text: EPIC RAP BATTLES OF HISTORY!
  MR. T!
  VERSUS!
  MR. ROGERS!
  BEGIN!
  I pity the fool who tries to step to Clubber Lang
  Call me BA biceps cause I’ll crush your whole gang
  Bring Tuesday, Friday and little Trolly the train
  And watch me dip their ass in gold
  And wear em like my neck chain – SUCKA!
  I’ll choke you with your own sweater sleeves
  You couldn’t even beat me in the Land of Make-Believe. PUNK!
  I will Mr. T bag you, in the closest cemetery
  Nobody’s gonna miss you cause all your friends imaginary
  Hi there neighbor
  I hope you don’t mind if I change my shoes
  I’ll be rocking sneakers tIl this battle’s over
  So I don’t get blood from your ugly face on my penny loafers
  I like you just the way you are, one in a million
  But it looks like the barber gave your head a brazilian
  I pity your neck, Mr. Gold chains, you’ve got too many
  The only gold I keep is on the shelf in my Emmys
  I teach the whole world full of children I can tell
  You call yourself T cause you’re too dumb to spell
  Who you calling dumb, fool? Mr T. only needs one letter
  Hello? It’s for you, Bill Cosby wants his sweater
  You’re a forty-year-old virgin in a dumpy ass house
  I’ll get Hannibal, Murdoch and Face to stomp you out
  The only pussy cat you ever seen is on Henrietta, sucker!
  And your Mr. McFeely delivers a lot more than letters
  So before you come to battle with your PBS crap
  How bout I call up CPS about them kids on your lap, fool!
  Watch what you say. Kids love me more than lunch
  I’m not the one with my face on some whack ass Captain Crunch
  When my plan comes together you won’t even see it coming
  I’ll chop you into four black dudes and I’ll remake Cool Runnings
  I’ll say this once, Laurence. I hope it’s understood
  Get right back in your van, get the fuck outta my neighborhood
  WHO WON? WHOS NEXT? YOU DECIDE!
  EPIC RAP BATTLES OF HISTORY!