Rates - Rappertag #12 | Season 2

[Intro]
Yo, Rates One. Shoutout to Greeley for the tag. Let's go

[Verse]
Pass it to me, I'll target the beat like a carcass to eat
I'm up for the task to compete, and I'm far from your reach
I'm a phone bomb in a crowded street; I'm so wrong
And just foul on beats, bound to drown in heat when I'm about to speak
It's verbal acrobatics; I murder rappers in a second
And I take him out the back to the paddock, burn him, then I drench him with petrol
I'll get the flames up, "Now, what you fucking say, cunt?"
I'm a family man and dedicated to my clan from day one
I'm a funny drunk that your mum wants to hump I'm a fucking cunt
When it comes to cunts, I'm just done with running amok
But when I gamble now I double it up
So when I walk out, I'm angry, looking for a rapper or someone to punch
And now the trouble's begun, 'cause there's that rapper talking like he's always pumped with a gun
Ask him about it, and the cunt starts to run
Now this is typical or am I hypocritical?
There's anger in my veins and then the pain, it is residual
Never one for the Clone Wars, you got your legs open
And you should close yours, that kind of attitude will close doors
You pose for the pictures, flickering in the distance
When you close your eyes, you wake up and it's gone in an instant
And everything's just dissipated, look at me, I'm falling off
Due to some non-participation, but me, I'm just sitting, waiting
Till the fucking system's blazing, this shit's amazing
I told them ages ago, but they told me I'm a skitz' and patient
In a matter of a year, an experiment will stick your vein
Actually it's insane how the news it gets in your brain
Sorry that I'm feeling like you're jumping right up in a train
Either I see it for what it is, or I've lost it again
But anyway, not today, it's not the topic
Hard to talk to everybody when everybody has lost it
And I don't give a fuck about some clothes or how much they cost
They want us all dumbed down, our soul faded and lost
Straight to the shop for the next thing that they make in a box
Label it as something you need, just like taking a shot
Back to this rap shit with more verbal backflips
All this cancel culture, should be cancelling this wack shit
I'm a fucking beast when it comes to rap, [?] punching back
You feel the weight of my soul, [?] it's something they lack
I rap for cunts in the back; I ain't afraid to speak
My mind, I got big nuts in my sack and I'll tell cunts that they're wack
Look at these politicians, trust me, man, they're slimy cunts
Look at these Big Pharma companies for whom you're lining up
Look at these rappers, just acting, they don't really fight and stuff
They just think that fighting's tough, when they more than likely run
Well, time has come, I kill instrumentals for fun
I raise my two kids properly, and I raise 'em with love
Fucking crazy what this place has become, kind of can make you a cunt
I find it can make you better if you not afraid of the front
The devil works in mysterious ways, making a jump
Making you think you're all that, ego crazy as fuck
Have a go at this place, now what a piece of work
I try to find some clarity, but all these demons lurk
They breach the earth and now they're feeding on the people's purpose
What an evil circus, they didn't need a disease to murk us
Get 'em, because you know that I'm protective
You know that I ain't ever gonna listen to a directive
When it's all been shady from the start like a detective
And you can't blame me if I go against the collective, so check it

[Outro]
Yo, next up, we got Smak. Kill it, brother