Anygma vs Step Easy (Anygma's Rounds)

King of the Dot: World Domination 3

Round 1:

So what's it gonna be Step, same bland plays again?

Staple past-battle flat angle, as if that math favors him?

Take a jab at a main event, attach latest trend, saturated inaccurate Asian diss?

Mister rap Rambo with blank ammo

I bet you know Guelph has the second lowest crime rate, my friend

Lost to Arcane, and no need to look farther than our names to know who's taking this

What, you'll go ham-murderous?

More like hamsterish, all caged and fed

Go beast mode? Oh please don't, call me after I'll be with the rest of the sapiens

And it's strange, that during every sentence displayed, you're tentatively checking for any praise

Focus straying from the center of the stage like you're second guessing the occasion

And you hyperventilate but hide your breath mistake as some sly effect delayed

Then you do this odd skiing motion with your arms as you pace and all it suggests is that you wanna escape quick

So you speed up that elemetary cadence, shit doesn't change, it's plain and simple, this Step is simple and plain

And the more he pretends that he ain't, he merely cements the impression that he's unashamedly basic

Blame me for being born in a different place if I stick to the way things are meant to be shapened

But my considerate nature disintegrates when you're reinforcing your pigmentation so much

You're even making me racist

Rocking that mullet wig in the video blog as if your normal face doesn't already look like a rapist

So fuck you, and fuck your criminally predictable takes, that complacently ignorant fake grin,

That infinitely pedophilic gay chin

The kid whose dick clearly impaled him

So dumbed down, while giving brain his aim missed so his point caved in

You fuck around, no one's complaining

You circle your own traces, chasing your own tail

And you wouldn't zero in even if you were an Indian innovation

I'll craft a round with a paintbrush

Perfect in equation, easy as Pi, down to every single decimal placement

So if the crowd or the judges take it Easy then they're easily mistaken

He can't beat me cos when I really Step up to the plate, this shit's difficulty level Asian


Round 2:

[He's gonna talk about my accent and how he can't understand it when I rap,

Muthafucka, that's just a single concept among the million others that your dumbass can't grasp]

As a Hiphop head I've dreamed of making heavy beats

I'll take it a Step Easy and bang your head with an MPC

He thought he had a pressed CD when he picked one up and gently squeezed

Let's test his weed, I'll bet it's weak

If not, at least I'll get it free

Or set a keg and see whose intestines bleed

What, you'll flex a pen? You idiot that's not how that weapon's wielded

But if we scrapped, I'd leave you drenched in pee again

Like when he couldn't help his drinking, in the restroom pissing himself,

The floor, god-slapped by Hollohan and you soaked it all up like he sent you cleaning it

You can battle endlessly and your bland ass would still need seasoning

Shit, even the best MSG in your recipes couldn't fix your steez, bitch

And y'all say he's an underdog? Underdog?

Fuck it, you still get bludgeoned, all cut and tossed with onions on a buttered wok

Even Calicoe wouldn't want to watch

Yo, battlers often mention film look-alikes, I said I'd try if given the choice

Checked online but couldn't find or pick, was getting annoyed

Until I realized, you're in every movie with a pizza delivery boy

And I'd diss you for being Canadian but I got too much love for King of the Dot

It's just, y'all call french fries "poutine" and that's the weirdest shit that we bought

Below six feet deep, I built my scene from the underground up

I'll skip the speech, it simply means you were outdone long before round one

Bitch emcees would kill to be this fittingly proud, son

But him fulfilling dreams or me being a disagreeably loud chump

Are both as unlikely as Aftershock's fan page hitting a thousand

I'm Filipino, muthafucka, but ain't a patriot demanding your respect

Just mix us Asians up, you're getting check by 'em demographics back in Guelph

I ain't a China-man, Thai, Korean, Jap, or all the rest

But y'all would think that I'm Mongolian the way I trample over Steppes/steps

I put my country on my back and on the map that you neglect

Organik's laboratory test baby-stepped out of Ground Zero and you'll cover zero ground

When I crash land you back to that catastrophic wreck for your mandatory death


Round 3:

[Yo, he brought up my acne, it's alright, it's all good, I ain't bitching

But what about your face, man? You fucked that shit up despite first world nutrition

He's gonna talk shit about my country, that's some dumb shit

Man, if my whole population took a piss, your half of the planet would get flooded]

His name says it all, nothing complex

Linear, instructional, rigid, ain't tought to get

Drab as a manual, effortless in the lazy sense

From threads to flesh to text, you're uninventive at best

That avenue you rep, you share with ten million other men

As it's so commonly spread

Tyler Peter's real name might as well be human number X

Cos nothing's added when this punching bag gets his dozen matches

Not views, moves, recruits,

Understand he's another stat to pump up rappers  to come and practice

So cut the crap, why're you here, for the love of battling?

No other plans, no tours or tracks, won't drop an album?

That makes you a dumb attraction

The sum example why your country's fans would rather catch Summer Madness

Cos you're the Medussa of genericness, and not cos you scare people stiff

Just the moment anyone looks at you, they can't help but think of unadulterated generic shit

All your past opponents know this, but I'll brave the step

Even pointing out how generic you are becomes generic in itself

But I guess, what else can we expect? You'll never seem impressive

You can't adapt or evolve from all your easy steps

I took a plane to fight

You'll never earn your wings but this "L" will spell the difference

Watch his reptilian brain choose f(L)ight

Fucking hillbilly drunk, can't shout as much, but thinks he's the dopest

That's the path you've chosen? Well, congrats on being a really poorman's Porich

KOTD works mad great, but this short-stacked player's a god damned waste of all that paper

And an Easy Step to success is to drop bad weight from costs and labor

And since I'm back on track, like I simply crossed that fader

I'm here to grant the bossman's favor and cut you out the league with Occam's Razor

So until he busts a filthy cut and kills beats plus juggles feeding a hundred-fifty

Hungry emcees in crumby settings, this bumpkin sissy can't fucking Step to me


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