[Round 1: Cali Smoov]
L.A. what up?!
(WHAT UP!?)
Let me guess, you gon' be the sixth nigga with twerk jokes and fake personals, but I’m more known for my genius
See I already knew, Daniel stories, it was foretold in Ephesians
You say the most abstract lines and these leagues pay you for it
{Danny impression} I'll put a prison on Mars, cause my bars are outta this world" and y'all niggas go crazy for it
I say stuff like, I’m an entrepreneur
I took myself to those limits then I test those odds
A street legend, the vets labeled me the "west coast Nas"
Cause he conscious, they peep the message in the bars
But feel passion, but block bread regardless, they know I started with a steel 'matic (Stillmatic)
I'm underground, so me and my connect, only text when we see less moves
I listen to him, but I never seen his face like MF Doom
Bars!
Give me my space dawg or it's a wrong turn down Elm Street
Jason ya face off
Imagine travellin' wit' a burner in every city cause they shoot if ya race wrong
And I'm from the hood send they heads was based on
Trust me, I'm from a city where the cops iffy
And the block niggas rock Dickies
And the killings hot, I grew up down the street from where they shot Ricky
Unless you related from somebody big homie, it’s never good
You so hard but it’s old dawg (O Dog) from every hood
I'm tryin’ to show God I got Job's loyalty
Make the message in my songs perfect, but this is outta biblical order
Cause you gotta get past this Mark to hear John verses
What y'all ain't get it? My moms named me John that’s why I got Psalms worded
And I'm a star around circles Chuck, why con' verse (Converse) it?
I keep two animals wit' me, they make it flood, case you start beef
My whole squad bangin'
I mean, some Red and part C's (seas)
What y'all ain't get it? Don't worry I ain't gon' slow the bar
Remember I said it was biblical talk?
Whoever ain't get it wouldn't know a (Noah) bar
You a lot older than me
But we from the same C
See I'm still able (Abel) to kill big brother like I got Cain's gene
But wait, you everybody little homie, that's how I'ma know I'ma win
Cause you let Aye Verb say he passed you the torch and you older than him
Talkin' 'bout Mr. South Central
I find out where ya Vegas crib at and a time when I know he in it
Run in the crib and get to swingin' on the kids like Don't Be A Menace
I know y'all probably thought that was simple so let's make it a triple
I said I run in his place with a .38 soon as I see ya fam', that tre pop ten kids like Dashiki Man
This nigga be on Facebook takin' selfies with money
Like he got wild report
But couldn't battle Chilla out in Canada cause he owe child support
You mean to tell me, that he got $12,000 to pay Rex for a verse
But ain't got the decency to throw ya baby mama a couple hundred on the first?
See I'm a marksman, grip the baton and pallbearer him
Oh you the "Bar God"? Well meet a barbarian
Beat him with bars or bar bury him
Take out his nose to trace out his skull to carve letters in
Take out his jaw to paint whatever's left of his face on the wall to display it as art, I'll John Getty him
Calm, steady been, militant, machine gun
Arms heavy like Saddam sent me to bomb any
Body that's not from Iran's city, go kamikaze and Nazi on all enemies
Arm enemies, only to flash back like Vietnam trilogies
Artillery, armed with an army and our energy is called symmetry
It matches from our inner G
A bar industry, cut from the cloth and we are in the streets
My thoughts vividly dark, givin' me the smarts literally
To take apart with spark then paint every visually
When I write, it's like God's sittin' wit' me
We carve letters on the canvas together it cause symphonies
You paid to battle John John, I got paid to battle John John
My words got me this spot, you broke bread to get here
Nigga I earned my spot!
Smoov nigga!
L.A. what up?!
(WHAT UP!?)
Let me guess, you gon' be the sixth nigga with twerk jokes and fake personals, but I’m more known for my genius
See I already knew, Daniel stories, it was foretold in Ephesians
You say the most abstract lines and these leagues pay you for it
{Danny impression} I'll put a prison on Mars, cause my bars are outta this world" and y'all niggas go crazy for it
I say stuff like, I’m an entrepreneur
I took myself to those limits then I test those odds
A street legend, the vets labeled me the "west coast Nas"
Cause he conscious, they peep the message in the bars
But feel passion, but block bread regardless, they know I started with a steel 'matic (Stillmatic)
I'm underground, so me and my connect, only text when we see less moves
I listen to him, but I never seen his face like MF Doom
Bars!
Give me my space dawg or it's a wrong turn down Elm Street
Jason ya face off
Imagine travellin' wit' a burner in every city cause they shoot if ya race wrong
And I'm from the hood send they heads was based on
Trust me, I'm from a city where the cops iffy
And the block niggas rock Dickies
And the killings hot, I grew up down the street from where they shot Ricky
Unless you related from somebody big homie, it’s never good
You so hard but it’s old dawg (O Dog) from every hood
I'm tryin’ to show God I got Job's loyalty
Make the message in my songs perfect, but this is outta biblical order
Cause you gotta get past this Mark to hear John verses
What y'all ain't get it? My moms named me John that’s why I got Psalms worded
And I'm a star around circles Chuck, why con' verse (Converse) it?
I keep two animals wit' me, they make it flood, case you start beef
My whole squad bangin'
I mean, some Red and part C's (seas)
What y'all ain't get it? Don't worry I ain't gon' slow the bar
Remember I said it was biblical talk?
Whoever ain't get it wouldn't know a (Noah) bar
You a lot older than me
But we from the same C
See I'm still able (Abel) to kill big brother like I got Cain's gene
But wait, you everybody little homie, that's how I'ma know I'ma win
Cause you let Aye Verb say he passed you the torch and you older than him
Talkin' 'bout Mr. South Central
I find out where ya Vegas crib at and a time when I know he in it
Run in the crib and get to swingin' on the kids like Don't Be A Menace
I know y'all probably thought that was simple so let's make it a triple
I said I run in his place with a .38 soon as I see ya fam', that tre pop ten kids like Dashiki Man
This nigga be on Facebook takin' selfies with money
Like he got wild report
But couldn't battle Chilla out in Canada cause he owe child support
You mean to tell me, that he got $12,000 to pay Rex for a verse
But ain't got the decency to throw ya baby mama a couple hundred on the first?
See I'm a marksman, grip the baton and pallbearer him
Oh you the "Bar God"? Well meet a barbarian
Beat him with bars or bar bury him
Take out his nose to trace out his skull to carve letters in
Take out his jaw to paint whatever's left of his face on the wall to display it as art, I'll John Getty him
Calm, steady been, militant, machine gun
Arms heavy like Saddam sent me to bomb any
Body that's not from Iran's city, go kamikaze and Nazi on all enemies
Arm enemies, only to flash back like Vietnam trilogies
Artillery, armed with an army and our energy is called symmetry
It matches from our inner G
A bar industry, cut from the cloth and we are in the streets
My thoughts vividly dark, givin' me the smarts literally
To take apart with spark then paint every visually
When I write, it's like God's sittin' wit' me
We carve letters on the canvas together it cause symphonies
You paid to battle John John, I got paid to battle John John
My words got me this spot, you broke bread to get here
Nigga I earned my spot!
Smoov nigga!
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