LORD METH:

Before the first hit of the track I already spat/
A dope verse that your brain accumulated last./
Thats really fast, incase you cant see the graph,/
Im slicing ur thoughts in twos like cutting C's in half./
Read the passage of the scriptures I rip thru,/
And subliminal messages God can't even weave thru./
My boast and swag reigns top most within my class/
And in English, you were a clear cut to finish last./
Dont get me started, Math? Your addition skills made me laugh/
to the point the teach felt bad and just let him pass./
Your mind is useless so its tossed in the trash/

EL MATADOR:

My mind was designed for crime, leads you like a puppet to a dead end
First punchline shines, leaving you blind with your eyeballs shredded
My rhymes rip your brain like chainsaw did to Pepe Serna's head and
I transmit puns so raw, untamed and dreadful
Even Jigsaw couldn't rig such trick so deranged and awful
You're too weak to step to me, g, you have no power to pursue
I'm so ahead of you
So better use the 32x telescope zoom
Cos that's the only way you can see me, dude
Passage thru those scriptures is a parallel to hell
You said even God can't weave thru, oh well
Just because over there I crucified the Lucifer
Ooops.. you left your ghostwriter's rhyme book on shelf
So better put the mic down before you hurt yourself

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------

LORD METH:

You claim I have a ghost writer, you need his help/
You cant make a decent rhyme not even by youself./
Your record wont flop. It'll be up high in the shelf/
Safely away from us like a guy with fading health./
When I'm on fire, your bones and flesh will just melt/
Ill reduce you to raw energy and nothing else/
And you'll be my Servant in Hell like Santa's elf/
Where I'll beat you with more lines than Planter's sell./
Well, I kno I'm skilled but I'm just telling you now/
You went up against the boss, there's no bailing you out./
Slammed the hammer on your foot with the nail and you shout./
God looking down on you now with Heaven in doubt./
Heed your horses and count. Lightning just flashed./
With your back turned, your luck went right up your ass./
And in a lineup Ill kill you despite of the glass/
Truth be told your my son, conceived you in the past./

EL MATADOR:

Duel of iron swords, my mic will shine like Excalibur
My punchlines will blow your brain like Harry’s 44 caliber
When you spit, you get too reckless
Your blind eyes transmit fear, you got reason to be restless
Cos Matador gets ratless, squeezing the mic in my clenched fist
You're an easy target like a redneck from Damascus
I'll introduce you to the bigger massacre than at Virginia campus
Your world will crash down like I just killed Atlas
Your pathetic-ass rhymes made you self-wrecker
Counter of your fails goes up faster than a taximetre
You released my raw energy, dancing with death like a pirouetter
Dog, you're in fire only after eating a chilli pepper
It's your over Meth when you see me slowing down time like Max Payne
To picture your last breath of agony in the rain
This is your chamber of pain, you can feel ensconce
I'll make you suffer so long like waiting for Ntg to response

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LORD METH:

When Lord Meth speaks you better listen/
If you dont, its immediate punishment by hours and hours of dissing/
So quit bitching and digging your nails/
In my skin when Im grabbing you and, condeming you to hell/
Dont yell cuz there's no help coming for you/
My blade's been anxious to see you, even killed a few/
In the following week of watching you closely/
Now that I got you, I'ma savor this moment slowly/
Picking my points of penetration with precise aim/
But rapid speed, can't believe my shirt didnt get stained/
Oh the pain from the insane blade/
Puncturing your flesh and severing all your veins/
When I'm done with you/
Your gonna look like swiss chesse between a bun or two/
I'm having fun with you!/
Lyrical Horrorcore mentally damage your being/
Is the result of what happens when Lord Meth is MCing/
You beating me? That's reversed for you/
I got five fingers but one is reserved for you./
My tounge is a gadget that spits, dispersing words/
But my methods of rapping are more diverse than yours./

How is it possible that I can exhibit taste/
A technique so deadly Rakim would be scared to imitate?/
I destroy variables and mathematics/
Redefined your physical structure with automatics/
Shred verbs and abuse all the adjectives/
Use all sorts of metaphors to tell how much ass you give/
Shitting on rappers without taking laxatives/
Although I do whip my ass with their raps I rip/
Facts you live:You aint no goon. you aint no thug/
You eat on shrooms, you choke on dick, you on some drugs/
So to all you scrubs you who act tough and really bully/
But spit rhymes that expose you really pussy/
Please Dont come near me/
Or else Ill be forced to stick a orange cone in your ear and scream can you hear me?!/
Be careful where you step cuz now ur entering hell/
and its just past this abyss where ur fellow men fell/