Peter And The Wolf March

Prokofiev

Score: 7
/
Played: 183

Genres:

Russian
Classical
Composer
Composers
Contemporary classical

Moods:

Languages:

Featured by:

sapir

Wiki:

Lyrics:

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[Round 1: Illipsis] I said... First off, shouts to those who been abusin' my name And think the main stage looks gave me delusions of fame 'Cause I just put my city on with every opportunity gained And you in Vancouver today, so, ho, get used to the reign! Man, I been sick for a minute, and I ain't get well yet I've been hellbent on puttin’ figures in a box like an Excel spread They saw a virus gettin’ esteem, so they sent help west I'll claim your vital organs, then sell your stem cells next You gotta stop that awkward talk 'bout how the lead shells prepped 'Cause you be tip-toein’ through the hood, doin’ eggshell steps This ya death knell, just because your threats felt stretched And all this bitch will do is talk about the boy: you failed the Bechdel Test But hell yes, I got a legend, I'm with it, believe me But there's this imbalance here that's making you tricky to beat, G 'Cause 20 battles, still plenty angles It's 150 for me, Pete! What can I really say re Pete that...isn't a repeat? Like, age? No Race? No Weight? No Face? No You're the greatest of all time at...being a scapegoat So, in lieu of originality, I got genius to substitute Battle 151, and you'll see me with the W That's a Pokemon bar, if you can't see it in front of you 151's "Mew", and that's me with a W I did it 'cause he hates Pokemon and schemes, so that's a scheme just to fuck with you! Traveler getting wet up with the beam I propose we all toast I got Guinness in the sleeve like Obi-Wan's robes Peter said that he's a beast? Homie, only God knows I'mma catch him in the streets like Pokemon Go! Bro, why the fuck you hatin’ on Pokemon When your fuckin’ body type is "Poker Mom"? It's just cards, your insecurities are hidin’ away But he prefers a standard deck...'cause there, he gets a higher value assigned to his face! Your shit is FUBAR, though This might be too harsh, bro Dawg, you got the complexion of a QR code What a lurid disgrace! Y'all really sure it's a face? Like that’s not a urinal cake that developed personal traits? I’m sure that it’s played, but trying to beat the man’s face I put this head in a bag...let’s just keep it that way! Old man, you arthritic I spar different, you aren’t with it But I’ll break your chest open so you can say you put your heart in it 30 seconds, he get dropped in a flash, start tippin’ Brush the square, and leave a mark on the canvas: I’m artistic Poke his gut, carve in it, scars in it, partition Arms twitchin’ while he lyin’ face-down: he starfishin’ A blood puddle sparked him, and he chokin’ on dark liquid Over ego, you could die with your face in a pool like Narcissus! You aren’t mythic Ain’t no god in the wild...Hallelujah...Hallelujah A thousand ways to say that you’re fucked: Kamasutra You’d think they brought Hoffa through, ‘cause when I sock it to ya All this snake got was his fuckin’ face rocked: you saw Medusa! To talk his music...shit sounds like a calamity of clown calls Icarus...son thought that shit would fly, but what’s on wax will be your downfall! Town Hall, a nation to an arch-conqueror He sweat profusely ‘cause his face is full of large aquifers I’m makin’ Two-Time double-time his heart monitor Get on the map, and put a legend in the corner: I’m a cartographer! It’s Illipsis! VanCity Myth Killer, I’m in business You shit-talk, I talk that shit...it’s a big difference! [Round 1: The Saurus] Y’all are lookin’ at a flatline...you ain’t readin’ his growth chart Temple of Doom, droppin’ fire to the beat of his own heart They only book me for that dope: I’m the preacher from Ozark So you knew money was gettin’ washed when the first scene of the show starts! Let’s talk, Illipsis Feels like I’ve seen what the Apocalypse is Last week, I battled Geechi Gotti But you remind me of ‘Pac, Illipsis But you’ve been a good kid this year, and I know that this was on your wish list So I flew up to give my grandson these socks for Christmas! This ain’t no Las Vegas weather, though! Van’s a cold place to be But any battle on the West still a home game for me So let’s give them the showcase these folks paid to see More than their money’s worth: my code name is “Loan Agency” Homie, that’s high interest There’s more than a discrepancy of height with this I’m Raphael: there’s a size difference Blackin’ out, say, “Good night”, flip his light switches I snap, you seein’ butterflies around your head like white bitches! The guy wishes he could light me up! I’m takin’ shots of Bombay: that’s a Mighty Duck Try to digest this too fast, you might freeze up I’m back in Van’ with cold bars: that’s an ice cream truck! He needs luck, ‘cause I’ll snap in a second And deck him so fast it resets him back to the factory settings Based on his rapid progression, they put Nat vers’ a legend But he’ll have to adapt in the second if this is Nat’s real selection! You cracked a million views when you were just some frail 8th-grader... And went from viral, back to nothing 28 days later! Time! [Round 2: Illipsis + The Saurus] Flip time! I said, he mentioned the Canucks Well, Pete knows he’s in trouble I mean, he didn’t, but… Fuck! I knew I shouldn’t have pre-wrote these rebuttals! So you’re Mr. Two-Time Everything? Well, Round 2, I’m pissed That’s too many accolades for just a loud humorist You entered freestyle tourneys, when the crowd views are writtens And for that manipulation, man, they crowned you the Prince? O.J. got away ‘cause they ain’t found proof that fits Now look at dude’s rings: the legacy ain’t sound too legit Watch the ground move and split, all around you it shifts Frodo Body-Baggins: take your two rings and Mount Doom the shit! I mean, Two-Time Everything? Lord, The Saurus dumb! You’re two times two things A couple more, you’re scorin’ once Snakes stay suckin’ his own dick, repeats his corny formula So now it’s Ouroboros that The Saurus’ aura borrows from! But the two times it plays...in a you kind of way I’ve seen your new wifey, mate, and you, like, two times her age She fire! Yeah, facts! Not for the next 12 bars, but facts! Nah, boo the type to rock a slave costume on Comic-Con stages Queen in disguise, like Padme watchin’ pod races Jabba keep her on a leash This plot is not for all ages Your princess lay ya ‘cause she look for love in all the wrong places! But it’s not a home or a company car Pete brings So she’ll probably say no when he propose with a WRC ring! (He’s got two! Don’t worry!) Bro, she black market organ-dealing: she charge fee for brain Thin body, musky scent: she got a Darjeeling strain Man, the part she conveys is one of scarred knees and shame So why split your ex box? Let’s make it cartesian plane! Ho scooped him off the streets of Montreal, and you should rue the thot Going gooey-soft and lookin’ newly thawed, like they approved detente Dude lookin’- Thinkin’ you a boss ‘cause you seduced a frog The coup de grace is for your princess, you can cop the coup d’etat that Louis got! Quebec just made him fatter, playin’ gangster, and it makes me sick Tell Vladimir Poutine ain’t no such thing as a “Crepe Street Crip” You play these chips on Facebook, with a customary start Status: “Legendary poker grind. I hustle very hard About to smash this tourney, then go crush it at the bar.” Minutes later, shuffles back, like, “It wasn’t in the cards…” You went from Cali to Vegas for gambling: great plan You and Charron should star in a re-enactment of Rain Man! I like that, ‘cause that means that Corey’s the slow guy! But say, fam, what’s good with that paper chase when it goes dark? And you sweatin’ at the slots, makin’ payments to loan sharks? Every battle, he accept without a thought, make him take it with no spark So now money gettin’ washed: Jason Bateman in Ozark! Fans still riding hard because they’ve likely overwritten Need for cash behind the bars like it was live at Folsom Prison It must hurt to walk the line of catching bullets in your face Or lookin’ like you used to keepin’ bulletins in place What Pete compose is decomposed Heat froze in full emit decay Five feet to go, already got a foot up in his grave And I got OCD, conditions push in different ways I got an arbitrary system for how books should get arranged And it’s that OCD that’s got me cookin’ him today... ‘Cause that’s what made me need to check Two Times just to put him in his place! Pete gets a brief death, you won the coward’s lottery So you Two-Time Everything...plus rounds you lost to me! Quality! [Round 2: The Saurus] Rain Man, I gotta comment on how dope that bar is… Mostly because you called Charron retarded! Now we in the Northwest Since birth, the kid’s earned stripes You starred in the movie Kick-Ass... Hi- Hit-Girl, right? Last battle of the year, though, so I gotta tell the truth I’m tryin’ to end this on a high note like an acapella group My pitch perfect I’m on the attack, I’m a insurgent Your bitch askin’ me “Come again?” like she misheard it Flip trick, she only rode halfpipe and got inverted Said shit like Illipsis, then gave this dick lip service! Listen, we got some shit to settle Pick your poison: pen or pencil Pick your tempo Five Fingers of Death, pick the instrumentals He can write a little, but there’s different levels of disrespectful Round to his chest, give the kid a Special Olympics medal You shoulda switched your schedule You can’t match me at my penmanship I’ll give the kid this work like he asked for an apprenticeship Then at the end of this, he’ll still be actin’ like we’re friends and shit But bitch, I’m only burying the hatchet if it’s evidence! I never miss a shot, I got Special Ops training They said I got lazy Nah, I just had my weapon on safety You think this little blonde lady’s interceptin’ Tom Brady!? This a bad impressionist against a Renaissance painting! I am not playing, Illipsis You will never get away wit’ this You picked the worst time to come out: you Kevin Spacey’d it So face it, bitch! To win, you’ll have to kill me first I’ll give your bitch that pipe so big, she calls it “the Lil G verse” [Round 3: Illipsis + The Saurus] You might think it’s hate for Pete - it’s truly all banter But dawg, are you a bald panda or an off-duty mall Santa? Boy, you’ve been bad this year Just goin’ through the process for a check Code word was “naughty list” ‘Cause that means now a cold sock is all he can expect The tartar drowns Pete Plus your Charlie rounds weak And now your stock is decline That’s word to Charlie Brown’s tree I mean, you sucked vers’ Clips - remember? Shoulda done your writtens better Instead of bringin’ garbage threads that you fuckin’ stitched together like an ugly Christmas sweater Shit, whatever! Kris Pringles hoped the bag had dropped I’ll send Scrooge to an early grave just to advance the plot Black Pete’s eyes on the side, it piss the Spanish off Me, I been whippin’ kids in the street Why send Santa Claus to Krampusnacht!? They gas him on this platform Got him flashin’ back to Laugh N’ Stalk Get different for the green, I got the faces on the banner swapped Cameras on, got the Grandmaster broadcastin’ dawg And now I’ll smash a god in the arena like Ragnarok! Damn, it’s been a long time comin’, but his ego crazy Went from tweet quotes daily to sayin’ “He won’t faze me” Claimed he wasn’t fuckin’ wit’ the kid Watch Pete go spacy (Spacey) I ain’t seen somethin’ Greek so flaky since phyllo pastry! I got the cheat codes, baby Y’all sent heart disease to spar wit’ me? I’m armed for speed Now Super Meat Boy ain’t even hard to beat And pardon me, sir, but your appearance is awful You been doin’ lines of lard and leavin’ grease in your nostrils Fuck G Double E - he’s really leading the Ronalds ‘Cause you’re out here puttin’ the “MC” in McDonald’s! Aight, listen, White Grimace I’m sure it’s just the cocoa beans talkin’ Or you got a full-blown sweets problem, Cold Stone Steve Austin That’s exactly why he may deserve the chain But for the chain of command, it prolly ain’t in the plans ‘Cause that means makin’ that face the face of the brand And face it, looks like someone hit your face with a brand Tell Jonah Hex-meets-Jonah Hill they need a leader with some pull Prokofiev: the only time you hearin’ Peter and the Wolf You’re just a gatekeeper now, and it’s fillin’ him with wrath Gandalf…old man fell off screamin’ and broke his bridges wit’ the staff! ‘Cause Peter Morris seen too many seasons since when he could feel importance They set you up to lose that chain, and since, your dreams have been distorted Now contenders are the I.C.E’s and the Tez’s, so then Peter needs to forfeit If they already know the statement that they’re makin’ and the way they’re gonna say it Homie, what would make you think there’s any need for a The Saurus!? It’s fire Confirmed fire Cut the waterworks! Your opportunities, you botched ‘em first Every other battle, bobbled spurts Clips, forgot your third Then your whole identity adopted an ironic turn ‘Cause who’d expect to see The Saurus at a loss for words!? Heard you got a photographic memory Cool…I got sociopathic tendencies! An open glass of Hennessy and total lack of empathy The Saurus, your apotheosis was a mediocre rap celebrity A tiny star stuck inside a slow, collapsing entropy Wanting to be King again, and knowing that you’ll never be Too obstinate to quit, and he’s too old to catch a second breeze A broken, fat, pathetic piece of mopey adolescence He’s been lowered into debts of his own overdrafted legacy! Rest in grease Jesus, how’d you fall so low so fast? How’d your bravado hold you back while it was caught in rolls of fat? Caught him lashin’ out at homies that he thought had stole his chance A smokescreen hiding your decline in a revolving cloak of ash Even on the bottom rung, you’re hanging on with broken hands You’ll still be holding on to rap, ‘cause homie, all you know is THAT! [Round 3: The Saurus] Yo! Now we’ve all got vices in our lives that some folks won’t let go And that chocolate ice cream addiction’s mine ‘cause COLD STONE SAID SO! Alright, look My last verse of 2017…it ain’t a resolution list Death row inmate: you gonna see what execution is The cross will lay him flat Don’t forget the crucifix Every line stands on its own, I’m an evolutionist He ain’t never threw a fist, though, ‘cause this pansy’s threatened By that The Saurus heat War & Peace to a Panzer engine? Wait, that whole bit this ho bit from a battle legend Keep it 100 - that was something that you jacked from Pesci A bad impression Gallagher: I’ll smash your melon Yeah, son first went viral in his adolescence But I’m back tearin’ you up: that’s a staph infection! He thought that it was in remission, but the cancer’s spreadin’ Now class in session Yeah, we had some tension But his chick gave me a hand: that’s a happy endin’ I’ll dead Nat in a nanosecond Arms wavin’ like a class of freshmen tryin’ to ask a question! Tool Time! Black and deck him Look how sad he’s gettin’ Now that the damage sets in from me using his craft in ‘Cause I ain’t come to joke around, little homie I had a message Your bars are worthless writtens, mine are “earn a livin’” That’s expensive Time