This is a battle verse he spit just last year that he could of used for Dizaster.
Not many people heard this track, and he already had it memorized
![blink :blink: :blink:](https://www.thecoli.com/styles/default/xenforo/smilies/blink.gif)
if he slowed it down and improvised dizasters name with an old verse like this he would have
I'm tryna figure out, who this nikka barking at
Before his heart gets snatched, run up on him in a stocking cap
Keep barking like you hard, get stalked and clapped
Come in the cage you get stomped on the mat
Carve your name in the axe, then chop you in the back
Hack off your femur bones, beat you with them like bats
Put your remains in some saran wrap, dump them in an alcohol vat
You can rap but you ain't all that
Step inside, close the door, fukk you yawning for?
Kick your head off, now it's rolling on the floor like a bowling ball
Open the door, clean this fukking mess off my wall
And don't ever mention his name no more
You dig, you follow me nikka, I follow you quicker
You got a weak ticker, told you not to fukk with the Ripper
Have you showing your true colours, drinking blood from ya liver
You a dikkrider and you an Indian giver
Waging war with some gorillas, I'll bludgeon you by the river
The bar range is pissing he gon find you while you fishing
Fistula face, herpes simplex I'll break
Alienated aliens get ate by alien apes
You food nikka, throw yourself over the gate
How does alien taste? Like mammalian waste
You ain't swift you's a dumb fukk
I'll have you breathing like your lungs got struck by two-hundred pound nunchucks
Brave motherfukkers get slayed for Hip Hop if you love it
Like Kill Bill between a hundred gay lovers
I'm the illest nikka say something...
Yeah I thought so, shut the fukk up things will go back to normal
I ain't happy tho, now I'm in battle mode
The president of Hip Hop with mad motherfukkers on the grassy knoll
I take it back to my Curriculum days
What you say? I body you in meticulous ways
Cos you thought I was a donut, you tried to glaze
Let me tell you something, don't pop shyt fistula face
Battle league nikka, talking shyt's for amateurs nikka
Goddammit, y'all living off fantasies nikka
You wanna battle that bad, aight go get your camera
When it's my turn, I got a four and a half pound answer
When I was young, I took down hard targets
You a sausage nikka, for coming at me like a novice
You never heard 'Fraternity of the Impoverished'?
Motherfukker, can't you see that I'm an artist
I don't want them childish problems
Lyrical manslaughter charges interfere with my Lyrical Law process
Out rap me, that's preposterous, metaphor marksman mudswamping
We hunt down Hip Hop monsters
Skin 'em alive tie their carcass to the bottom of my Polaris
And drive them all the way to Wisconsin
Partner, fukk around, throw your ass under the bus face down
Lay down, we gonna wait for this greyhound
The fukk you gonna say now?
Do me a favour, stop weighing me down
fukking clown, Lyrical Law is too muscle bound
Houdini style nikka, just struggle and drown
Get it over with you can never fukk with my style
You got raped nikka, you bleeding, don't touch my towel
You can spit them wack juice punchline lines all you want
But don't front, bottom line, I'm a champ, you a chump
You can spit your stupid punchlines all you want
But after this the whole world gonna see who won
That's what you wanted right, get the fukk off my mic-Canibus The Art of Yo