King of the Dot, Scott Free, Bender - Bender vs. Scott Free lyrics

Can you believe this shit?
He killed Chris Tipsy and
Absorbed his powers
It's like Highlander but for squeegee kids
Now everything around me cash rules
So, it's funny you go by Scott Free when
Ottawa sent me here to tax you
'Cause even if you cop beats from
Mobb Deep or Wu Scott
Free, you would probably get booed
Off and moose-jawed then bodied
Ya' too soft i said "Scotty throw a punch
" stupid went and tossed me a juice box
A decade deep in this rap
Shit I'm still heartless
Gon' be my face on the Wheaties box
His ugly mug on a milk carton
And I know your parents are
Hopin' for a daughter
They should've called up Henry Morgentaler
Look him up he's an abortion doctor


Got lines perfected
Dumb shit my style's the freshest
So try to son me I treat
You like Erik and Lyle Menendez
Get iced and deaded like cryogenics
Outshine my presence?
You have a better shot at George
Bush's signed confession to 9 11
Scott Free
You make John Cena sound like Sean P
You're a back up dancer like
Pac was for Shock G
And y'all need to cop Bad Information
That's my new record
Scott here fit three dicks in his
Mouth at once last night
That's his new record

Now before Loey told me
'bout Flight Distance
I'd never heard of y'all
That's cause your bars are as
Real as Decipher's murder charge
So I came to run game on a flabby bastard
Like Wayne Campbell I've waited
To slay a Stratocaster
See I, throw jabs at battle rappers
I'm lookin' at you like "let's brawl"
Stick Stratocaster with a Gibson
I'll smash you with a Les Paul
Yes dog, I've seen your battle with Baracuda
You were kinda nice but, your style is like
Kimbo's wife: vagina slice
And you almost 30 aight
So how are you such a nube?
You called Baracuda 'grandpa' and he's
Two years younger than you
Then you said you out for cheesecake
And couldn't put it better
'Cause this belly says you out to
Be a sugar cookie getter
Now without a beat or a DJ
I'd bang in both your ears
You look so much like Philly Freeway
I'm 'bout to Cassidy your career
'Cause that Bourgeois hood pass revoke shit
Would've been a slick diss
If the Squidmilker had a hood
Pass to begin with
So you don't end dreams like alarm clocks
It's clear that dude's frontin' you so
Easy to sleep through you more
Like the snooze button

Now I hope your son never sees this
Footage cause I'd feel kinda bad
'Cause he'd be like "Why did dad spend the
Little time we had with his writing pad
Then when it came time to actually battle
He rapped like a giant fag, it's kinda sad"
Now I told el Pesci-dente to
Bring me a hard rock
Got me a stepping stone
A candy raving grease pencil with
Cold sweats off of methadone
A sex degenerate that can't support
His family how he should
Scott's no mechanic but he's been known to
Pull a tranny out the hood
And if your lady needs to
Pay her way through college
My man there rhymin' might just put her
On her knees like she payin' homage
And if she's scantily clad like
Lady Gaga ya' baby mama's face gon' feel it
Trickle down like Reaganomics
Is that goin' over ya' head? You
Play fight with ya' rivals
I open sold-out events and give
Stage fright to your idols
This blood clot chump lost since the jump-off
This is like shootin' fish in a barrel
With a barrel full of buckshot
Yeah I know in the last
Battle Baracuda fish wasn't perfect
But at least he put a fight up
This fool is spittin' some nerd shit
The way I own this man
It's like the feudal system's resurfaced
And you call yourself Free
Isn't that just a euphemism for worthless?

I got a family and a mortgage
I almost forgot dude thanks
You're just pissed 'cause you're like 30
Live alone and shoot blanks
See that first spit was tired
Loe said you had talent
But, I'll smack Earth
Wind & Fire out this bootleg Kap Kallous
Like, why are you still at it?
Don't you think you should roll
Off before I turn that big cabbage
To a grande cold slaw
'Cause good Lord you're not ill
Your lame flows are too basic
You wouldn't get a deal on a
Game show full of suitcases true statement
None of us like your sloppy raps
You're the only one that thinks
You're ill you hypochondriac
See I get type vicious start
Kickin' up some dust
Forget Flight Distance you lucky you get
A ticket on the bus
You made the mistake of thinkin'
Scott Free's a rookie once i'm a douche bag
I came to clean this pussy up
I've dropped a lot of flows since
I had a snotty nose
Your ass gon' feel this shit like the
Toilet's occupato and you gotta go
My show's electric, as Hendrix
And you know what happened after
'Cause, I don't just bend her
I smash a Stratocaster
Douse it in gasoline and flick
Matches at the bastard

Now he's just bummed out
'cause his woman looks
Like me with crooked teeth and Hook disease
Wouldn't even cook or clean, which one
Of you's got the pussy, free?
You're womanly, sugary, shook
You catch feelings
I right hook ya' jaw so hard
The back row can catch fillings
See, I'm a grimy type of bastard
Fuck a sucker punch I can slap
Ya' lights out like The Clapper
My one liners are gunfire
Burn from a burst of ammo
He went from a nerd in
Dirty flannel shirts and
Sandals to a herbish asshole
Purchasin' urban camo
Where the fuck did you learn to battle?
You bearing witness to some scary business
I'll take a pair of scissors and tell
This parasitic fairy where to stick it
You beatin' me? It's like Hare
Krishnas wishin' Merry Christmas
I'd feel guilty
This shit's like cherry pickin'
In the Paralympics
And he might get on a gangsta tip once he's
Drank a bit but he ain't shankin' shit
He only gets violent when he spanks his kids
Can't hang with this, motherfucker I go deep
Sorry Scott, your name's the only thing here
That ends with 'OT'
So how you gonna rock with me?
You make Roch Voisine look like a
Striker from the Rock Machine
Go piss up a rope
You see what happens when you push me?
I got a C-section philosophy
That means I'm not goin' out a pussy

You just keep talkin' 'bout winnin'
See I thought respect was more important
But who'da known that Al Borland
Was such a poor sportsman?
So I'm not here 'cause I think
You've got cool rhymes you poser
I'm just surprised I thought you died
When Tool Time was over
See, I'm a savage cat
With battle raps for Stratocaster
Keep the French cats in the
Back snappin' like 'Tabarnak'
Matter of fact
I'm here for slicin' throats kid
You get ya' head chopped
I bet that beard is hiding
More chins than a sweatshop
You bet not claim to hustle hard
'cause you not a boss bitch
You roll with a smaller stash
Than Hitler's top lip
So pop shit, talk slick or
Gossip, get caught quick
Socked in the jaws like a hostage
That's it, your style is the wackest
You're a horrible rapper
You're like Brad Pitt's Italian
Accent in Inglourious Basterds buongiorno
So I will stare you
Straight in the face as I prepare to
Carlton Fisk your fuckin' head
Like the Bear Jew i dare you
To come from the nation's capital in
Order for me to beat ya'
This chicken came with corny raps
Yo Loes you ordered me fajitas
Bring any phony dude from your staff
Or pretenders to the fuckin' brawl
And I'll get both you
Boobs mashed together: Wonderbra
You such a bitch son
Now put your fuzzy chin up on my balls
So I don't need to hit the strip club
To get my dick sucked in Montreal