[Capcom "continue" sound scratched]
Ten! Nine! Eight!
Seven! Six! Five! Four!
Three! Two! ONE!!
Get ready fighters - it's showtime!
[DJ I-Dee]
Hi Timothy, it's your boy I-Dee
Part time emcee, super disc jockey
This ain't grind time, but b**h, it's Oz
And I'mma make you mine... just because
[Traphik]
Motherf**in I-Dee, I'mma call your Isaac
My flow too tight, just like how my eyes get
Put this on my Facebook, no I didn't like it
And we are not friends, so hop up offa my dick
[DJ I-Dee]
The first one was written, dude what are you spittin?
You don't even know you just spit about chains and glisten
Battle rap attack, I'm six foot four, you're short
I suggest you use Gary Coleman's corpse for leg support
[Traphik]
Playboy hat but you get no play
How I'm f**in hoes, you f**in Jose
Goofy-a** f**, you need to be slapped
You know you can't rap and your beats be whack
[Capcom scratching]
I can't believe my eyes
Final round!
[DJ I-Dee]
Here we go again, everyone look at Traphik
Constantly wishing his dick was big as a Vlasic
Pickle... dude here's a nickel
Quick, what else rhymes with nickel? sh**
[Traphik]
You got no rhythm and you always look drunk
Tall as f** but yo' a** can't dunk
I f**ed yo' b**h, you better call Maury
And he popped a blood vessel on his dick - true story!
[DJ I-Dee]
Yeah I f**ed up, dude you s**
I'm just gonna go generic and say WHAT WHAT!
Like the N.O.R.E. song - you like a co*ker spaniel
I'mma leave you dead like Pearl comma, Daniel
[Traphik]
I'mma k** your mom, and throw her in a lake
Your name is I-Dee cause you always be fake
Yo' a** cain't dress, you need to cut your hair
Turntable champ, cool - no one cares!