Mixed Results

I didn’t like that very much and neither did the crowd
Compared to the cheering, the booing seemed quite loud
But I gathered myself and tried not be scared
And recited the rhymes that I had prepared:


I’ll defeat you I’ll do what I need to
In his war of words to make sure I beat you
If you’re like an army I’m like the Russian winter
You thought you would harm me
But you are just a splinter
You can hurt me once but then I’m just fine
I don’t think you have another good line
You’re a Mongol not a rap mogul
I’ll rhyme circles around you or at least an oval
Go back to the Gobi I dominate like Kobe
You thought you were King but you’ve been dethroned we
All know that I’m better if you don’t you don’t know me


When Genghis went up he was berating my young age
Which did not do him much good and he flew into a rage
And had to be restrained, or my fears would have come true
But he calmed down in time for the round after round two

In the tiebreaker, I thought I had it clinched
It had to be four lines, which I thought would be a cinch
Since I thought it would be such a breeze
I was content to say lines like these:

I don’t get it I just do not know
Why you’re so proud of what happened eight hundred years ago
It’s so far in the past that you have no proof
That what you say happened is truly the truth

His response was better. I lost. No shock there.
My next opponent was Abe Lincoln. I was scared.
He was a good president and I knew he spoke well
And I imagined that when I met him he would tell
Me about how he learned about rap four score
And seven hours ago, yet he’d beat me for sure

My fears were unfounded. Lincoln lost to my lyrical attack
And then I felt that I was really getting on the right track
When I out-rhymed Gandhi – but he let me win
And then I beat Elvis Presley – that was easy as sin

But I did not get all the victories that I needed
I challenged Shakespeare and was soundly defeated
Then I felt about as witty as a two year old child
When being insulted by one Oscar Wilde
Then my ego dropped well below the cellar
When I lost the final battle to Helen Keller