This be EastGap's elite, with a beast rap complete,
All you Mitsuri hacks should just read that and weep.
I rhyme multiple syllables, you're the ultimate killable,
When I roast you weaklings, the results are just critical.
Mitsuri is an army? Man, I hope you're joking,
Because you lack severely in the flows for roasting,
You hoes are boasting? Well, what a sad shame.
You must be from Gaia, having such a whack name.
Diss the Droplet of Sour? I'll be dropping you cowards,
Learn to write before you step to us, you'll all get devoured.
Chun Wong, you done wrong, in more than one song,
Your crew lacks attack, all you whores can suck dong.
Peep game, you speak lame, so learn to write a rap.
Your fifth rate spit's fake, no way you turds are fighting back.
Come to the realization that you've got no dope flow,
Wish to Kyubey for it, become a Mahou Shoujo.

You blocked me 'cause you couldn't take the competition,
You be scared 'cause I always blaze the opposition,
Think you're sick? Your rap's a straight up contradiction.
Let's face it, Chun, you're a major flop at dissin'.
Your punches are stale, they're made of bunches of fail,
Once again will this clever lyrical pundit prevail.
My flow rips your head off, your army's cryin' for mommy (Mami?)
You ought to find a new hobby, your rap designin' is sloppy.
You think your flow is tight? You must be joking, right?
I'm like Material Sniper, the way I'm so precise.
You should throw the fight, because you're slow and trite,
And your rap's just another lousy show of spite.
I'm on my Nanoha, call it Lyrical Magical,
Your material's laughable, mine's empirically practical.
My craft is too arcane for you, and clearly it's masterful.
On the other hand, you're garbage: all I'm hearin' is tragic bull.
Those empty death threats? They just make us laugh.
Turn off Caps Lock and stop making disgraceful raps.
You can't write to save your life, just face the facts.
And I mean every word, I won't take 'em back.