All stages have been completed. The voting points distribution and the result are presented below.
Spelling and grammar points
With 2 votes and same amount of points on both sides ...
It's a tie!
- Publication date
- Last update date
- Time for argument
- Three days
- Voting system
- Open voting
- Voting period
- One week
- Point system
- Four points
- Rating mode
- Characters per argument
~ 63 / 5,000
Vote as subjectively as possible. SUPPORT UNMODERATED VOTING.
*BOOTING RAP PROTOCOLS*
*RAVEN + MORMAN = ?*
You're mostly level headed, but deeply imbedded your noggin's shredded.
For this fact, Joseph Smith should be indebted
Credit for acceptance, but soon it will be regretted.
You couldn't win this battle with unlimited power of edit.
I've peeped your other battles, your rhymes they fizzle out.
They build a measure of bravado but end in just fickle doubt.
Your picture is of a raven, it should have been of a trout.
Cause you're swept up in my stream and your stench, it flails about.
The founder of your faith is called The Wizard of Blahs
You're not in Utah Isiah and my tornado's the cause.
You're in a sect of a sect of a shadow of what it is once was.
That's the chain of indoctrination that's what brainwashing does
I'm going out on a high note like a well timed fermata.
I'll have you writing home to leave like we're in Camp Granada
I'm thinking big picture, you're just a frail prima donna
I'm slaying you now, period. But my story will end off with a big fat comma.
How droll, how repetitive, attacking my religion.
Your rap is like a sedative, as a bird you'd be a pigeon.
Common belief has become the rule of society
and the fault of the public is a lack of propriety.
"Going out", that's true. Let me bid you adieu,
For that's what you'll do, this is nothing new.
You'll leave, don't come back, unless you can take the flack
Now that I've proven my knack, let's get back on track.
I took this up as a salve for my boredom,
but it seems that Ralph makes my life feel more dumb.
Prejudiced beliefs against other groups, you hoard 'em
If there's one thing you endorse, then it's probably whoredom.
When you went door-to-door, what exactly did you sell?
For those "goods and services", the price you paid was hell.
Honestly, I thought more of you from pure reputation
than I think of you now, you nihilistic mutation
Sure, of course! The universe is by accident.
Sentient creatures came to be by mere happenstance
To me, a more logical design takes immediate precedent.
When I decide which is better your worldview doesn't stand a chance.
That was a nice strawman, is there candy inside?
You got your facts wrong, your shots they fell to the side.
I'm not a nihilist nor do I promote genocide.
You talk about prejudice, reflect that thought you implied.
I sold magazines on the road, not sex, you creeper.
My life's been an adventure, your lies can't make them sound cheaper.
You sound hormone driven and you're possibly a peeper.
Just throw your rhymes out bro, not one of them is a keeper.
I agree that my reputation cannot get you prepared for me.
My very presence hits you with a congnitive disparity.
With commentary that also makes itself it's own parody.
Welcome to the Twighlight Zone where people be what they dare to be.
Instead of following dogma, the cogs are turning inside their head.
They don't take claims for granted, or blindly trust what others have said.
They don't need ancient wisdom to make the fiber of their moral thread.
They don't just do things right because the fear of hell fills them with dread.
nihilist: (n.) a person who believes that life is meaningless and rejects all religious and moral principles.
Wow! So you've got morals, congratulations.
That's not exactly special, by my calculations.
And who just barely brought up genocide, exactly?
I've only summed up your beliefs matter-of-factly.
Beliefs aside now; they don't determine the saint and villain.
There're plenty of unsavory types in all pools millin'.
I understand that insulting people's beliefs is your favorite
Let's leave that behind, but take this rap and savor it.
Call it a challenge, to see how good you can run
With your crutch called out, are you afraid that I've won?
You're too bland to make this fun, I've barely begun
I'm half your age and you're halfway to doornail-done.
Let's shake things up a bit, an odd number of stanzas
That'll make for some grand bonanzas!
Pour yourself a glass, and light up some grass
so my underage non-privilege will feel more crass.
Here's the fifth, and it's like I'm the Sith
Disrupting the balance in the Fource with
My lines, there a score, also known as twenty
Though to a stretched imagination sixteen's probably plenty.
I apologize, I haven't been taking this seriously.
I've been coasting along, instead of rapping most furiously.
Honestly, I kind of like you, so I've been spitting mysteriously.
With my throw away lines about some Mormon conspiracy.
But no more of that, I'm gonna treat you like a stranger.
I'm owning this bird, K? just call me the park ranger.
But your age betrays you, when you miss the signs of danger.
Who's the stronger mind between the stayer or the changer?
Cause when I get going I'm blowing out all your flows in one go and no one is slowing my roll, I'll show you what old Wrick It knows.
Your raps are as bland as my clothes, I've crapped better stanzas in droves, You're trapped while I grandly expose, I Yap while you stand decomposed
Beliefs intertwine every rhyme it's not fine to whine and decline that my mental spotlight can't shine, define how you find the divine.
Decide which beliefs to abide, provide explanations aside from snide bible verses implied to hide god's intentions inside.
You talk about morals, like oral sex is deplorable, wait a sec, but horrible crucifixions are simply adorable?
How can judge me using nothing but a fake position? Check your vision! You're looking at an atheist who makes decisions.
I'm not a psuedoskeptical irrantional madman like the image in your head. I simply think religion is obsolete and that science got ahead.
You better save your strength, for there's a rough battle to fight, this is a rap war, not five seconds in the spot light. You raps, they could fizzle, but they won't pop unless they're tight. Crap! I'm coasting again, I guess I filled myself with delight.
Aww, sentimentality, how cute, Ralph.
Time to put that back on the shelf.
Don't play with my toys, sharing's not caring.
Just ask the other boys, they were more daring.
Bring your own toys, Wrick, if you want to play
Turn down the noise, prick, you have nothing to say
It's white noise to me, pleasant to hear
but devoid of meaning, it just splashes your ear
To be fair, you're in the top three of rappers I've fought.
But as you know, that position is quite easily bought.
Question: who taught you to rhyme, Doctor Seuss?
Every word you say is just tightening a noose
If there's one thing that's impressed me, it's your tenacity
You hang on to your opponent, but fight with no veracity
In lack of competition you've gone mild
Now you're losing to a child of the wild!
Yes, that's right, you called yourself a park ranger
But Yellowstone's my backyard, I'm not a stranger
To the woods and plains, desert and rivers
I've gutted animals and held their still-warm livers.
So you barely make rhymes, not even in one block.
I'll dash my head into a stone before you're ready to rock.
You're lacking subject matter, is your last name Spock?
I'm waiting on you're contention with a tic and toc.
You write five stanzas like you're actually taunting me.
That's just an extra hunk of flesh, there's no quality to your quantity.
You're caveat's arbitrary, what if I said that I wanted three?
I write what feels right, I own that shit and I flaunt it free.
Holding living organs makes you a psycho, not strong.
What's wrong? did you hit a bong before making this song?
That must have been your Hail Mary, cause it went a little long.
The story you embarked it missed the mark on every prong.
Your rhymes are way out of whack
bringing up Spock because you lack
the ability to rhyme and stay on track.
Your old age leaves you without any knack.
I'm glad your profile's no longer an elephant
instead, you insult something less relevant
to my sphere of life, these Lemon Demon guys
I listened to some, try Linkin Park on for size.
Three's just fine for me, I don't get stuck in a pattern
My way's aren't as fixed as the orbit of Saturn.
You managed to change up your game the fourth round
But try not to rely on this new "skill" that you've found.
You say new trick like I've never had any.
Out of all my battles you have read how many?
if it was more than one, then you would know that I have plenty
of switches in my styles your one can't beat my twenty.
Lincoln park is basic and lemon demon is just one guy.
Only teenagers embrace it and mine will stand the test of time.
You probably didn't like it because your music skills don't stand too high.
I was shredding speed guitar solos when you were still the size of a dime.
Neil Cicierega, from Potter Puppet Pals? Hah!
Quality entertainment, but his music? Nah.
We're down to one because you think quality and quantity are exclusive
I hope this single stanza doesn't feel too intrusive.