#Dizaster #RapBattle #MathHoffa
I’m 'bout to get rid of this mathematician with a thousand different algorithms
Made up of the foul decisions in life that cloud his vision
But what'd knocking them out prove? That if your rounds ain’t hittin'
You’ll swing in the middle of the round and hit 'em
And show up without a second round like you did out in England
And maybe you allowed to, but not in our division
Out there they might be proud of you, but I swear to god
You show up without a round two, Math, we’re going to beat the living algebra out of you
And I ain’t even power tripping, cause rather what I would do is
Out-rhyme you and algebraically out-style you
Triangulate on all of your ground moves
See, the root of the problem is there’s nothing positive about you
So I focus on the negatives and try to subtract them out of you
Minus all of your foul moves and that’s how you
Calculate Matthew’s absolute value, yeah
We seen you against Calicoe in New York
We seen the whole crowd give up
You got booed trying to make your style adjust
Your man Cortez battled with Cal, got slumped
I seen Hanz try to get in Calicoe’s face and his ass got punked
If you take the three of y’all together and you add them up
It means half of your squad went against a Cal, got crushed
Which proves we'll always be better at Math
Cause we would never let a Cal kill us

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