Good Raps For Rap Battles Novels & Stories

Ethan took off his baseball jacket, wrapped it around my waist, and left. He came back fifteen minutes later with a box of tampons and a steaming hot cup of chocolate. His ears were redder than a ripe apple. “Zach nearly passed out laughing when he saw me at the cashier,” Ethan muttered as he passed me the things. “You had better drink it all. Don’t make me embarrass myself for nothing.” Zach Whitmore was Ethan’s rival, another rich young heir who was always vaping behind the gym. Later that week, when I stayed back for cheerleading practice, Zach stopped me in the corridor.

🎵I hope a trap boy's your type🎵 🎶why?🎶 🎵Cause I don't have a nine to five🎵 🎶alright🎶 🎵I get that your standards high but I'm not a random guy, I'm different🎵 🎶lliterally🎶 🎵When I write my rhymes, you say you don't like that line, I'll switch it🎵 🎶calm🎶 🎵You said you don't like my life, you said you don't like my guys you're trippin', trippin🎵

So many thoughts flew through Zen’s mind, but there wasn’t much time. With a deep breath, Zen gritted his teeth and steeled his resolve. There was no time to think or alter the lyrics. He’d read them aloud as he rehearsed. Rap battles were about wills, and if Lil’ Mushade thought this would intimidate him, he was wrong. === Zen Fransisco’s Round 2 === The sushi with a tail Talk big but you’re a fail From the start of this stage You just hid in a cage Watch your comrades get slayed

Sab and I occupied the two seats in the front. /Gonna live like it's the end of the world Gonna party like, oh Turn it up, turn it up, mash it up It ain't the end of the world smiles, metaphors and we pop pills Sick flow, inundated with the doc bills Work hard, now we know how to top bills In the middle of the street doing cartwheels Lot of them try to do it but it's not real Wasn't a rapper, then I could've got a pop deal