Hachiman was more optimistic at first. He thought that Zaimokuza could not spit any rhymes and his subject matter does not extend beyond Fried Chicken and food. In the end, Zaimokuza proved himself to be worthy of the emcee title. In fact, his rhyme was so impressive that by the end of his verse, Hachiman collapsed on the stage.
"Subliminal diss? Please, I'm a lyrical beast, inimical beast that dealt blows with minimal miss. You're nothing to me, but a faggot fronting to me. I'm the motherfucker out there who makes niggas deceased! You gonna come at me? Fine, witness me murder vowels and devour all your homies like a typical feast. And after I am done with all that imma lick a girl's snitch. Who's that? Yukino, of course, get triggered, you bitch!"
"OOOooooooooOOOOOOOOOO" The crowd cheered at Zaimokuza and jeered at Hachiman.
Hachiman broke into a cold sweat. He always thought his rhymes are the best. But having heard Zaimokuza's verse, he realised how much his rhymes paled in comparison to his fat homie's.
This is the rhyme that he intended to compete with:
"Put my CD in your pee pee hole and now your pee pee goes round like a bitch on a stripping pole. I like white hair, especially on traps which makes it irresistible to fuck their sissy holes. 'Please me, yo?' Jeez, of course I will, I'll even release my dough on your cute little butt, and lick it off faster than a starving biggie smalls and eat it all, the thought alone makes me want to beat it off.
(Hook)
Stuck my nut snuck in yo butt
Too late fam, here comes 8man.
Stuck my nut snuck in yo butt
Too late fam, here comes 8man.
Stuck my nut snuck in yo butt
Too late fam, here comes 8man.
Stuck my nut snuck in yo butt
Too late fam, here comes 8man.
Make me a sandwich, bitch, now, don't you ever snitch, all you had to do is scratch my balls to stop the fucking itch. Come on, scratch it, scratch it till it bleeds. Awwwww it feels so good, you small hands are all I need! Oh god I'm spraying seeds! Come back, when the fuck did I ask you to stop? Wanna get smacked? Where's yo respect? I'm yo brother, can't you tell by now I'm desperate for sex? Hey! You listening to me? Do you want me to slap you? Grab you by the hair and pull it out, or should I stab you? Or should I shag you? And by shag I mean putting myself inside you balls deep and thrust so hard I give your pussy sore lips. And maybe shove it down your throat until your jaws rip! Say sorry, for trying to run away from your brother like that. Why would you not stay? Look at my dick, so big it can't stand up, it sways. Why are you not turned on by that, you gay? Hey! Sit down, bitch! Don't run away no more, your brother's gonna teach you the birds and the bees, the perv and his sis, hey! Hand's off that bleach! What good it gotta do to kill yourself? I'll still fuck your corpse to fulfill myself."
"Man fuck this shit!"
Hachiman knew that his verse is wack. With that shit he can never ever compete with Zaimokuza.
Now is Hachiman's turn. All the attention is diverted to him. His lips quivered, as he held his like with shaking hands. Now that he ditched his verse last minute, he could rely on nothing but his freestyling skills.
He looked around. He could still see looks of amusement from Zaimokuza's killer verse. The crowd was not helping in calming his nerves. As Hachiman stood there, thinking of how he landedse himself in such trouble, the beats start to play.
Reality kicks in. He knew he had to deliver.
"Ahem… this shit goes out to the fakest nigger out there. I have always thought we were homies and shit. Never knew how wrong I was. And Yukino, if you ain't coming back after this, please stick this verse up your bootyhole. Fucking slut.
Look, if you had, one friend, and one girl friend, and suddenly they sell their soul, betray you, make a joke out of you, would you want to beef? Or just be pleased. Yo.
His fats unholy
Knee pads?
That's his homie!
He feed on nothing but chickens only,
Dad's ravioli!
His purpose? He murders kids and pats their body
To feel love, this is how he gets the pussy
He is not sound, don't let your child be found
He'll open his pouch , and let his dried cum fall out
He'll choke them out
This is not a joke about
His broken cock, he's really down Verboten route!
Backpack full of LSDs
O now we enemies
O now you panic
You hope
For my amity
Nope
This ain't happening
No
Longer family
Yo
It's your penalty
Go
With that ratchery
Hoe
Stick your salami
Whole
I ain't mad at this
Bro
When she goes off with a dude don't come back at me
Pack all your bags cos we go, rekt that nigga
He'll never recover from this so rest in peace you fat fuck
You better kill yourself,
You're worthless, your purpose,
Is to be nothing but a fucking piece of shit
You only got one cup
Of bleach can you please drink up
Cos everybody wants to watch your fatass die
You better kill yourself,
You're worthless, your purpose,
Is to be nothing but a fucking piece of shit
You only got one cup
Of bleach can you please drink up
Cos everybody wants to watch your fatass die
You better kill yourself."
Hachiman finished the song to rapturous applause. "Encore! Encore!" Shouted the audience, for it was the dopest shit they have ever heard in their lifetime. At one point, he was hauled off the stage and paraded around the entire area. It was a surreal moment that only occurs in movies.
The audience soon flooded him, asking for his autograph. At that moment, it became clear that Hachiman is the victor.
Zaimokuza, being his salty self after losing to a superior individual, found his inferiority complex acting up as he started cussing Hachiman out and calling his ancestors Melanated Plantation Workers.
Nobody calls Hachiman's ancestors MPWs. Hachiman got triggered and smacked the fats out of Zaimokuza's cheeks. "Stop! Stop!" Zaimokuza cried in pain as Hachiman continued to assault his corpulent body.
Just then Yukino appeared.
"Hachiman, you are the lowest of low. How dare you hurt Zaimokubabe's precious fats? Come, baby, let's get the fuck away from this idiot."
"Fo real the descendants of MPWs!" Zaimokuza, still salty, flipped the bird at Hachiman as he entered Yukino's limousine.
And then they rode off into the night.
Hachiman shrugged. "Oh well she ain't no keeper anyhowz."
He went back to the stage. The crowd fell silent. Minutes ago, there were groups of people swearing to bring back the dead bodies of the forbidden couple. However, once Hachiman walked onto the stage, all eyes were on him once again. The audience immediately ceased their heated disputes and the general sentiments of indignity metamorphosed into that of anticipation.
It was at that moment that Hachiman realised his life was all but a lie.
For years, he believed that girls are his heart's desires. He believed in the sexual and platonic satiability that girls are capable of providing. Although his experiences with girls over the years had somehow disillusioned him a little, he still held firmly to his faith— that men and women are like the Ying and the Yang to each other. That no man can amount to anything without women in his life.
Hachiman may have feigned disinterest towards girls, but he could not feign immunity from man's primal instincts pertaining to the opposite gender. Many days, he could recall, were spent watching "girly" shows like Kill Me Baby, Coriiru in de Haosu, Tatsu No Raven, Yuru Yuri, Gochuumon Wa Usagi Desu Ga, Azumanga Daioh, Kiniro Mosaic, Hinako Note, New Game, Hibike Euphonium etc. He watched these shows in an attempt to understand girls more, but the only good they have ever done to his is strengthen up his left arm.
He never understood women. To him, they are like enigma codes impossible to decipher through the wits of mere mortals alone.
However, all this is right now irrelevant. Right now, women hold no higher value than an unpolished diamond. Hachiman's perception of women has been reduced to nothing but bitches and hoes.
The adulation of women belongs to the bygone era. Right now, Hachiman's only fulfillment in life is Hip Hop.
And for that reason, he has decided to stay in Detroit. Not for weeks, not for months, but for several years. That one rap battle has reignited the flame in him— the flickering inconstancy of his passion has evolved into a diabolical inferno. He finally reclaimed what he lost over all these years— his true desire for rapping. The desire that is kept behind a bulwark all these years by the society's imposing of him to lust after women.
He broke all ties to his family back in Japan, but not before cursing at his mom over the phone for not giving birth to him in Detriot.
And this marks the start of what is to be Hachiman's full-time rap career. Could our emcee make it in the hungry game of Mid-west Hip Hop? When is he going to release his debut album? Please find out in the subsequent chapters.
