Escucha música Lewis Carroll Vs Ernest Hemingway de Allrounda Productions 2025 en línea | Musica Lyrics

Allrounda Productions - Lewis Carroll Vs Ernest Hemingway Lyrics

[Verse 1: Lewis Carroll]
I'm Lewis Carroll, writer, photographer
Standing above you at over six feet
At the end, I’ll write a story and take a photo
Of you steaming mad in defeat
But I'll slow down so your brain
Can have some room to think
Are you really that bad of a writer?
Or did you just have one too many drinks?
I'm on a rap attack, leaving trails of dead bodies
Don’t get in my way
You'd have more use in a game of croquet
Your works were so bad, you killed yourself
Guess they really were that shitty
I'm the star of the whole world
Not just puny Kansas City

[Verse 2: Ernest Hemingway]
J-j-just f-face it L-Lewis
You're g-going to l-l-lose
If I can survive two plane crashes
I can handle you too
I know you're going to break down and cry
If I make fun of your face
But you know, looking like a girl
Really doesn't help your case
We all want you to stop writing
Just listen to the pleas
I'm writing classic after classic
While you overdose on LSD
Why were you so alone, huh?
Couldn't find a kid to bone?
I bet you like to see their dicks
’Cause they’re the size of your own
[Verse 3: Ralph Emerson]
Let the American rapping scholar
Give you a taste of his ways
I'll end your days and then write about it
In a series of essays
You two are ugly as hell, but me?
I’m hotter than the summer
I mean, it can't be too hard to dis
Tweedle-Dumb and Tweedle-Dumber
My son died, but I'm not a pussy
Nope, no time for crying
I'll simply write an emotional poem
For this losing is true dying
I’d tell you to worship me
But that shit is so antiquated
I'm a master of lyrical warfare
'Cause frankly, peace is overrated

[Verse 4: Emily Dickinson]
I might be a solitary girl
But I'm coming out to spit some rhymes
'Cause, truth is, I've got more balls
Than the three of you combined
You'll be the latest lost in this battle
You won't survive
My raps have so much life
You could say my verse is alive
And no, I'm not Emily Dick-sucker
So don't even try going there
Your books have been forgotten
And I'm not just memory-impaired
I'm the greatest writer ever
Even Shakespeare would approve
Now, let me just mark this down
As the day I made you pussies lose
[Verse 5: F Scott Fitzgerald]
You honestly think you can win?
Well you're clearly not that bright
Go back to your closet, girlie
You've got no place in this fight
But Great Gatsby, all your rhymes suck ass
And you know it
You three dicks can't write for shit
And Emily's an awful poet
For the love of the last tycoon
Just quit trying to rap
I never read such a flawed novel
Until your books fell in my lap
You all write like Kindergartners
So let me give you some advice
Try dropping dead again
That'll make my Side of Paradise

[Verse 6: Franz Kafka]
Let the trial begin!
The guilty party?
Each and everyone of you
Francis?
Death by candy bar
Is that the best you could do?
I tell fascinating stories of alienation and transformation
It takes so long for you all to think of rhymes
It's like a sequel to Contemplation
You're all worthless little cockroaches
Stay out of my castle
Now, who else dares to add more fire to this hassle?
You five are like Josephine, s
Slowly fading away, now taste defeat
Now that you've all been beat
My metamorphosis is complete
[Verse 7: Agatha Christie]
If you don't mind, I'm gonna step in
And briefly stop the fighting
Why do you all think you can rap?
Now that's a mystery worth writing
I'll hang you from the rafters
As you scramble to find a solution
And then ask my friend Elizabeth to be a witness
To the prosecution
I'm the best selling author of all time
You think you stand a chance?
I write books with color
While Kafka tries to handle romance!
I spit professional rhymes
It sounds like you're on your dry run
First there were no talented rappers here
And then there was one

[Verse 8: Lord Byron]
Let the Right Honorable Lord Byron
Dish out some slaps
For me, rapping is a sport
'Cause you know, I invented that
I'm like a British Casanova
With novels actually worth reading
I spit rhymes so sick
You'll end up with a fever and endless bleeding
It's time for you all to stop writing
Here, hand over your pens
And Miss Christie, you walk in ugliness
Go disappear again
My raps are way better than ones
You couldn't even receive
I'm the rapping king in romantic bling;
I'll just take my crown and leave

[Verse 9: Stephen King]
I heard my name
I guess it's time to take my place in this bout
I'm the almighty Stephen King
Here to add some flow to this drought
Oh Lord George!
You think you're so hot like a real life Narcissus
But you're ugly and untalented
Don't even make an effort to diss us
And the rest of you, don't even get me started
You'll end in a blast
I'm the only one relevant
You all are just things of the past
And as the battle concludes
With King having the last laugh
His enemies retract at the blood-curdling sight
Of his Dark Half

[Verse 10: Edgar Allan Poe]
Hold it right there
I'll make this battle darker as my spotlights glow
There's never been such a worthy foe
As Edgar Allan Poe
This battle's for good rappers
I believe you've misunderstood
Without my influence, Steve
Your books wouldn't be half as good
I invented a whole genre
You can't match my fame
You're embarrassed by your works
That's why you use pen names
I'll rip out your Tell-Tale Hearts
'Cause you're all just un-clever whores
When will we have to hear your shitty rapping?
Quoth The Raven
"Nevermore"