CHICAGO BEEF LEAGUE

The Bat (World) Is Yours


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The regular season is over. Let's quickly recognize Josh:

"I sip the Dom P, watching Gandhi 'til I'm charged
Then writing in my book of rhymes, all the words past the margin
To hold the mic I'm throbbin', mechanical movement
Understandable smooth s*** that murderers move with
The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right
The fiend of hip-hop has got me stuck like a crack pipe
The mind activation, react like I'm facin' time like
Pappy Mason, with pens I'm embracin'
Wipe the sweat off my dome, spit the phlegm on the streets
Suede Timb's on my feets makes my cipher complete
Whether crusing in a Sikh's cab, or Montero Jeep
I can't call it, the beats make me fallin' asleep
I keep falling, but never falling six feet deep
I'm out for presidents to represent me (say what?)
I'm out for presidents to represent me (say what?)
I'm out for dead presidents to represent me

Whose world is this?
The world is yours, the world is yours
It's mine, it's mine, it's mine."

UP NEXT: Wild card round, Chip v Suneel (aka Good v Evil) and Aleks v Dave (Tweedle-dee v Tweedle-dum). Who will face the juggernauts, Josh and John? Stay tuned to the next ep.

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CHICAGO BEEF LEAGUEBy Brute Squad

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