Still Standing/CarlCee Battle

Start at 0:10 or ignore the beat and see me rip this kid below the "song"

 

I feel like I'm just lost n' tossin an turnin, frosted over still burnin'

yearnin for somethin greater, soul searchin in this dull hole full a haters

An indicator that this world is not what it seems, not for me, vision blurred

Stings cause it had the nerve to splice my last nerve, wow,

Twice now I've sunk to the bottom *kerplunk* the sound of my rottin body droppin

Used all the strength I've got n', stuck watchin, plottin my next move

findin my groove, time to choose what path to take, what I have at stake

you do the math while I sit here and fuckin masturbate,

while everyone fucking laughs at the raps I make,

wake n' bake, for god's sake hoping this is all a dream

that it's not fake, and tomorrow instead of drowning in my sorrows I gleam

And get a chance with these rap rants in my hands to redeem my torn self-esteem

I'll then be reborn livin vivid in the chants of my fans,

Dancin, dashin, prancin, and laughin cause my plans aren't chrashin

I can finally make a statement about our mental fashion without receivin a verbal lashin

Babblin in my journal I finally ain't travelin this fucking circle, no longer feelin hurtful

Dealin with fright in a bright light like I'm nocturnal,

rarely seein, barely breathin turning purple,

But I'm still standin...

I'm still standin...

Still standin...

 

Still standing with my feet firmly planted,

Granted I was never fully stranded,

I'll never understand why I felt so abandoned

My childhood wasn't bland n' I'll tell you firsthand

I wasn't raised a dumb little ass though,

branded a son of middle-class folk,

wrote, spoke like a normal human, still perceived different

Maybe I'm late-bloomin, a newly received shipment

concealin a brilliant bewitchment feelin resistant

Wonderin why everyone's so persistent thunderin in telling me what to do,

what to say, who knew, I'd still be standing here today

I almost ended it all, I almost fuckin hung a rope n' let all 150 pounds fall

Jesus what a fucking close call,

I don't give a lil shit if no one believes this ill spit raw

Cause in the long haul you'll remember these lyrical pictures I draw

An ember burned right through the center of the spherical sinners thought

Just be careful when you're caught standing at the edge in distraught

Remember you're lucky to be standin at all

Remember we're still standin...

We're still standin...

Still standin...

 

 

 

You're raps are bare there's nothin there, real rhymes are rare

ill lyrically rip you apart like a fuckin nose-hair,

I make art while your shits rusty soundin worse than a dusty fart

Bitch do not start

my rhymes eat up your lines like a fuckin pop tart

Ill pop you as a lead dart

Leave ya dead like a stopped heart

Till you can't breathe cause this shits a breeze, it's easy to me,

believe what you see, a REAL MC

I don't make fake shitty one syllable raps,

in fact you're as killable as drugged up lab rat,

you ain't a thug just a crushed bug on my windshield on the road to fame,

Benny FUCKING Trip remember the name,

As it slips through your toneless lips borderline homeless,

and who's to blame?ME. ive got more skill purely in my pinky finger,

merely lettin the scent from your stinky raps linger,

so sit in fasten up an listen while I give it to you rough,

Then delete, I REPEAT, Delete your raps and beats ya fuckin clown,

I ain't joking around when I say you've been SHUTDOWN

 

 

 

You're raging an got some grammar issues go back to first grade

I'll be bathing in glamor and diss you till you burst in pain

wait, no, that's just that lava you said while bitchin

I'm afraid, though, yo mama is givin me head with a smile in the kitchin

See that's what we genius rappers call skill,

I'm ill, sick of lil penis fappers takin notes from Kill Bill

But this ain't at all a movie more like World War II

You're playin Call of Duty four while I hurl on you

I'm not spittin, just shittin on everything you write,

So listen freak, I might just speak and cut you some slack, ight?

I know you're weak an secretly tweakin countin petals knowin you gonna lose

Prick, that's why you choose an pick on low levels like a dick in a pussy that's too loose

Metaphors son, I'm guessin you didn't know they exist

That's why I'm givin you a rap lesson so don't get pissed

Level 10 and you ain't even on my hit list,

It's a sin for me to win cause I could crush you with a fist made outta fuckin mist