught a body; this pussy n***a drove home
Cryin’ ‘bout how he got robbed in the Ozone
He can’t control his hormones, and he don’t hold no chrome
So fuck a Team Homi! CALL HIM TEAM HOMO!