You're an alliteration of an illiterate allegory.
I feast on the mike like it's making me full!
Your rhymes make my brain want to leap out of my skull!
I am all things, the Alpha and Omega!
Clown you're sitting on the corner looking like a begga'
I'm sitting in my penthouse on the 50th floor
But like Trump, you're insolvent and secretly poor!*
I eat sandwiches and sushi from the finest tuna!
I don't dig your hu-ma'
I be killin
You're just a little fish: I'm the Big Kahuna.
My flow comes at you like a bolt of lightning!
That's sad, it does not seem very frightening
My armor is black, it's spikes are lethal
It's nice when you can do your sketch on an easel.
My rhymes are so fire they burn down your house!
All you do is whine, grump and grouse
All I touch gets radiant and spectacular!
You yourself were touched by something fiendish and tentacular....
The entire universe is my endless playground!
But your lack of skills leaves you lying in a smoking mound!
My disintegrator ray is ready to fire!
It only tickles, and draws you my ire!
Even in a palace, I live life well, just like Marcus Aurelius!
Pathfinder Rulebook, Starfinder Society Subscriber
But your palatial pronouncements are trite and supercilious.
Like quiksilver, my poetry flows.
Like the wind, your insult blows.
I am mighty and powerful!
How many shreds of your face have I got? A lawnmower-full!
I flawlessly translate Hungarian to English!
...But you're more EL James-esque than Dr. Chuck Tinglish.
I'll sweep all before me with my purple curple...
Pathfinder Rulebook, Starfinder Society Subscriber
Non-fans give you a nurple 'cause you're snurple.
I am #1, all others are #2 or less.
You look like a disgusting sewer mess.
I'm ahead of the curve, I live in the future!
But only 'cause you steal from your friends like a moocher!
My rhymes will make your head explode!
Not if I go ahead and shunt that diode.
I flow like a river and spit like a panther!
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Snow makes you shiver, and split like an antler.
My rhymes are divine, making you feel like a warm orange.
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You're the heretical Scot who put the 'n' in 'porringe'
I skwirl and hoot like an hundred pipers...
You're waistline's so big, the only belt that fits you is Kuiper's!
I'm a master planeswalker, I surf the Astral!
It's like I'm following a red, bouncing ball.
I step on the stage and the crowd goes wild!
But they're soon let down by your raps so mild!
I'm the Lava MC, fire flows through my veins!
You sound like a hippo that's come down with 'The Strains'
I'll clean you out like I was Senokot...
Pathfinder Rulebook, Starfinder Society Subscriber
But the stain left behind will make you want a petticoat.
Revel in rapture as I sussurate soothingly.
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I'll give you a performance that ends John-Wilkes-Boothingly!
I'm the Robespierre of Rap, I send jive to the guillotine!
More like Wilford Brimley, "Eat your Ovaltine!"
I keep the rock flowing like a hip-hop hopscotch!
If I know you then you are sure to botch.
I make all the goblins go crazy.
But like everything else, your rhymes are tired and lazy!
MCs crouch in fear of my lyrical style!
You make everyone call you by your nickname Ventnor, but I know who you really are...KYLE.
I make people bow down.
Pathfinder Rulebook, Starfinder Society Subscriber
Then, in their face you chow down.
I can rhyme, the likes of which the world has never seen.
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You only ever get the worst sorts of Bertie Bott's Every-Flavor Beans!
I am a master of magic - arcane, divine, alchemical, and psychic!
But you’re knocked down flat by a single brick!
My flow is unstoppable, my rhymes too real!
However your personality just doesn't appeal!
My presence is monumental.
But your rhymes are excremental!
Every challenger just melts before me.
We hear you: "Instagram please adore me!"
When I step up, MC's step down.
Then you step into a pit filled with 'Nutty Brown'
I rule the skies like a Mighty Hawk...
Yet when you see me you gawk!
I drop the mic and it steams for days.
It steams from the residue of your abiding malaise.
I pioneered the magic of oneirogenesis!
Pathfinder Rulebook, Starfinder Society Subscriber
Your imagined rain-icorn became your pansy hero's nemesis.
With a wave of my hand, and a sussuration, my legend grows to infinite quantification.
With a bla bla bla, and a bla bla bla, nice pontification!
My spittin skills is beyond you fools!
Your spittin’ skills are limited to making fizzy drools!
My rhymes are hotter and brighter than the noonday sun!
Pathfinder Rulebook, Starfinder Society Subscriber
Your slimes' car daughter band slighter when the ballon weigh fun.
Even my belches reduce ace rappers to waste.
Such bile explains your absence of taste!
I'm a master of fright, and a demon of light, and I'll scare you right out of your pants!
I'm a fiend-bitin', evil-smitin' Plaludlin, and now you're deader than Rosencrantz.
All the succubi in the Abyss flock 'round when I prepare to Lay On Hands...
Laying hands on cans, I understands, but your rapping just gave me the rans.
I'm the MCs' champ, you smell what I'm baking?
Pathfinder Rulebook, Starfinder Society Subscriber
You're a DC Tramp, I tell that you're faking.
My rapid rippin' rhymes make the ladies swoon.
They swoon because of the stench arising from your pantaloons.
The eighth wonder of the world is right here in my britches...
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