Polteageist vs Bartender - Rap Battle

[Verse 1: Polteageist (LittleFlecks)]
Excuse me sir, fancy a cuppa? No? That's fine
Not your cup of tea to be served I see when all your costumer’s drinks suffice
Like any man who would line to your establishment must be hammered as fuck
Slamming down glasses then smashing them up, with the 'stache I'm surprised you can’t handle a bar
You popped off like champagne, but not long 'til they ran away
And dropped off this Flash game like wrong shots with a bad taste
A so called mixologist can't make a proper drink (No!), all of it is just little kids calling clicks
If you're pulling my lines, then I'm dropping in like a 16 ton weight on the top of this
The flyest tea monster with no saucers needed, because I'm a ghost that's haunting the scene
And I froze all the Pokémon that swallowed my tea, so I don't need your ice to have frost on the beat
Front the eight, five-five, my stuff is made from the fine kind
With a cup a day I can run the nation, provide the chai, so that’s why
I’m a straight hood classic of British towns, English Breakfasts in the city crowds
I'm winning the gold, and then bringing a trophy, and still have my pinky out
So cheers, come on, get a glass!
It’s your final day, let's spend it with class!
I care for my drink, you tear yours apart
Let's see if a bartender can tend a bar

[Verse 2: Bartender (Chris Harris-Beechey)]
Ugh... someone call the bouncer, awful pot is on the mic
With Scooby-Doo shenanigans... (JUST SERVE 'EM!) Fine...
Out of all the drinks I’ve served, this spirit dawns as the most dreadful
Sat in a brew for 20 odd years, I'm sick from the thought of this ghost vessel
I'm shook, since I fought a ghost, no. I meant drinks I can bomb this foe
With some Vodka both in the juice, topped with some frozen cubes, God can bestow me while dawned in gold
'Cause that flow was top of the line, maybe after a couple of pints
I'd swallow your type, well no, it's still rotten inside
Your flow is just awful, while I can have all the alcohol stacked on the rack
And then back 'em with shots, and some tap, and a bottle of Jack
And some Vodka, I'd be less hammered than Casper of Cracked Pots
A swirl, and you're actually sloshed
Battle this monster batched to the last drop of tea, 'cause it lacks the flow to combat on this beat
Daiquiri, cognac, brandy, the master of flows, this shadow is beat

[Verse 3: Polteageist (LittleFlecks)]
Let me spill the tea, you suck. You can't handle this cup!
Better add in some rum, or just splash in some bub, have a lemon too, you need acid, bruv. (Euuugh)
Let me pour you a flow, though caution, it's cold
You'd feel nauseous and choke from a proper made flow
'Cause the littlest sip of my tea will be chilling degrees
That will have all of your innards deep freeze
In all the lists I've gathered, there's only one you're topping
It's the number one guest of Alcoholists Anonymous
A host of pots, and I'm mooching on great tea
While your whole noggin is looking like a baked bean
Toss your gin and tonics, all that awfully off shit doesn't please me
The populace hopping from pubs to cups, 'cause they want this leaf being. I'm a true G in teas!

[Verse 4: Bartender (Chris Harris-Beechey)]
I ought to toss you in the basin, for that verse was quite the grime
Through all the moss accumulated, I'd rather shatter fine china
Galar came with animations, but were wooden stiff in battle
I've seen more active movements through a stream of Glimwood Tangle
Find authentic kinds of pots, the type that's often chipped away
It's ironic, the dead's entitled to a living space
Bag it like a Lipton, mate, you've overstayed your welcome
The bouncer will take you out, all complaints, you can tell 'em