Diss The Bitch Above You Cypher

I'm more than that ,
I'm the proprietor of the Earth ,
I'm the ruler ,
In jewels and chains adorned with worth ,
Your a suspect ,
the definition of the foulness on the turf ,
I bring the guns ,
My cause to violence to damage you or worse ,
I’ll teach you good ,
Like yo school was a place to shoot up by a killer ,
I’ll give you death ,
which is a curse from god and I’m the dealer ,
My raps will end your career ,
I even destroy rappers when its filler ,
When I steal ya ,
Prison is where you’ll “feel” like your at but I’ll “feel” ya

"I'm the proprietor of Earth", and so humble with it,
it's quite an achievement if it's fully legit,
Its also sounds like what Jack says at the front of the ship,
In Titanic, if a Vulcan had come up with the script,
You love to talk about guns, well, call me old fashioned,
when I turn up to a shoot out with a boat cannon,
Catch ya girl in the crossfire, impeding her health,
my 20 inches hit her - it's funny, history has a strange way of repeating itself

I got this in the bag mandela, you never secured a bag mandela
Never slung a bag mandela, get zipped up in a bag mandela
Your pops wish he wore a bag mandela
Your momma need to wear a bag mandela
Can't afford to get ya girl a bag mandela
still asking paper or plastic, I don't give a fuck about the bag mandela

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Roll

I got this in the bag mandela, you never secured a bag mandela
Never slung a bag mandela, get zipped up in a bag mandela
Your pops wish he wore a bag mandela
Your momma need to wear a bag mandela
Can't afford to get ya girl a bag mandela
still asking paper or plastic, I don't give a fuck about the bag mandela

---

Haha fire

Stop it Roll, you don't want it Roll,
You dance like a bitch so this a body Roll,
Strung out on base you be rockin Roll,
You like a meat fillin you're a sausage Roll,
You like sex, drugs & faggots Roll,
You got a spunk covered poster of Michael Ballack Roll,
Couldn't make a meal out you it's just snackin Roll,
You can't eat with me mi casa's not su casa Roll

Is this what y'all consider lyricism?/
I seen more talent in a role call sheep skin bag of jism//
Feta, guda, mozzarella nothin' is cheesier than a bag of Mandela/
My two greatest opponents...a Stacy and a Stella//
Fuck it lets just post battle jingle/
I'll be that smooth motherfucker hopping juice with a platinum single//

Ask a cowboy, nothing smells worse than a 'can of bullshit'/
A bottle of lube, box of Kleenex gonna be the only decent tools you pull with//
Nemo Maxime be the handle, getting crowds lit with bics n candles/
You scarier than dickless vandals, I'm gaining head like thick width sandals//
Medicine man, cloud bringer, I'm the 'reigning' champ/
Blot out suns like a Persian army camp, pick shit to spit I make it humid...moist...damp//
What you know bout that field? The one called psychology, I'm a fuckin prodigy/
Battle himself? Yeah it's odd o' me, it's why I got lines like Homer's ....//
I get in yer' head like a siren, reverberate words till it splits like a busted hymen/
Yeah I'm taking it easy on you cause your half man like Tywinn//

When I say I that I'm relatin to your raps its true,
Cuz at the end of every line I wanna slash you too,
Horsin around land you an L like it's mother fuckin chess,
Check, your queen was on my D2 that's why she up n left,
You know cuz for a queen to get to D2 it's got- listen young Homer, come closer,
Real shit, I had to shoot a lame cow with a 12 bore n watch it slump over,
So just know I can sleep on you and still move your earth I'm a Bull dozer,
But credit for your record, cuz you got 2 bodies on it fam,
And as for the rest, I'm sure you ate your losses like a man

Bag ,
Its about time that you spit some creative game ,
cuz you as a rap head get dealt with the cross of shame ,
These jungle bars get lifted when I smoke and spit it,
Put a calistenic meter on ya head when I blast ya fitted ,
I'mma danger MC ,
takin these wins back to the streets ,
I cause ya functions as a lyricist to delapidate when you speak ,
Put the sock in ya mouth with the automatic gun next to ya teeth ,
I remote bomb ya house with a dynamite charge when ever its beef

Back and forth with a Soar [saw], this a fresh made casket;
I’ll put this trick in a box, that’s what S.K part is [what escape art is].
C’mon.

Hey, you told Bag that he has “a cross of shame”...
You’ve got some ‘embarrassing exes’, but it’s not the same.
And I ain’t tryna complicate your common claims...
You ain’t even dropn Roll, but think the body’s flames?

Wait, how come the shit you wrote for ‘Rolls’ was the one time you didn’t mention cars?
Less advanced, I set a path, and if you had that drive you’d go the extra yard.
I mean, you coulda said some shit about ‘Rolls phantom’ for some clever bars.
You coulda even called Rolls-Royce Da 5’9, and made the reference hard.

Me, I’d have started out: I’mma steamroll your esteem, Roll.
I’d have shot him and cut him... said: you act like a B’, Roll,
And then made the scheme fold til the theme’s whole,
Like: ‘I’mma fuck up your dream,Role, like I scene-stole’.
Something like that. I dunno.

You can check back a page and see how Soar said it.
I refuse to even quote that shit, had to source-edit.

You use “remote bombs”? you ain’t gotta say more,
I mean, for real though, our struggle’s the same, Soar...
All this social distancing shit is a pain, Soar...
Had to trade in my switchblade for a two-metre greatsword.

These are hard times cuz, I’m just tryna cope.
Had to trade in my sawn-off for a goddamn sniper scope.

I'll wreck you like jesus ,
I'm not bringin redemption for the livin ,
Virb I'm a killer ,
I should get a black ribbon ,
You speak on my flow ,
its on the Euphrates ,
come and ride ,
and get ate up by pirana’s ,
They’re dangerous like Sharknado street side ,
I’m liver than bombs ,
Devastate the structure of a army base ,
If you live in one ,
Shooters gotta provide protection for ya face ,
Cuz I’m aimin at ya ,
The street catches ya head and ya cranium shatters ,
The league posts my diss numbers on you ,
and that’s a stadium matter

The guns don't side wind ,
they dissect your body with a bullet ,
When its on ,
You gotta worry about ya seeds ,
or if ya clothes ruined ,
I’ll aim at you slow ,
Birds flyin from the hood block ,
I’m on the streets ,
Tryin to put the beam on a good spot ,
I only keep 2 slug inside of my smiffin ,
These bullets sting like a bee ,
and float like a griffin ,
You got infinite patience ,
until your country releases its guard ,
then I’m takin rocket explosions to the chest like a god ,
Talkin back to kaid ,
Puts you in as a "virb"al pawn ,
“Eminem” talked about you ,
You can’t “Lose Yourself” when the mic is drawn

The mic is drawn like a weapon - your situations dire fam,
give this trans deuces, pop caps-ule feel it in ya diaphragm,
I'm the Ying n Yang, the plus n minus,
taking forever to write something timeless,
stay sick I'mma take ya chikungunya virus,
Infect your soul Soar, 3rd eye conjunctivitis,
Blend in with the buffalos to hunt the Tigers,
I wanna let the nose spray I got a stuffy sinus,
But I'm a peaceful man with a lust for violence so I'll swear just had 2 like drunken drivers

You could be one in a million ,
wit you performin live in a stadium like michael ,
You aint no genius ,
I’ll expire ya life span when I pipe you ,
The winds at ya back ,
Like they egged you on to fight the piru’s ,
Ya MC skills are tragic ,
you had to suck a man for a label to sign you ,
If you report a death ,
I’m goin all out on you for snitchin ,
You want the beef like a punk? ,
You want a problem? ,
Well I’m willin ,
You seekin goals ,
Wit bullets in my schools basketball Buildin ,
But I’ll damage you quick ,
Wit my sliders ,
Aimin guns wit the minions

I'll nip tuck ya limbs ,
wit a knife in ya ab's ,
I'll take you out quick ,
throwin my hand for a jab ,
Flow hot but your never that ,
Your body turns cold ,
When I freeze ya thoughts ,
like a cryogenic lab ,
Waitin on ya own death makes you bitter ,
give you the run around ,
makin you mad to spark ya temper ,
I’ll put you to the knife ,
as you scream the neighbors hear ya ,
when your cuts heal ,
you can’t look at ya scars in the mirra , (mirror)
If you think you’ll die ,
Then the man on the cross will prepare ya ,
On ya last breath ,
You observe Soar Kaid as your soul bearer ,
I got the skills of a “toker” ,
Ride wit me or I might “smoke” ya ,
You in the streets ,
Aint stopping me from makin quota’s , (quarters)
I roll with soldiers ,
Get on the road wit that flow ,
and I will fold ya ,
I’ll crease you up ,
like a receipt I got from the grocer mandela...

Your dad's minor, he's a flat tyre cab driver, LGBT DJ at a club called Transpire,
You said you're gonna pipe me fam it's not a fag cipher,
You could really get kilt for tryna be a Bag piper,
He wanna hug n hold hands,
Kaid softer than a summer romance,
I'm harder than your mum tryna put on old pants,
She'd never been fucked right til she met me, n-eneh cherry pop like buffalo stance,
Do you know how I know that Soar's an active racist?
You can tell by the shade of black his face is

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Soar Kaid

I’ll expire ya life span when I pipe you ,

---

⏸️