Wasn't aware that this had happened...
Sole vs. El-Producto (El-P): Beef started in the late 90's when Sole thought he was being dissed subliminally on the track "End To End Burner" by El-P's group Company Flow, and released his own track, "Dear Elpee", which was a huge underground hit and was entirely devoted to attacking El-P, Company Flow, and all record/distribution companies involved. Company Flow returned the favor with "Linda Tripp", which included several snippets of a recorded phone conversation between Sole and El-P where Sole came across as afraid of El-P, stated that he "loved Company Flow", and wanted "to be down" with El-P and Co-Flow. While the track was received with almost equal popularity amongst underground hip-hop fans, there was a bit of a backlash due to El-P's usage of his phone conversation. The beef eventually died down as both artists moved on, but Sole, and to a lesser effect his Anticon label, are viewed as having their credibility damaged due to Sole's contradictory tone being played out on Co-Flow's "Linda Tripp".
Linda Tripp (diss to Sole of Anticon) by El-P
El-P: "Straight up if it wasn't for cats like me
For real and I am not bullshittin
If it wasn't for cats like me you wouldn't be in the rec
in the door and I know that's true now knowwhatmsayin?
Because now you're really in some of it"
Sole: "Where's Len? I told Len that fuckin; I sai {slight pause}
Quote, that I said, I love Company Flow
I don't wanna be against you guys I-I-I quote
quote, unquote I said, I wanna be down - you know;
like I said I don't want beef with you guys
YouknowIamlikedude; like fuckin
this whole shit is bananas, y'know"
El-P: "Like you're gonna make it by dissing me
You know the record that got CoFlow scared, knowwhatmsayin??
It's like DO I SOUND SCARED??"
Sole: "No I don't think you sound very scared"
Some cats know us but this one don't
I oughta pierce this fuckin phallus through your rookie ass throat
Yo Duke, don't step to me until you're ripened fruit
I'm loopy from the invitations from funeral glue
Stone poems dissolve combatants via shards through 56k high speed
Still blitzed like relaxed I'll call geisha felatio deeds
like fertilizer bombs packed in air tower compartment docks
Sticky fuck revolution shot - send all complaints to Rupert Murdoch
I'll black out in the mug of suburbanites with little stinger's crew
You volunteer for the draft stupid--thats on you!
On some upper middle class romantic notion
So the mortar scraps'll fly cry gates section 8 escape like Klinger do
The demented happy face bruised back for pussycrew packin
Rockin clam diggers with cut knees in Hepatitis puddles - no vaccine
Plus 99% are down but you still give respect for
Silently questionin your direction - like Amistad passenger section
Gilbert Grape against Magneto odds;
Ultimate Break 5 versus your needle pops;
Davey Jones versus Goliath;
I'm Ed Sullivan Beatles crowd response
I slowed it down - try to download this gig to formatted floppy disk
while heads bop like epileptics sucking my dick to some off-beat shit
Sole: "I l-l-l-l-l-l-love Company Flow"
::scratch:: "y-y-you faggot"
This spoiled brat little young saga got a mommy bought my sampler tapes
(Sole: "I wanna be down")
Make sure every one sheet snippet tape flyer sticker and t-shirt
got a representation of my name and face
I rock beats that Tina Yothers morning sickness without makeup ugly dusty
Fucked up four track dirty ass crack pirate radio readiness
Okay fella; I own my masters, lyrics, merchandise
mic, turntables, style psychosis pain and penis
Deranged cadence kills syllable UV needles
Makin gangsters in the crowd throw bottles at my people
We dip on life cycles few data crisp since
custom Jeep Dapper Dan era in 3 fat goose
swingin discs of Tron to disembowel your village elder
Fuckin sick isn't it?
Bucket my piss while you're at it kiss the dog dick
Try to act monstrous but just a Beanie Baby after my profit
That don't do much for hip hop - that isn't respect it's cockfondlin
In eighty-nine we called it tip-doggin; but you ain't know that rookie
Don't ever try to front like you know me or my people
By the way Vordul did I bite?
Vordul: "yea right!!--thats fantasy lie snake trife"
Sole: "like fuckin - this whole shit is bananas"
You little lying muthafucka you know you kiss my ass
and then you try to ::scratch:: "change up the past"
Who fell into their own hari kari kit when they lied to themselves
Self abuse by selling lies self destructive
I am Captain Kirk, Spock and Lieutenant Uhura on the away team
You're Henson Lebowitz - the sacrificial lamb for the episode
You beamed to the wrong planet this time
with a hot pink phaser and one line
before getting morphed to faggot dust for not knowing our status
Automatic and absolutely the poisonous shit-licking one cyber reject
New England rich boy soon to catch a Bay Area eject
Marionette pussy non-veteran
I got more friends than you where you live
(Menopause/ Men all pause) when I stop that flow of estrogen
You wanna be on the cutting edge--sliced up
Emotions knifed--life sucks
feeling dejected when frustration is misdirected in official election
Conjections on top of blaming misinformation textures
So inane--I cause colon blow pain
You have an obsession respect it
From now on you're immortalized playin yourself on my record
Congratu-fuckin-lations; isn't that what you wanted-- IDIOT!!
There's more than a little difference between yours and mines existence
This is my ride; and you're not commandeering it
The only thing advanced about your music
is that you need a computer to hear it
This year you're independent,
last year you was on some keep it real shit, right?
The last year before that you discovered hip-hop
and you immediately became an internet genius
Facetious pseudo-intellectualism can't contest wisdom
I feel like Selena; the president of my fan club trying to kill me
And you'se a bad ass?
Let's take a Linda Trip file since you wanted to play the game filthy
Bad enough that you lied about me;
front like this isn't your voice
I'll be forced to release the microcassette in it's entirety
Sole: "I mean, fuckin Len knows, I mean.. y'know I like your shit
You know it's not really like that y'know"
El-P: "I don't know that you like my shit
I haven't even heard your record
I have no idea what you think about me"
Sole: "I-I-I-I-I love Company Flow--I love Company Flow
I don't wanna be against you guys--I don't wanna be against you guys
I wanna be down--I-I-I-I-I wanna be down--I-I-I-I-I wanna be down
:: "I love Company Flow" -- [Sole's voice stretched and echoed
so it sounds like he's sputtering and stuttering]:::
This is one of those precious moments of ferocious paybacks
Closest to the perfect scenario you made a move but it backfired
Magnified by the fact that you tried to project a persona
of confrontation by subverting a crew who in fact you idolized
Next time your delusions of groupie lust and battle fame
Isolated website hip-hop coast Tiger Beat subscription addiction
Malignancy career impotency lies high school gossip power move
will simply get you beat the fuck up, liar
Spell my goddamn name right next time pussy
Feel the beauty of futulity served with arsenic cookies
and old lace, you tried to save facial; yo fuck that I fold space
You musta thought you was Canibus trying to eat my ass
How does the hole taste Timmy?
You don't even deserve this moment--do you?
You haven't paid enough dues to get a battle--pupil!
Run along and do your little interviews with your fantasy life distortion
Next time you reveal your true self
make sure that no one records it, stupid
Sole: "To be totally honest with you--I think your being cool, y'know
Like; I mean, taking in consideration everything--y'know"
El-P: "Yaknahmsayin my plan was especially to ignore you, but like,
now it's gettin very difficult to do that because you're makin too..
you're makin too big a deal, out of what you perceive as a diss to you;
when in reality like, I don't think you're completely
positive that you're totally correct on this one"
Sole: "Uh, I don't feel very correct right now; at this point
That's why I don't really have anything to say because it's like
well fuck, you know I made I made my El-P diss record already y'know?"
::scratching:::
damn thats a sucka---faggot----Get played, out of position
---true feelings---m-m-murder a rookie----
suck the dick kid and eat the dick cookie----
e-e-e-at the dick cookie
Dear Elpee(diss to El-P of Def Jux) by Sole
[Sole]
Dear El-Pee,
How's your summer been?
Mine's been fine
I heard you had a real good time at camp
Oh, yeah, I talked to Len, he said everythings cool
Oh, yo, I really liked "End To End Burner"
That little diss me thing on the internet was pretty funny
Yeah it's live sucker
Uh, yeah, and I was talking, ya know,
trying to sell my records to distributors
And they wouldn't take it because, you know
Some fat white kid figured it'd be funny to blackball
Well, you know, I wrote a little poem about it
and I really hope you like it
So have your mother read it to you
and if you guys like it you can write me back
I'm a Anticon iconoclast catalyst for cataclysm
Tell Fox dissing Sole, bad executive decision
Your egosystem's frail, with a spoon I could dissect it
Soundin' like Corky got his nubs on a websters dictionary
A Ras Kass record and a brand new MPC
Pressing all them pretty buttons making wack beats
To hell with phat beats I'd rather rock acapella
I'd rather be broke and have a whole'lotta resent
Not a rich king, a pawn, a pegan for me to pee on
Check out 9th street, a big sign, El-Pee got served in neon
Trendy indie underground 'cause you haven't got a choice
Take away your elitist buddies and you haven't got a voice
No five thousand for radio, no hundred thou for adds and banners
No paying record stores for all your Rawkus propaganda
Well-timed marketing scheme, its cool to be independent
But if it was last year you'd be a dun or a Missy Elliot
And after your indie bravado and the label has recouped
You're broker than when Libra left you crying for a record deal from Luke
I strike you awestruck you femanine to blackball
I'll be serving you 'till you're serving me ice cream in a mall
Some fool said this is an underground Canibus and LL
Well that's comedy, 'cause I'll serve all three of y'all
Heard Rupert had to starve all the indie artists to feed your ego
Running around the Bay looking for Sole with your foot in your mouth
I heard you like the Bay (castro) but think four tracks are wack
Lost in the ozone and all your mixdowns sound like crap
Hiding lack of intellect behind hipster catch phrase and babble
Indellibles'll never get a full-length 'cause you don't wanna be outshined
Fine, I heard you wanna kill me and get fools after me
The only violence you ever witnessed was on Menace ll Society
Try to sound deep and got masses fooled by your lack of rhythm
I elevate while you perpetuate your malopropism
[Sole mimmicking El-P]
Yo, wha, what did he just call me dun?
Yo, I don't know man
Yo, I, I don't know what he just called you man
Well, yo, go get the books, go get the Bible
Yo, man, well apparently you must have ripped all the pages out in the dictionary
man, 'cause you've used all the words
So I'm never gonna find out what he called me?
He's usin' big words against me?
Yo, this is intrepid god
I'm a hip hop artist, you style biting emcee sucker
Had a crayon contest with retarted kids and picked the wackest album cover
Picked the wrong emcee to diss subliminally, every line dissected
Yeah, I diss you on the internet, to your face and on record
For the record, I know the muck from which out you have stepped
First you sound like Beatnuts, then you're mr. 4,000 syllables
One bar, out of breath on stage a failure
Gotta quit rockin' mics and start rockin' an asthma inhaler
El-Producto, independent as Fox
Since when do indie records show up in a W-E-A box?
By saying your independent, you belittle the whole movement
Real emcee's work hard, ain't got investors to put out their music
Underground conspiracy, but this ain't used by No Limit
Mad 'cause you didn't blow up, the victim of your own wack gimmick
But some fools bought into it 'cause they don't know no better
That you're a hamburger pimp, only out for the cheddar
Yo, what's a battle emcee that can't freestyle?
All those references to imaginary emcee's, come battle me
Remember in Boston, you starting calling fools out?
And when emcee's tried to battle, you were the first to break out
Well, you surely don't wanna battle, of course you wanna fight, you're bigger
Fine, you win, we can have a contest to see who's the biggest wigger
Oh, you win again, it must feel great, I heard you don't like white emcee's
Traded in your Kani and X hats for a fresh set of Echo's and Adidas
You as hip hop as Garth Brooks and as manly as gartar belts
And if you're so creative, talk about something other than yourself
No, I'm not dissing New York or any of your comrades in arms
I'm tearing down that posterboy Miss Piggy-lookin' leprachaun
El-Pee vs. The Spice Girls (I got 5 on scary spice)
But both of y'all are in desperate need of backup singers when it's live
And I know they think you're original but follow me through this portal
You bit your whole styles from an underground emcee named Vordul
Spread rumors about me to everyone you meet, evade being a man
I heard you're putting out an instrumental album of sitars, pots and pans
You've done enough talking, so I know you ain't fading Sole
Have your boy Rupert Murdock fly you out, I'll serve you on the Wake Up Show
The red-headed kingpin, step child to a little herpe sore festering
Heard you only pull females when you tell'em you're a lesbian
Wanna sign autographs, but all your fans are rappers
The evolution will not be televised, as your #1 fan becomes your master
I'd love to give you a hand but all I got is a middle finger
Farakhan won't squash this, so we can finish it on Jerry Springer
Newsweek martyr, bring your rhetoric retort
You outta tootsie roll under your rock, your two minutes of fame got cut short
FYI: starving artists don't have corporate luncheons
Got a horrible freestyle and the rest of your style is (studio punch-ins)
The dun-crusher busts fresh overly when I blast'em
And those so-called freestyles, they all popped up on your album
Manipulate your connects so they wanna see me on a curb
But I guarantee you lyin' 'cause you know 1-on 1 you'd get served
Now it's time to pay dues like when Daddy Warbucks
Bought your face onto the cover of the last Stress
We gonna battle, so write your rhymes ahead of time
And I'll still come twice as fresh
And keep it all in the family, like Rose, I'll take a back seat
Keep my name out your mouths like my wax from the racks of (phat beats)
Fat ego's inflated, hope you liked my little poem
And hope to hear from you soon, signed, your friend, Sole
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Originally Posted by Atticus
Where you been at anyway?
