Eminem Imagines

Rap Battles

Full creds to stormtail !! She's amazing you guys. If you like my horrible rhymes, be sure to comment if you want me to do another imagine similar to this.

It's a blustery night in Detroit, the setting for everything that was about to take place. Your staring at yourself in the mirror, the dark and dingy bathroom closing in around you. The greenish fluorescents captivating your features unattractively but you do not care. The large horizontal mirror keeps everything in check.

You walk out the bathroom, the bass to some Tupac song pumping through the walls. You have had six consecutive victories in The Shelter, and it had lead you to guaranteed success in the mainstream rap world.  People offering you record deals, low keyed jealousy but mostly happy feelings.

You were called "The Wrath" because of your vicious rhymes attacking the opponent and  never straying off topic. You wore a black, red splattered tank top to signify it was you slaughtering opponents. But someone, a new victim had stepped up to you, claiming  to be a dope MC. You said nothing to these rumors that had been swirling around for weeks, only laughed them off. But tonight was your night to defend yourself against the underdog.

You stepped to the stage, taking in all the dark faces. The low hanging lights lit up the huge room. Everyone was talking and cheering as you took the stage a few minutes late. DJ Killa was mixing a Nas song with a Dr. Dre one and you knew this was your beat. The other MC had not arrived yet, but you were already were getting opinions to form on him. Proof stepped up to the stage as the boy stepped out onto the stage from the crowd.

You take him in: dorkish blue eyes and buzzed brown hair, skinny frame hidden by a thick navy Wu Tang Clan hoodie. Easiest target in the flucking world.

The crowd had been  getting rowdy, yelling for you while simultaneously booing the white boy. Proof calmed everyone down as the DJ turned off the music to let Proof speak.

"Aight, aight, aight. We got The Wrath, verses a brand new opponent. He's a real dope MC, he goes by M&M. Both these kids got a full minute, since I know that's what y'all wanna see.  The Wrath, you up first. DJ, hit me." He said and crowd was already rooting for you. The beat was intense, harder than the first time you had heard it.

You thought for a second about what you wanted to say, and then went in.

   Yo, yo, yo.
This guy looks like Bill Gates missed his first of the month check
Lookin' all worn down like an overused front deck.
He can't battle with The Wrath
He's on the wrong path
He looks higher than kite
Too shook to hold the mic
He's scared of me
He can't even look
A room full of negroes can get ya afraid and shook

I may not know much about him, but I know already he's a phony
Whiteys don't belong in rap, you think these people are your homies?
Hitler's wet dream, nearly blonde hair and blue eyes
Are you an undercover Nazi or a Clansmen in disguise?

You catch his girlfriend in the crowd and you attack her next.

Your girlfriend, I see that blitch in the crowd.
Looking like a coke ho, you must be proud
She took the time off her job of cheating on you to come watch ya lose
News flash, bro, all you've been receiving is boos.

All these rhymes are too intelligent for your brain to comprehend
So just go sit down before you blow a fuse.
Ain't no need to pretend, you can't say shlit
You're like an MC Hammer, while I'm the best lyricist...

"The Wrath! The Wrath! The Wrath!" That's all you can hear. M&M looked in the verge of tears and his girlfriend looked beyond pissed off at you. You flip her off gloriously.

"Okay, okay, okay. M&M, M&M, M&M, hit her up man. DJ, hit me." And then, he went,

Aight, aight.

Aight.
Your style seems old
For once, can y'all say something that hasn't already been told?
They call you The Wrath, but for an MC, you kinda are like The Draft
Because your rhymes blow through people without leaving affect
Meanwhile, I swallow and chew MCs like you

Yeah you called out my girl, but can I sit your porky middle finger and twirl?
It's M to the M in this motherflucker, I ain't playing around.

He caught sight of your stocking cap holding back the top of your hair.

Get that stocking cap off your head, looking like the condom your parents should've used.
It's okay to be angry, I know you've been sexually abused
I may be white trash, but who the fluck are you?
I'm the illest in this game, you bring rap shame
The Wrath, haha, blitch please
Go back to the brothel, and don't come back here and give me a disease

Everyone's still mostly on your side as he ends it. He drops the mic and storms out, clearly enraged. Proof crowns none of you the winner in a twist of events. You are surprised. It must mean you'll have a rematch.

|This was pretty fun to write so there'll be a second part next week|