Round 1:
Alright Step Easy, fuck rematches, I’m even surprised they booked a flight
Oh shit, wait a minute, my bad, all you generic multi bastards look alike
Alright Greeley
So many different ways your name fits your face
That added suffix to “grill” clearly portrays your most visible trait
You look like you sound like the sound a baby gremlin would make
That face says you eat straight off a greasy grill, instead of a plate
And you would resemble an illiterate grizzly, if somehow he rapped but misspelled his name
People look at your teeth, like it’s some great wonder
Probably cause with grills like that, you remind them of a stone-age hunter
They’re all grinding outwards like there’s no space under, you a cocaine muncher?
Personally, I look at your teeth and think it’s fucked up
That the child migration program took O’shea’s brother
He spent his growing days’ summers all over the states buckled
In a truck with dad
That’s when first chose to taste love with inappropriate hunger
That’s why this both ways bugger’s whole face is structured
O-shaped cos of glory hole breaks sucking off
Old gay truckers till his throat gained muscle
So strange how this bloke bakes supper in some home-made butter
Toe-scraped fungus from his soul mate mother when she exfoliates blubber
How you gon’ claim gutter, you’re a fucking gold chain tucker
Own paint huffing so I know you won’t spray nothing
But will go ape suffering from road rage every time he sees
The slow pace of a toll gate coming
He wants no delays between prostate jumping
In the pit stop stalls getting his hiphop on
Quick lock jaw when he sees a hip, he hops on it
This bitch top dog? Then dinner’s fixed, Jon, get hot sauce
Dingo meat’s a fitting feast for victory
Picnic scene, a flip’s cuisine, head chopped off
Please explain this, you’ve lived in two countries with more multi-cultural neighbors
So in a way I’m more ignorant, yet you’re still more racist
From trucking in the states to butt fucking in Australia
How’d you remain the equivalent of a redneck in such separated places
I understand he wants to stick to his roots that’s why he acts and looks like some savage criminal
Motherfucker’s so racist, he puts the “abhor” in aboriginal
Shit‘s real hopeless, national pride? he’s got some weird notions
He won’t ever cheer Bogut, but every NBA all-star game
He keeps voting for Keith Bogans
Censoring internet isn’t preventive of incest, but you are especially inbred
When England, your grandmother-land got in bed with uncle sam’s culture
And all this lead to a mongrel along with a long list of deformed genes
Yet to be categorized in any scientific index
Before this I hit the toilet, try to stretch and relax
But then regretted it after cos when I entered it, damn
I’d never imagine he’d warm up with a jenneke dance
Round 2:
It’s kinda like I got a world tour
Lose at Canada but invited to Rampage, so I’m still winning, eh?
You can get your world tour too If you play the gorilla in cahoots in that rampage video game
He also reps D. Corp, short for destruction corporation
But D.Corp sounds too close to Decoy
And y’all don’t need further destruction, much less from corporations
So all that title shows is how D. Corp is just another useless decoration
Bitch got low self-esteem multis, it’s like you know better schemes could be
Sewn expertly should he evoke clever speech, but his dome’s lethargy surely
Won’t let him think fully, so stretch the themes, rookie boasts letters stringed poorly
Fucking gross, lesser being pussy
I can tell you play politics in your scene, and it isn’t going well for dude
And usually, if you’re not a sick enough emcee, politicking is your next best move
Any person or team that’s burdened with scheming from the undeserving knows I profess the truth
It’s not just that I got a whole lot less to prove compared to you
You’re a breath or two away from destitute
Whether music or repping the movement your quest is screwed
So get to choosing a separate noose for your neck to fool with
Instead of fueling your head’s delusions with set excuses for revenue
Or it’s retribution, vessels spewing, all over your desk it’s pooling
I’ll reinvent a hue when your recommended architect’s confused having checked your
Reddish blueprints
Cos you leading a league, whether in position or through writtens, is such a pipe dream,
Which is precisely why you lost your job, and now it’s Mikee’s
Then y’all invite me? Shit, I guess y’all not fed up with being overtaken by Asians in Oz society
Australia is mostly an intact land mass
At least one of your twenty leagues should have united y’all If things were properly thought out
The Philippines is seven thousand plus islands, only one guy runs the league
Bitch I got shit locked down
And that’s not even including every Flip community that stops to observe from foreigners’ turf
The fuck y’all say I got no presence, y’all feel the effects from all corners of the world
And no you can’t use our population as an argument
Out of a hundred dialects, our main tongue isn’t even dominant among our provinces
But with the English language y’all can access demographics spanning several continents
Yet hardly anyone watches? Props, your own local audience thinks
The quality of your product is shit
You’re not a monster just cos your improper chompers make you look like a goblin cobbler
Your mom’s a lobster, both for her face and the aussie bank note cost to pop her
Your pop’s a peeping tom of toddlers
Obnoxious pauper’s off his rocker thinking this will be a slobber-knocker just cos he’s
A non-stop watcher of romper stomper
You can shout all your rounds but no victory celebration for you to shout all around
How much better is my game? Y’all can shout “all around”
Even when I send you to your grave you better shout all the rounds
Round 3:
Come on Greeley, before you got hyped you used to be at least top five
But you pump and dump your botched writing and a bunch of chumps overbuy so
It isn’t a market slump when we see your stock dive
No surprise when this gets online, the reasons besides the shares
Between you and I will be lopsided
So stop trying, the closest you’ll get to art is arthritis
A rottweiller’s harsh bite is harmless against the vet when he drops science
No shots fired when I use hot iron, just this dog lifeless, baked as pot pie, y’all should try it
Your face and voice are so gravelly we wouldn’t need special effects for you to play a rock titan
So you might be prominent with the tags, pieces, and bombing but I’ll go over your graffs like an economist
You beatbox? I beat boxes to nail the coffin lid
You scratch? My thoughts will get you to scratch your noggin and it’ll also spin your neck at 33 rpm to produce some horror shit
I’m not sure if you break dance but we can chop your body parts to bits, when the rigor mortis sets in every piece can Independently start a mix of both harlem shakes
You rock a set? It’s not just fraudulent, whoever’s watching gets bored to death cos even you
Sound like you’re about to sleep on your own bars when you rap on that yawning tip
Nondescript, he’s lost his head since he’s just as underground solid as that ostrich myth
Me, I see a patch of land and envision utopian standards
He sees a patch of land and just stands there
When my lines fly over heads, they’re causing sonic booms
When your lines, “fly over heads,” you get Aussie salutes
So if the difference isn’t clear, Greeley merely remixes what he hears
While I reinvent the wheel like I built a whip that spins on spheres
Check this
Sudden has-been when this bumpkin fad gets to rush his chances
No news, truth, reviews, understand he's another bastard whose
Gums enhanced to suck at rapping
So double back, why you here? tryna club a fat bitch
Known rubbish standards, such unattractive fumbled stanzas
That makes you a so dull it's tragic, a dusty
Mattress with ruffled fabric's got much more advantage summoning static
I’ll push that shit further
Cos nothing happens when this dumby's standing stuck in traffic,
Just blues, drool, reduce, i'm running laps while he coughs and gasps,
Tongue all tangled, lungs collapsing,
So shut your trap, why you here, just to fuck with garry?
That makes you a slutty battler, this subcontractor’s
Cunt’s elastic, I bet it's got an undiscovered labyrinth
Come all strapped with a hundred gats I’ll lunge in fast, knuckle sandwich, crush his larynx
Custom wackness when I leave you more def, dumb, and blind than if you
Were bumping Manaz
So status report, better clean up your vaginal walls
You got fucked up more than the tracks you record
Fuck shallow applause I’ll have your family mourn you
For being so naturally flawed and that’s what the real tragedy brought
