Blaze Battle 6.x

I know you bitche$ missed me while I was rollin wit my midget

Little Zoe had a fever but she still cute as Gidget

Course when Mama Doc's around the temp always be risin

That the Ice don't melt is the only thing surprisin

Now I'm down DC way in my fly black suit

It gives a great view of the Doc from front to glute

I'm savin lives wit my science, and slayin suckas on the run

Tonight all the finest playas gonna be callin 911...

Ice, forgive my temerity but I think you've exceeded your capacity
for coming up with rhymes that amuse or engage me
You say you high quality but I just don't see
it from these day-old, dusted-off lyrics you passin off to me

You always tryin' to front like my $hit ain't tight
but you more like Rev. Spooner, $hittin like my front ain't tight--it ain't right
especially when from front to behind the sight
of my curves carvin out swerves with my bike
cause even polite playas to lose they nerve
and just keep clockin me when they should be rockin
with me, the finest cyclin MC, the one they call Queen B

Boy, you tellin me your Heat feel twice as nice as Ice
You sure? You ain't just some second- or third-rate Bo Bice
outta place on the mic?
Then I say bring it -- it ain't no vice to roll the dice
when the prize is knockin B Gears off her bike
even though you gonna lose, you can dream all you like
Or maybe, just to be nice, while I'm catchin my breath you can hype--nothin more, cuz your rhymes is weak
don't try to serve me unless we on bikes and you my domestique
Those offers may seem meek but it's the best I can do now you hit your peak
Otherwise, son, I'm afraid your future's bleak

Blaze Battle 6.x

First of all, let me say yo rappin ain't even defensible
that clap-trappin leave me laughin as you "Say Wot" like Captain Sensible
think I'll call you in for blaze battle perjury
while they they subpoena me for my role in lyrical murder, G

Gonna take an army of lawyers to hold back this B killer
not to mention the voyeurs who watch as I spill iller
which, compared to you ain't a real tough beat
yo style so old it's classic - I may as well be listenin to Little Feat

If you don't like the Ice than take some a my heat
I got enough to melt the leatha off ya seat
'cept it ain't leather, it's vinyl
Ice be slammin the lid on this beat box, it's final

Blaze Battle 6.x

Yo Ice, didja miss me?
I'm back in black like AC/DC
I got nine lives, cat's eyes, don't act like you don't see me
crossin your path to take my place at the mic
and remind sucka cyclin' MCs to get off a they bikes

And bow down to me, put the Q to the B
cause it's plain to see that I'm a rapper supreme
and from the sky to the sea I rock the bike like a dream
Some call me Britney Gears, but you best call me Queen

It was the nature of Latifah to move on to Chicago
But don't bother reachin for the mic cause I'm already here, yo
tearin' up every gear with shifters from Shimano
ridin' so fast that drivers be callin the po-po

Queen Becktifah in the house rulin all that she see
Best get down on your knees and recognize me
Only place for Ice is on my tiara from Tiffany
Or the valve caps I rock on my Cross Wolf 700x32C

Ice, you think I can't write a hit?
You showin again that you don't know $hit
Me, I get PAID to point out where commas don't fit
My editing chops is as irresistable as my wit

You think you gettin the last word with me
then you ain't heard my words equal money
while you sittin at home in front of your teevee
hopin you can order fresh rhymes from off of QVC

Blaze Battle 6.x

Okay, so you tightened things up a bit
not that you evah got hopes of writin a hit
your tighty whites need whitenin up a bit
'cause when Ice take the mic I know it mean B gotta $hit

While you spout about my need for a corrective lens
I'll two-wheel it to Costco, buy you a bulk box a Dependz
some fa you and some fa ya friends
Ice git the last word, that's how it always ends

To stay on my wheel you needin fake hemoglobin
I bask in the limelight while you stay backstage dopin
you could join the rodeo, but my calves defy ropin
watch where I spit, you still gawkin - yo mouth's open

Blaze Battle 6.x

First, Ice say my rhymes is gettin too elementary
It's just that you seemed confused when my references got literary
Thought you might find it easier to understand when my lyrically
innovative tales were told more slowly and more simply

Or I maybe jus need to stick to subjects that you know
like the skin and bones style of Mies van der Rohe
or the 80-volume works of Cassius Dio
or your refusal to accept that you pedal real slow

But then you say you hungry for my lyrical treats B Gears aim to please
so grab a seat at my table and tuck into these beats
My legs are smoove like butter, my skin is peaches and cream
Anytime you served by me, boy you livin the dream

Blaze Battle 6.x

Gril, I'll eat yo lyrics for suppa
Ice Y make ya pee, go'n need the quicka picka uppa
thinkin you keen with words like veracity
betta eat mo beta carotene cause you lackin perspicacity

You say your hood is Woodberry? May as well and should be Mayberry
'cause not only is yo rhymes vanilla but they taste like Gayberry
left unda ya chamois pillow by the "I Heart Salt 'n Pepa" fairy
you rappin 'bout as rough as you cycle - not to mention your legs is hairy

so go grab a Bic while Ice take this fight to a higher level
that fool R. Kelly can suck my bik while I listen to your amateur drivel
I'll give you a head start of a mile while I kick back in style
My Lemond ready to take the lead when you fall to the bottom of the pile