Watch the battle here.
Round One
Soul
So, they're like, “Soul, you think Caustic’s gonna play you for a mark?”
Doesn't matter. This’ll be the last battle they do on the card.
Then I seen we’re on day one. This should’ve been day two from the start,
‘cause if he try punk me, we’ll have to host day 2 in a park.
‘Cause I ain't fuckin scared of you, and I don't care how hard I hit.
I don't care how big you are and I don't care who started it,
‘cause when Bigg K put it on him, we seen him start to shit
and make more excuses for the third round than Charlie Clips.
Like, “Listen to me, K. Listen to me, K.”
Your voice is filled with broken glass; how'd we listen to it break?
I mean, we're similar in ways. We both got pushed by someone bigger than us, mate,
but the difference is you bitched out and I hit you in the face.
So b-b-b-bully who? You think I'm actually shook of you?
Well I’m not, cause you'd bully him, but theres no way that he'd bully you.
And they say you're not a bully anymore ‘cause a bully bullied you,
but you pick and choose who you bully, and that’s exactly what bullies do.
So he's gonna try intimidate me, and I’ll just stand staring.
I don’t know who the fuck that this man thinks this man scaring.
But being overly offensive ain't really my— I'm playing,
translation: he’ll get wopped in his boat like his grandparents
You can't visit your grandad without a fucking fleet of submarines.
Your baby mum is peak. Guess that’s some shit she never learned before.
Your whole ancestry died on the boat, why the fuck she still got scurvy for?
She's like your great grandmum, ‘cause she a dirty whore with herpes sores,
and a bloated up guido that washed up on Jersey shore.
Further more, your kid’s ugly. Stop posting pictures with that little bitch.
She fell out the ugly tree, hit every single twig, then got pistol whipped.
I got a next bar, and the RSPCA are gonna be pissed at this,
but when she gets older, you’re gonna need a lot of makeup for that guinea pig.
No man will ever wanna be with her.
Oh wait, its a boy? That’s even worse.
It’s no surprise. Look at how that faggoty wop’s been reared.
His mum’s strang out on rock with Cadalack Ron,
and you’re just mad ‘cause she copped his gear.
She’s like the Fourth Birthday bouncer, ‘cause she got sacked from her job this year.
She went cable and they were like, “Damn, she's the nastiest dog in here.”
Caustic
He’s talking shit about my son.
Those are some great bars. I mean, that was fucking great man.
I mean, what are you gonna fight him next?
I’m pretty sure you’re in his weight class.
I’m in a whole nother league, so it don’t matter what you say,
‘cause you were only good for one event: you’re like Battle of the Brave.
And I don’t want to spend the whole fucking battle
talking about this shit for half a day,
so let’s go ahead and get all this obvious shit right out of the way.
Right before you hit me, I swear to god someone screamed “pillow fight”.
So you want to try again, go ahead and try it, bitch,
but I don’t know why you act violent,
especially when your tiny fists are fucking softer than dryer lint.
I’m kind of sick, dog, and I’m not into taking losses,
and I’ve never seen you fight, but you giving fucking excellent face massages.
You mention the fucking punch every battle. Okay, that's enough.
He’s so fucking proud of that cheap shot; you brave little cunt.
Then you fucking turned tail and ran like a bitch
‘cause I wasn't phased by the punch;
luckily for you, I know how to be the bigger man, in more ways than one.
You tried to save Jeff and you made him look weak.
You gave me your best punch and I ate that shit like a G.
If I could go back in time, I wouldn't change a thing
‘cause I’m willing to bet, if the shoe was on the other foot,
I bet that little Jeffy P wouldn’t hesitate to do the same thing to me.
That’s real shit. That’s why I’m killing this faker.
See, violence ain’t the only way that you can deal with a hater.
See, you’ve barely broke a hundred thousand views in your life,
and just to keep it real with you, player,
if I would’ve hit you back, you would’ve woke up a fucking million views later.
Look at this shit; you see that?
That’s just like your whole style, dog, it’s just fucking smoke and mirrors.
If you would’ve never hit me back then, nobody would even know you’re here.
I dictated your next move; I’m your evil overseer.
Kim Jong-un: I’ve got power over Seoul, Korea(Soul Career).
If I ever see you in the States, then I’m dropping his ass.
I’m known to dissect motherfuckers like a biology class.
I got a snub thirty-eight that’ll body this fag,
and I keep that shit on my waist like a colostomy bag.
And I forgot one, but I don’t give a fuck, ‘cause I’ll let the pistol smoke.
I’ll leave you floating in a river, bro.
My guns got a secret they promised not to tell a living Soul.
Round Two
Soul
He said he’s got power over Seoul like Kim Jong-un. That’s the shit that he on, man?
Bruv, King Jong-un’s for North Korea. You should know that from your peon gang.
Arsonal and Verb are the two big names who have faced him
and both times, that was you replacing Shotty ‘cause he couldn't make it.
So if you ever think your’e ever fucking getting the chain,
that’s cute, but the only time the staff ever mention your name
is when Gully’s like,
"Some say Shotty isn't gonna show up, and that’s what the talk is about,”
and Organik’s like “Fuck. Is caustic around?
Well its clear… What we do here...
is take back the deposit that’s down in Shotty’s account, cause it to bounce,
then book the cokehead racist for a quarter of the amount.”
Now thats unfair… but you still there...
because you’re a clown, obviously down,
thick any chance you get
to call black people moolies without them knocking him out.
Bruv, you and Cadalack Ron have the exact same fan base.
He's like, “Come on, how can I have hate for a man’s race?
Some of my best friends wear black face.”
So when your klan mates had the word, they were pissed, G.
Heard what happened in Atlanta, that you got turned into mincemeat.
Ain’t them the ones normally that light crosses and burn Mississippi?
Then how the fuck’s the racist the one getting burned by a Big T?
Look, you called Big T a chunky monkey. Are you dumb?
Then you called John John a slave. Bruh, that’s too much.
Well you're in inner city London; they gon rush him, man, this dude’s fucked.
Open up those old wounds, they'll open up some new ones.
Listen, I talked to the rapper that sold you coke last time he was in this town.
He said he was looking at you like you look at Big T.
“Shit, that guy’s three-hundred-odd pounds.”
Then you said you wanted a discount? With what he'd snort up his snout?
If he gave you three percent off, he'd have to remortgage his house.
I'm saying nobody can take blow like their noses can.
Thrown out the club, and he don't play Kotal Khan.
He had to change soda brands, ‘cause he bought bare Cola cans,
and not one single one of them would share coke with Dan.
Caustic
You said your homie sold me coke; that’s just amusing to me.
I mean, have you ever fucking met me in your life?
Everybody knows I only do it if it’s free.
You clearly not the tough guy that you clearly pretended to be.
I’ll never accept defeat from some little weirdo with yellow teeth.
We may be cool tomorrow, but tonight, I’m here as your enemy.
I only came to cross the line like Syrian refugees.
Why you picking on me for? Maybe you want to try someone more your size.
He’s the cheap victory type. I know the type.
He’s the sort of guy that picks Oddjob every time on GoldenEye.
No proximity mines, he goes straight for the golden gun stage.
I met you before; I know this fuckface.
Are you this ugly all the time, or you going through a rough phase?
You got Kurt Cobain’s hair and Courtney Love’s face.
So it’s Fresh Coast. Your pen game - less dope.
Real men don’t watch Death Note.
Your whole persona’s based on some Japanese kids’ show.
Little bitch, I bet you get your hair done by Fresco.
What’s it like being a bitch, dog? I’m asking for a friend.
He writes a couple bars about cartoons and he’s a savage with the pen,
so, welcome to another episode of “Anime with Jed”.
Or maybe he’s gonna tell us about the time he went to Canada.. again.
Oh, and you made a friend. Oh, he’s in a long-distance relationship.
Be honest, bro, how fucking stupid do you feel every time you say that shit?
No? They’re called groupies, dog,
you aren’t supposed to wife them up and date the bitch.
The only reason he even still talks to Organik
is ‘cause he can’t afford to pay for trips.
Don’t you find it strange as shit that you and you girl’s whole relationship
is based on whenever the next World Domination is?
You’re five foot three, with fucked up teeth; who wouldn’t want to get with you?
I mean it’s Jed Mitchell.
His girlfriend blew more guys in ninety minutes than a Chelsea ref whistle.
He still try to tell people that he’s really the headliner.
Just ‘cause you lost to Cee Major doesn’t mean it’s okay to F Minors.
Oh, you don’t like it when I talk about your girl. What you staring at, bitch?
She’s sixteen years old, you can’t marry that bitch.
Every rapper in Toronto been sharing that bitch.
I will EMC / Mac Sherry that bitch.
You can’t cross the threshold; you can’t carry that bitch.
I got a Glock nineteen and I carry that bitch.
I will Ol’D.B. / Mariah Carey that bitch.
I will Bruce Almighty Jim Carey that bitch.
Round Three
Soul
If you buy into his shit, then you’re basically an idiot.
You’re talking about the shit I did; let’s talk about what I didn’t, bitch.
I didn’t switch on Arcane to get in with Diz; that’s snitchy shit.
I didn’t bullied into a Twitter bitch; that’s bitchy shit.
I didn’t think, “I’ll battle my good friend, then bring up his
dead homie, then shit my fucking pants when he say he’ll split my shit.”
That’s all bitch-made shit he did since our little incident,
but he wants to call me a little bitch? For swinging fists? That’s ridiculous.
“Aw, my daddy died when I was five.” Yeah, no fucking shit he did.
You wouldn’t be such a fucking spineless faggot if he lived.
Mister “it’s just words, it’s just words,” to cover up his ignorance,
then spit some shit sniffling, voice quivering; you’re a hypocrite.
fucking weekend dad taking him out in the car that he’s selling drugs in.
Can’t take him on holiday ‘cause you know you won’t get through customs,
but you can get busted
cheating on your wife the same day you battled Jeff in London.
Oh… This shit just got incredibly real.
Bruv, you want me to list off all the named that you attempt to conceal?
Talk about that phone call at Bam’s house; turn into the wrestling heel?
That’s what faggots like you do. This is real-life incredibly real.
This is your daddy being dead to you real.
Growing up without a father, and how you’re still effected by it real.
Being too young to even fucking make sense of it real;
doing the same shit to the kid that you’re a blessing to real.
Now that’s depressingly real.
Think about it: no father figure, juvenile detention appeals,
now you’re grown-up, weapons to peel, fucking heroine deals,
trying to avoid that second possession-with-intent sentence appeal.
I’ll do you one better: growing up with a fucking single mother prepping his meals.
Growing up with the same scars you have that never would heal.
Caustic
Well, that was fucking amazing. Look at this fucking guy, he’s literally shaking.
I mean, I think he only choked ‘cause he got nervous trying to picture me naked.
I wrote the book on this disrespect shit, dog. ‘Bout to open a chapter.
Cold as Alaska. Four-four leave your fucking dome in the rafters.
This is the final testament for anyone who said Soul been a factor.
Nah. Everything I write Will get money left behind, now that’s a sole benefactor.
Can’t fuck with me. Roll publicly with cold cutlery,
might get yourself stuck-up for acting so uppity.
No touching me; my whole company roll up with me.
Soul stole Loe’s whole flow so comfortably.
Claiming you fathered the style when you don’t even got sole(Soul) custody.
And your hoe knows what’s up with me. Tell that bitch I got some sperm to swallow.
You ‘bout to get knocked out your Timeline,
and not to Mention I got your Bird to follow.
This Soul faggot’s been acting sick; he’s not coming into work tomorrow,
or ratchets like Volkswagens: the death of Jed’ll(Jetta) be a German model.
All you talk about is The fucking Wire, every battle.
That’s where you get your little criminal raps;
his hero’s Omar, gay gangster that took dick in his ass.
You may be the champ over here, but to me, you a rookie still.
I’m more of a Sopranos guy. Talking through the wire ‘ll get this Big Pussy killed.
And now, unfortunately, there’s something I got to mention, y’all.
I mean, Soul always been on the up and up,
but after I saw this, I had to second guess him, y’all.
Somebody linked me to a post that you posted on a forum
and I can’t help but read it all,
where you went into detail about how you suffer from depression
and one day you almost tried to end it all.
What kind of depression? Could you picture him crying and stressing?
Giving all kinds of confessions to some licensed physician inside of sentence;
I swear to god,
every time you’ve attempted suicide it’s just another cry for attention,
but I find it pathetic,
‘cause there’s no such thing as a suicide attempt.
You either wanted to die or you didn’t.
You got problems with your life? Just accept that shit.
You crying about suicide online? I don’t get that shit.
Kill your fucking self. I don’t respect that shit.
Go somewhere and shoot your fucking self like a webcam bitch.
Your fate’s already been decided.
I mean the whole thought process behind it, it’s weak-minded.
I suggest you fucking fucked up the first time, then you re-try it.
If the noose slipped, then you get back on the chair and you re-tie it.
So why you talking to me?
I mean, you proved three years ago you ain’t boxing with me.
You almost bodied yourself, you’re supposed to body me?
Next time you try to kill yourself,
remember, it’s down the road, not across the street.
You are fucking pathetic. Pity party for one.
Go ahead and go home to your home Fife,
‘cause that whole fight says a lot about you, bro;
you’ve been running from your problems your whole life.
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