[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!