BigFooty's Next Top Rapper

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Wombles, how soon is now? Stop me if you think you've heard
Uniting Shakespeare's sister and shoplifters of the world
Of course I'm quotin' Morrissey, a genius with his pen
To show you how to spit a line, while Bigmouth strikes again
It's early mornin', I'm fresh to go and I'm readin' through your junk
I'm gonna to send you packin' so you'd best open your trunk
Start the engine, fill the tank and get those tyres screechin'
Cos the closer you stay to me boy, the more gold I'll be preachin'
I could go through line by line and pick out all the faults
But in the time it'd take me to get through 'em they'd find ol' Harold Holt
So instead I'll pick and choose my words and sink my teeth into 'em
You'll end up burnt and blistered more than a summer with Violent Femmes
Phat like Lucy Lawless? I'll have to take your word
But if you're tempted by her gruesome looks you really are absurd
In truth you need long dreadlocks and complexion dark as coal
Before you pass as the lead singer of Blessid Union of Souls
Time to shorten up now, take a bow and sink it with the foul
Gotta have your feet set, not your feet wet, the bookies have stopped takin' bets
The A-League saw, that Craigy Moore, had put cash on you to score
But they turned a blind eye, as with odds that high, he'll be collectin' his dosh when pigs fly
I don't want to insult you further young man
But I'll let you in on a fact, well, sorta
I'm typin' these lines from Adelaide
And my spittin' is as lethal as the water
You on the other hand are bottled and filtered
As harmless as a benign lump
So before you give me the tumour treatment
I'm gonna label you with 'Pump'
And your lines ain't out of place in a Kindergarten
But they sure as hell need nobody to police 'em
Instead you'd be better off fleecin'
Right now you're as original as Khe Sanh
Indochina, nothin' finer
From Vietnam across to Myanmar
All have one thing in common, sir
They all read your raps and their eyes hurt
Also, Mr Wonder jokes? I must disgress
You must be under some awful stress
Cos you know your rappin' is a terrible mess
When Stevie's laughin' as he reads 'em in jest
So in conclusion, you ain't dissin'
In fact I think you're deliberately pissin'
Me off with an rap that is as flat as a tyre that's hissin' in a jack
If your rhymes were in a forest, they'd be left alone by Ivan Milat
That's a fact, so bring it back
You cat
 
CrazyQ said:
Ok, let's get this s**t back, boys.

wombles goes here and then Thewlis.
Click to expand...

Your a poor excuse for an ump, Q.:cool:

This shits gone on for long enough.
 

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CrazyQ said:
True.

What's the next match? TOD is in the final right?
Click to expand...

Yeah, TOD is awaiting for either Wombles or Dish.

Wombles & dish have been fighting it out for 2 months now.
 
Well, yo Dish it seems verbosity is the name of ya game
Your over-written rhymes would make Chaucer blush
Like a peaked out raver in an ice induced gush
Or maybe that's the style, an oral diarrhoea
Too bad for your family, its a certain short career

So head on down to Centrelink, take 3 kinds of I.D.
And join the queue of suckers who have battled against me
You're rapping in the early morn, in Adelaide? Excuse me?
I'd make another Snowtown barrel joke, but that’s just way too easy
Instead I’ll sit back and let you sip that rancid water
and spare us all the pain of your lyrical disorder

You need to slow down ya lyrical tirade
Before ya steam up and blow up like the World Trade
So centre up your mind and fix me in your narrow sights
'Til then you aint a Prince, jus' a Robin Hood in Tights

Yep, yes sir, I’m straight filtered in bottles
And when ya check the social pages
I’m getting sucked on by models
But don’t be jealous Thewly
I bet you got ya ladies
Yeah, they all recall those two games in ’04, truly, maybe

Thanks for the suggestion Dish
Now I've got my engine primed, suped and started
You’ll be just another one hit wonder
Like The Vaughans "Who Farted!"

Now I rap with Ockham’s Razor, I don’t make assumptions
But you all loose and crazy, like Cousins’ family function
So sit ya self back down and and take note of how a Veteran do,
You see im better than you, and i’ma break ya in two
And clean you out ya house like Obama gon' do.

--
cheers. and to atone for my tardiness here is a somewhat topical youtube clip:

[YOUTUBE]BM-10anQC70[/YOUTUBE]
 
Yep, yes sir, I’m straight filtered in bottles
And when ya check the social pages
I’m getting sucked on by models



hahahaha, great part of the video clip i had going in my head, nice work man
 
I gotta dip my hat to you, Wombles, my good friend
I truly thought your challenge would meet a gruesome end
But at least you made me comprehend
And you came to play, even as a poser
When I assumed you'd choke it up just like Sammy Stosur
Actually I digress, my metaphors are false
To choke you've got to lead sometime, instead you got no pulse
Fallin' asleep in the Frankston branch, pervin' on the staff
When they ask you for three kinds of ID it's purely for a laugh

As far as this rappin' game goes my man, I've got you over a barrel
The Snowtown jokes are funny, if you're halfway to gettin' paro
Your ID sits at Centrelink though, so you're sober once again
But hey, I reckon you'd even giggle at Two and a Half Men
If my words cause you that much pain, you must be masochistic
As you rap lines that are even forgotten by those who are autistic

As matter of fact, in front of me is sat, those social pages you arrogantly spat
Bare your back, as you deserve a pat, keeping your exploits with models in tact
I've heard Julian McMahon has a lovely crack and Jake Wall is an impressive catch
Keep it from Jen though, wouldn't want her to break down while she empies my sack

So if you break me in two, you'd be Bobby Walls with less of a clue
As it would just cause you twice the pain and double the wrecking crew
That's comin' through you and you wouldn't even have to chew
As the diarrhea comes from your fingers, and you blame it on me, not you

I bet each school year you get boozed up and search for love in Lorne
But as far as physical reliability goes you're akin to Michael Vaughan
So don't ask me who farted, as the air holds just one stench
You're stinkin' up with more weight than Tiger Woods can bench

And Robin Hood? Geez, how offensive, the golden insults are really flyin'
I don't need to rob from the rich as my stocks are multiplyin'
And even if I did thieve 'em, I ain't givin' to the poor
Otherwise I'd be cap in hand, camped outside your door

Instead of a one hit wonder, a clean sweep is on the cards
I already disposed of 'Wiko, though in truth that wasn't hard
You're next on the choppin' block, so I can get my credit
While you're left to your own family function with cousins, geddit?
They're waitin' for you patiently, so rev up that engine and go
'Cos right now you're lamer than that re-make of 90210
Like my flow? I do it like a pro
I'll leave you to blow while the next round is where I go
Draped with hos, Obama's blessin' and Michelle's flower
If this battle were an election, you'd struggle to beat John Howard
 
Dish, just.

But I have to give props to wombles for my new sig :p
 
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