Page 2 of Krist and Moanie
“You up here tryna spar with a poet, but I do more than write like a killer
Another filter, told you I’m like a thriller
You could never go bar for bar with me because I’m way too iller
Ain’t nothing about you deep, just another loud ass nigga with a weak script
Type to have your girl quoting my shit because she listened too deep.”
My words hit like bullets. Because by the time I finished, that man looked like he needed a break, but I wasn’t done. He was in disbelief because the very people who had cheered his victory against his first opponent were going crazy for me. I laughed athis incredulity then handed Seer back the mic and went to grab my cup. Nothing he could say would move me. Because shit like this was done in my sleep.
It was almost like he didn’t want the other round, but his biggest mistake was that he took it. He had the mic in his hands, waving one of them back and forth like he was talking with his hands. More like hand mumbling. That shit was hard to listen to, because at this point it was probably gonna be the last time I allowed them to put some amateur nigga in front of me. I needed a challenge… and this wasn’t it.
The mic was in my hand once again and this time my goal was simple. Finish him off and leave no crumbs. Body his ass and go home.
“You still here? Up for round two
I’m still calm, ain’t broke no sweat
And here you go, swinging all wild while I cocked my shit
Aiming for the neck, no recovery, knocked an artery.”
I used my hand like I was aiming a gun in his direction, then laughed, deciding to keep shit unserious.
“You rap like you googled what to say, no threat assessment necessary
I write pain in these margins, watching niggas like you internet flex
Every bar I ever spit been a loaded confession
Yours? Yeah, you got AI writing all your aggression
You from the heights? Cool, I’m from where the demons play
And those weak ass lines you delivered will get you a coffin stay.”
Then I stepped into his face for dramatic effect, making clear eye contact with him before I delivered my last lines.
“I break you niggas down, exposing all the fake skins
Your whole style is borrowed, want me to name your inspirations
Rapping like you almost cold, but ain’t never been able to hold it
Your mask, I see through it
No danger, mystique, or shit
You just another nigga they convinced to come up here
Unaware they were ending your career.”
Hands together, with the crowd going nuts, I maintained eye contact, making sure he felt that shit. Yep, he heard me because not only had hatred filled his eyes, but he backed up and waved off the L.
“Ay yo, Where the demons play? That shit just bodied,” Ben boasted, throwing his arm around my shoulder. Seer walked up to me, shaking his head.
“You gotta let a nigga at least feel like he won a round, Krist.”
