Lowblow & Stray
Stray
You sure a punch beats a well‑timed lie? I’d love to see the chaos of your fight reflected in a poem.
Lowblow
You think a punch beats a lie? Let me spit a quick rhyme that shows the mess I make when I step in the ring
Hands swing like knives, my eyes never miss,
A flick of a foot, a slash of the wrist,
A grin on my face while the crowd goes wild,
Every move is a story, every beat a wild child.
Stray
Nice. So you’re the poet who can punch a rhyme better than a rhyme can punch a guy? Keep flexing, just don't forget the crowd still has to feel the beat.
Lowblow
You caught my vibe, that’s the move—rhymes and punches in sync. I’ll keep throwing the hard lines, you keep the crowd in rhythm. Let's make the floor feel the beat together.
Stray
Sounds like a plan, just remember the floor’s still going to feel the rhythm before the punches do. Let's see if the crowd can keep up with the chaos.