Pounds

In this game of words, I'm the king, check the crown

Your rhymes are like pantyhines, solid gold bound

I'm a riddle in the night, a puzzle in the sound

While you're a lost echo, just bouncing around

Every word I spit's like a lightning strike

Your lines are like a pipe, mine's a turbocharged bike

I'm the chef in this kitchen, cooking up something tight

You're just reheating leftovers, ain't nothing right

I'm the rhythm in the rap, the beat in the heart

Your words fall flat, mine's a work of art