Casual’s response to Eminem’s use of the moniker Rapgod.   Just in case you were wondering.  You might need to read the lyrics.

via 2dopeboyz.com

I had a Gold Mic, fa my whole life.
and felt a rapper really need to be the Bold Type/
I gotta cold right, but I’m a south paw,
with a mouth of raw that gotta overbite!-
Crush any rhymer. See me mama? Got the flow of 20 rhymers, and kinds problem? Beef?;
20 piranhas, Henny, Remy and plenty of lammas/
He with the goddess, but this ain’t about his Ciabattas-
Kemetic Magician done got in his head/
cause Greek Gods Come from Egypt Like Herodotus Said-
heavy as fuck,
smebin an ebony truck
Not Rich, But I Never need bucks/
whenever he ready he better repent or regret that he said ready to bust!!-
Ya whole career you on some
Devilish shit/
So if I let you claim RAPGOD; Heaven will split-
Malevolent Intelligent Witty;
Big city committee president. Bailing with that elegant clique.
Sadiddy Spittery!!-
In-^hal-ing-a splif
en-tail-ing-a myth
and selling’em what I’m compelling’em with/
Benevolent heaven sent reverend ever since I was rebelling with Del and A Plus!!-
I’m Rapgod, I hover over your Tabernacle/
Them Battle raps should have sat’em back on yo adams apple-
or had’em scrapped, he wayyy out of his habitat too,
White Canvas, Black Ink’em. Let’em have a tattoo!-
Ya Sinking Slowly, 10 Fathoms from the bottom champ/
blood rising in the water
like da bubbles in the lava lamp!!-

In the beginning they called me Rapgod. Everything I drop you know it slap hard. The Studio in the chapel got a trap door. “You slide in that, ain’t know coming back dogg!”-

I Lithographed my life on two Basalt Slabs.
You smoking Asphalt Grass off a Bath Salt Blast!!!
This emotional pussy-whipped poet know I’m not a liar cause/
you ain’t spit fire since Nic took Mariah-1
“giver back boy”! she with a Black Boy.
Hat to the back with a gat, boyyyyyy-
them Sissy Bars; like the back rest on a Fatboy(Harley)-
I carry(Carey) a cannon like Askenanzi Paparaz/
stop and watch him, they Lion on him, Not Versace,-
I’m firing on him..
and it calls for panic y’all!
not the one you wanta hand the ball-Neanderthal- !!!
Kicking back, I got the sandals off in panama/
Lookin hard as hellish; with Benard Cazelles on-4

I Don’t play it modest I just stay the hardest!!!/
Why your favorite artist always wanta play retarded?-
Well
I’ll whip out a style,
that with flip out the crowd
And Den?
I’m would get fouls and wild
and rip out his vowels!!
And Den?
take a quick bow and smile
And Den?
Carve out his tongue,
And den?
Starve out his Young..
Preserve his nerves and brains In this Jar that I Brung!!!!-

In the beginning they called me Rapgod. Everything I drop you know it slap hard whoes the real rap god whose the wack fraud.
No rapture, ain’t know coming back dogg

I’m reading off a scroll while your
Bleed on the Guillotine;
A Carthaginian Killa, Phoenician; Philistine/
Spark the semi fa skrilla, I’m beasting, Guerrilla main!!!/
Stilla swing the Easton
Villa in the Philippines-
Bill Fold in-a-Ma-nil-la Fold-er ill-rap Real-Cold and-i’m-still-a-soldier
said “Make a style that will break him down then
take a bow” know I’m kneeling over!!!—
Thank You Thank You Thanks You, Thanks/
Zima!!
The Blue Bemer thinga snatch ya queen Fatimah/
now Ya chick rub my Jiz on her face; Neutrogena-
(Pause)You not #Rapgod; you a stupid demon.
I leave your group or team; leaking like Fukushima-
A gruesome team of Emcees but I don’t need my fucking crew
I’ll knock you out and wash your mouth out with a Hooka Cleaner-
Claim the Son of Rapgod and I won’t abuse my child/
Listen Bigge use to use my style
Homie this ain’t 8 Mile!!
Now everybody feeling the rhymes The Real #Rapgod out rap that fraud
now where you at?
Could have done it in a minutes time, when he begin his rhyme, I’m at the finish line-
I been a splitter with a trigger happy rapid fire repertoire/
Ask ya chick, Since the early nineties/

In the beginning the called me Rapgod,

“Yeah Rapgod that’s me. I’m the divine Manifestation, The Supreme Incarnation. There are other Rapgod’s but I’m #Rapgod. and they know that from the Bay to the Bricks;”

Young Zee, What it do Fam?
Smoking wax daps In a Black Cab,
at a tittie bar; with a fat tab, (or)
in a shitty car, with a pretty broad
with a fat ass
on Mac Lab,
and the rat; in the back; with the sack; interact with the cat
on Twitter and she tweeting;
“How you call yourself a Rapgod; and not anticipate the Backlash?”
In the beginning the called me Rapgod. Everything I drop you know it slap hard. Now you studio looking like a scrap yard-

Now you are about to be bared up, every bar that you thought up;
I’m Deified. In my past life, I believe that I died as a Martyr –
You’ll get Baptized in Rap Water/
By Protestant Nuns who hold guns like BlackWater;
Bigger than Shaq Daughter-
I’m in The Back;The Black Part of the Rap Charter/
Rap-god harder than All y’all;
Check the #Hastag
I’m in my crash pad having a flashback of when you didn’t write rhymes on a trash bag/
I gotta smash that cause I’m the #Rapgod you try to snatch that, better give it back dog!-
I got the Cherubim bring out the Seraphim you can’t prepare for them better beware of them I bring the Nephilim and then the Rephaim when I rock my thing, with the best of them-
And I’m you nemesis, about to finish this kid off/
Spit giant sentences, Genesis 6:4-
Fallen Angel my parliament calling terrible/
rapping to the trumpets that toppled the Walls of Jericho.
The Real #Rapgod Album on Bandcamp/
with alot of my other shit/
I slaughter and smother shit-
You got a cash stack but that fast rap
useless like hairs on an ass crack/
I’m abusively intrusive and you confusing me with music-
I moves elusively, Your lil fans are now my fans/
Here is something you cant understand!!!!-