CHAMP WK 12: 一四三(7-2) vs. Dia(5-1) [143 Wins]

[OG Maestro]

http://imageshack.com/a/img513/6682/ye6d.png
CHAMP MATCH,
WINNER REMAINS/BECOMES THE HW CHAMPION OF THE SS LEAGUE!

@一四三 @Dia

Pick 1 Topic from the list & create a verse from it
Topic list is here, http://rapbattles.com/forum/showthre...Week-12-Topics

Check ins due on Thursday by 11:59PM
Verses are due on Saturday by 11:59PM
Voting ends on Monday by 11:59PM
New matches are set up on Tuesday's Morning(Before Noon)
(All times run on Pacific Time)

Please be conscience of the full list of rules
http://www.rapbattles.com/forum/show...642/index.html

5 Votes are required this week.
3 Regular battles, 1 Contenders battle, 1 Champ
Every regular missing vote results in a -1 vote for each battle on your next SS League battle. Every Contenders & Champ missing vote results in a -2 vote for each battle on your next SS League battle.

P.S: Recognition will be given to VOTW(Verse of The Week)

Goodluck!

[143]

check your reality

[Stranger]

check lol

[143]

I wish I could remember....
Like auburn Septembers, smoked embers and cocoa
Or “Timbers” from locals in the middle of December
With my Hawaiian girlfriend dining on loco moco.......

But I can't with the scantily clad memory banks
Victim of a path where I lie in security tanks
Giving my usery thanks, a world in a digital prison
Fidgeting the critical mass, my past became fictional
The cynical watchers dissect my soul with clinical incision
My physical presence.... mythical and criminal

I've become an enigma, stigmatic to the government
Acting lactic to my freedom, breathing is a covenant
Survival is a wonderment, they siphon my psychotics
The plundering of mindscapes achieved in biotics

Tortuous, they show what's an armistice's harmfulness
Implanting reactives in my cartilage, core of my power
Falling to the arsonist who gather dreams deferred
Blackening pain plays hard as it transforms barbiturates
Commands in heightened light, I glow, the skin devours
Earning forcefulness every hour that defiance's incurred

In the mist I hear the words my mother use to soothe
Slothing the sleuth of truth of the fact that I will die....

Then those days would return, mentally floating objects
Effecting conceptual notions dwelling in our complex
She smiles like my last days had already played out
My gift lays doubt to the normality it seeks as a way out
Even the barcode rides as a mark of the beast to track
On this world of earthquakes, our bond, it cease to crack
Until gestured attacks pulls the cords lighting Eden
She whisper remembrance through her measured breathing
That evening, I am the threat that science warned man
After a psionic blast level 20 miles of land....

http://fc00.deviantart.net/fs71/i/20...rt-d4cs523.jpg

But this prison of present tense has nothing to these dreams
Not even neuroceptors can careen the images synapses' scream
They can clean my body from the gift, a curse made in tinkering
Instead of becoming a key to man, I'm an asshole they fingering
Spending 30 years, prodded, the barcode withered from heat
Feeling like stories of glory days where man ate meat
The process, the same, man knows not what they unlock
An insurrection surges, poising for the right spot to uncock

That time comes in the form of inexperience
Letting a vetless offering lost in a precarious position
Nefarious actions frees binds, his life, inconvenience
Psionic waves vibrate free guards from their ammunition
Destroying passage ways and private quarters, my wrath
Imploding control towers, shower sentries with large glass
Psycho links asking “Who's in command?”
Pieces of answers gathered after they head and body disband
Rage, “For my mother!” rings as wall clears a way
Power with fear in a fray either kill or made those evade
The town goes black as ion blue flash dance with the stars
Townspeople pray as if it was God who got scarred.......

Arriving at the door where the man behind my plan reside
The tortuous lashes cashed is the order that he'll have
Doors fly, the guards' hide is now seen from the inside
A psionic blast remove the helmet of the face it masks
This transgression will be avenged, rescinding all, glad
As I turn to face my oppressor, I feathered a word.....”Dad”

[Stranger]

@一四三 if i don't drop at exactly 11:59 i need a few hours ext, will be posted before i go to bed tho.

[Stranger]

i'm posting in a few hours @143 i was thinking sunday.

[Stranger]

better

beating heart

the wire-frame of a beating heart, requires the constraints and dreams of art.
complaints that keeps us apart, those complacent shades... beneath the dark.
the keys to start, love is the cardio... and it’s the hate that really leaves a mark.
you pierced my blood pressure, that’s enough leverage, and a reason to part.
hard to act depressed, you target... axe to flesh, them scars attack my chest.
a party that we impressed, cant believe u ended up causing my cardiac arrest.
harsh we have to rest, toss emotions n the garbage, n the trash we have regrets.
in rehab from avid threats, a dark future, does a heart-beat if its stabbed to death?
you’re the mark of the best,.. a “666” tattoo to show the world your life is a gimmick.
you think you’re enticing my interest, if you're the reason, i’m always fighting my limit.
you're a leech in the heart that still beats, attaching to the valves to tighten ur grip in.
I caught you twice in your mischiefs,you brought a knife.. ur favorite device to hit with.
stake in my heart like i’m dracula,.. if I was a vampire I would’ve already bit yah kneck.
you just, lit the camp-fire with the heat from my burning heart, you must live too wreck.
you’d rather be on receiving end of my cryptic threats, than to bow down an give respect.
continuous pulse despite your constant abuse, it’ll take more to kill me then drifted depths
how can one person out-number a grown man, with odds that are big enough to gamble.
crushed an then canceled, heart still beating in the skeleton that I dug up from the mantle.
then she released her grip, un-clenched fists, as the hearts pus turns to dust on the candle.
you break down, and murder us,... like your scam in the first place wasn’t enough to handle.
all you can see is the blemished images,... and to you that’s gifted art that your eyes scan.
when this would all be over quicker.. and painless for my heart if you ripped it apart by hand.
stomp… stomp… stomp that’s the sound of my heart pounding,... after the scar’s... I stand.
still gullible, you reach for it again,.... it reaches back, u knew from the start that was my plan.
broken heart, that's flooded with aneurysms, its cramped, when your missing the noah’s ark.
a grim picture that was saved and shattered, battered, you started to quote this hopeless art.
this’s a case when your soul departs, and u start to focus on the end, waitin for the open arch.
give the defibrillator another charge,... but the heart can’t feel it, it’s simply just a frozen spark.
unnecessary compressions,.... if it still beats, I still beat her, despite my various confessions.
but our area of connections would keep us together as a family as we carry on with traditions.
buried from our addiction,... our past is forbidden, so this tension would scare any admission.
prepared for any mission, that involves a victory in the end, we can declare it by submission.
impaired by intentions, as we draw closer to a resting point, and the final beat that grows near.
knowing that road’s clear, will drive us insane,.... that last stomp, is something we both fear.
as soon as that stomp is replace by a loud pop,... we’ll hold hands and wait for the cloud drop.
this bitter ending is amongst us, as the crowd flocks,... this relationship, makes it’s foul stop.
this connection was better than most,.... I’ve seen better die, and they had a lesser impact.
tried to address her the facts, but who were compared to, might’ve been the stressor in that.
I stayed right by her stretcher, in fact.. our history is starting to look like its never been black.
that’s what we do, and I LOVE IT,... an soon as she takes her last smoke, I’ll treasure the ash.
I love the complication’s we endured, in the end, you where medication that keep me moving.
the rhythm we were on was intoxicating, it compensated,.... when my heart was beating to it.
turning them problem pages indeed was useless, it was ruthless when I was readin through em.
instead of a wire-frame for a beating heart, we would of succeeded, all we needed was a blueprint.
but if I still find a beat after all the triggering emotions, then you have to admit it was all for best.
esp if through all regrets, i’m still here.. after you took that knife, and stuck it in my raw flesh.
could’ve predicted it and saw death, our predicament was an equation, didn’t have to solve for x.
still capturing her apparitions...in her death she’s still putting me through hell and sad conditions.
it was counter productive, a louder concussion,..... come to think of it, it was a bad tradition.
a masked rendition would soon take over, and my heart would break closer to its last restriction.

[CLA919]

Ok well in my opinion Dia has this not just so much because what he put forth lyrically, just cause 143 was weaker then usual and dia changed his style up and was able to match 143 on his level.... I think he should get it for coming in, stealing a style, and making it his own. I mean if the tables were turned could 143 go dias style and perfect just the same - me personally, I don't think he can.

[OG Maestro]

Rhythm - Very close. 143. Lines were more condensed and flowing to the teat.


Rhyming - Dia, he deserves it. If I could sit here and sift through all his rhymes, I would. Cause the dude wrote a HELL of a verse.

Emotion - Both people usually bore me but dazzle my eyes with penmanship that is excellent. Dia edged this out with more emotionally invested wording. Even if it was a mouthful to get out.

Storytelling - Tie. I honestly can't weigh out who told a better story when they both did their thing in different ways.

Signifying - Tie, I can't sit here and say I see every single lit element and one has more. And if Dia has more, his lines are long as fuck so he had room for those lit elements.

[U]Creativity[/U] - 143, I enjoyed his change of pace. How he handled writing his verse this time around was professional and a bit more entertaining. With better wording the creativity flowed out and translated to the reader better, too.

Vote: 143

Thanks for showing up gentleman. This battle was very very dope but I think it comes down to preference.

[OG Maestro]

On a 2-1 vote, 143 Wins

Closed.