RAAAAAAAAAAAP BAAAAAAAATTTTTLLLLLLEEEEEE

[Okor]

Alright, checkit.

You're up against the O.G, that's Okor Gletch
Kept from the grave thanks to pappy Nurgleth.
Only thing sharper than my fangs my wit,
but nonetheless you're still gonna get bit.
Got a maw full of rhymes and teeth,
and you're just so much dead meat.
My bars stick and burn like napalm,
While your flow is becalmed.

You know I drop these beats like a virus bomb,
leave you weeping for your mom,
but she's with me gettin' Nurgle's love.
Preexisting conditions: All of the above,
But when your push comes to my shove,
you'll be disposed of.

I got ten millennia on your punk asses,
a body bloated with corpse gasses,
and I aint diggin' your weak sasses.

So bring your A-game,
with your rhymes: Lame,
Your innovation: More of the same,
Your brain already tryna pass the blame.
I'll move on to infinite acclaim,
As I set this thread aflame,
while you all lower your heads in shame.