Rap battles 2

Yo, check the mic, one-two, is this thing on? Guess I gotta speak up for the simpleton I'm on. Your whole demeanor looks like a factory error, A walking "before" pic, a permanent terror. Your fashion is stuck in a different decade, Like a thrift store mannequin lost and afraid. You think you're a king? Nah, you're the court jester, Your whole existence is a bad semester. Verse 2 (Speed up the flow, intensify the wordplay) Your bars are so weak, I heard 'em in preschool, The other kids spit harder than this damn fool. Every line is a yawn, a generic refrain, Like a pre-written story without a brain. You're all bark, no bite, a deflated balloon, Think you're a wolf, but you're a sad cartoon. I'm Einstein, you're a science fair project gone wrong, A brief history of pain in a terrible song. Verse 3 (Slow down for emphasis, every line a heavy jab) Your face is a mugshot that radio should play, If they put you on TV, the viewers would decay. Your hairline's receding, a tactical retreat, Scared of your own ego, so it can't be beat. And that watch on your wrist? Must be an exchange for your necklace, The only thing you've ever won was "most reckless". You came here for beef, but this is a drive-by, And now you're just left to wonder and to cry. Outro (Final, cold-blooded line to end the battle) The whole crowd knows the deal, there's nothing to discuss. Now get out the way, you're just not like us. Double-check Opening with a slick, confident beat) Verse 1 Yo, let's get it straight, you came here for a fight? Your whole rap game's a flickering fluorescent light. Your verses are so old, I heard 'em in preschool, The other kids spit harder, you're the class fool. You think you're a king? Nah, more like a pawn, Moving one square at a time, 'til you're long gone. Your style is so generic, it's a copy-paste job, Like a factory setting, just another slob. Chorus (Beat intensifies, flow gets sharper) Your bars are weak, your flow is slow, My whole team’s laughing at the show. I came to roast, to turn up the heat, Your only talent is retreat. You're a follower, a footnote, a forgotten line, My career's an heirloom, yours is a cheap sign. Verse 2 Your delivery's clunky, it's a chore to hear, Like listening to dial-up from last year. Your attempts at cleverness land with a thud, Your rhymes are as stale as a forgotten mud. You're all hat, no cattle, all talk, no game, Spitting tired words that all sound the same. You’re looking for a reaction, hoping for a spark, But you're just another whisper in the dark. Chorus (Beat builds, flow is a steady, powerful stream) Your bars are weak, your flow is slow, My whole team’s laughing at the show. I came to roast, to turn up the heat, Your only talent is retreat. You're a follower, a footnote, a forgotten line, My career's an heirloom, yours is a cheap sign. Outro (Beat fades out with a final record scratch) Now pick up the mic, or just admit defeat, Your roasting rap was just a sad receipt. The crowd is done with you, they're ready for more, This battle's over, so just walk out the door.