Artist: Mizza Album: Revelation Genesis Song: Battle Me Typed by: ts.windsor@gmail.com ("Ladies and gentlemen Tonight we have, the battle of the century") [Chorus (x2)] Round one (round one), round two (round two) Round three (round three), battle me (battle me) Yo, yo round one Let me begin this, ring the bell Complex like microchips processed like Intel Melt mics to molten metal Leave the whole city level, I'm a Stomp on heads, plus Murder the world In this game I'm a make my move I refuse to lose I'm a strike that match and blow my fuse I'm not amused I leave mics bruised, battered, and abused Take ya innocence, make ya feel used M-I-double Z-A, Mizza wizard Unpack ya backbone and shake ya gizzards I'll make ya whole body hurt as I slither through the woodwork It's not just my work, it's the law of my universe Now my verse for verse, chapter for chapter Never ever ending hit, here there or after I'm setting mics on fire as I shred your speech It's like part of a feat, battle me (battle me) [Chorus (x2)] Now my adrenaline's pumping, I'm ready to throw down One blow off round one and you're stumbling around We've approached round two and you hit the ground By round three you'll be TKO'ed, totally knocked out I could handle twelve levels, in one round alone I pack a lyrical chromosome, and a mic of platinum and chrome Don't dare call me Mizza call me, Mizza Messiah I'm your, worst nightmare but your number one desire Leave your mind wired, how many emcees remain The lyrics I contain is enough to disconnect the brain You thought your lyrics were heavy but they were light at the weigh in Put my lyrics on a scale and it would say "overweighted" Oh my gosh, can you imagine if I'm actually concentrating I would know your next move before you do from what you're thinking I'm a make it in 'em seas, from the Atlantic to the Pacific I was at your level once but now I've finally mastered it I rock this disastrous dangerousness Put your tongue, in a twist And heavily damage your esophagus I'm leaving no witnesses, emcees are in the breeze You're having trouble standing, follow me to round three [Chorus (x2)] Now it's, really my time I'm ready to, blow like a missile Melt your bone marrow and shatter your gristle 'Cause the stage is my ring, the mic is my ref And my ref says you need 20 sets to catch breath Now you're sweatin', knees buckling Ready for some suckling Let me rock you to sleep, and tuck you in 'Cause my one, my two, I'm breaking the rules Leave you frustrated and confused like a Rubik's cube Now I'm running through, tearing down barricades Avoid this renegade I'm like a runaway train I'm the one to blame, for rocking mics in different places Leaving no, physical traces, you cats hate it My style's so creative, melt a mic that's gold plated And the liquid taste stings and erase my concentration So here's a demonstration of the rhymes that I got When my mic socket's fifty degrees, made you hot [Chorus (x2)] ("You're a devious bastard")