[Round 1: Illmac]
Everybody's asking, "How Illmac's gonna adjust to the New York crowd?" I guess we're about to fucking see
See that's where they fucked up 'cause I don't adjust to crowds - crowds adjust to me
The difference is I don't swing and miss - and that's why they're duckin' me
You chase the big fish, I'd be like "Y'ALL BRING LUX TO ME!"
I caught that last 30 fresh off a tour
Half man, half God I'm Thor
What's next, slug fest - Gotti war
Ready to rumble from the start and do numbers on the card like a boxing scores
Mop the floor
Throw dirt on my name? I'll throw dirt on your rotten corpse
Think you fire till you get your body torched like Johnny Storm
Make 'em go solar, fuck the laws that crooked cops enforce
I'll be behind bars when this blow/Blow over like Boston George
What you want drama for?
Like you never lost before
Throw shots I throw 'em straight back - I been working on my posture more
This year, been on a run - Escobar in the Narco war
That's why they got me flaming money like Pablo tryna keep his daughter warm
I'm hot - dodge the warpath
Forecast? Lightening clouds ahead
Spray slugs 'til it rains blood, turn the sky brownish red
No sunny skies or butterflies as you climbing out of bed
Wake up to birds chirping - it's the concussion as they fly around his head
Permanent damage
It's a wrap for Blood: tourniquet bandage
Hears my name, and breaks out like allergic reactions
This is terminal cancer
See he knew he was dead when I hit the terminal, panicked
And tried to jet soon as he heard that I landed
I let 'em carry-on, that's personal baggage
Then take flight (*chh*) "Here's a word from your captain."
You ain't a G, that's plain to see/plane to sea like an emergency landing
You listen to him? You think he tucking the heater savage
Running the streets with ratchets
Or buck when the thing is brandished
You meet him? Ha, he's comfortable being average
Humble with decent manners
Reluctant and sheepish as a puppy who needs his master
But hold up - I only see a couple people reacting
I don't think that they understand it
I mean J ain't what he sounds like - fuck am I speaking Spanish?!
Mijo, it's either you a lick or you hitting licks
You know the hustle if you are
Talking birds'll get 'em clipped, pigeon shit - get to dumping on his car
With the shits, swisher lit
Get him gutted like cigars
Temple split, that's where I'll stick the pick like strumming a guitar
Everything core to my aura is more rare
I'm every ignored prayer in the Lord's ear
My worn souls disturb the grave of his corpse there
Receiving life through death and oxymoron like warfare/war fair
War, fair - don't think our wordplay's comparable
I'll make your birthplace your burial
But to kill you's merciful
Once stripped of purpose, you'll know living's a worst-case scenario
Suicide, written note, then his soul exit
Cut 'em slack, give 'em rope, watch 'em stick his own neck in
Bullet or a stab wound tattoo? Let him pick his own weapon
Then chopper or the blade: that's my stick-and-poke method!
Check it, they doubted me on this stage - ain't shit to me a different day
Last time I left New York with a Championship ring and 50K
At home in Cali, but came to NYC to hit a J
Guess all it took was an altered state to be seen in a different way
Everybody's asking, "How Illmac's gonna adjust to the New York crowd?" I guess we're about to fucking see
See that's where they fucked up 'cause I don't adjust to crowds - crowds adjust to me
The difference is I don't swing and miss - and that's why they're duckin' me
You chase the big fish, I'd be like "Y'ALL BRING LUX TO ME!"
I caught that last 30 fresh off a tour
Half man, half God I'm Thor
What's next, slug fest - Gotti war
Ready to rumble from the start and do numbers on the card like a boxing scores
Mop the floor
Throw dirt on my name? I'll throw dirt on your rotten corpse
Think you fire till you get your body torched like Johnny Storm
Make 'em go solar, fuck the laws that crooked cops enforce
I'll be behind bars when this blow/Blow over like Boston George
What you want drama for?
Like you never lost before
Throw shots I throw 'em straight back - I been working on my posture more
This year, been on a run - Escobar in the Narco war
That's why they got me flaming money like Pablo tryna keep his daughter warm
I'm hot - dodge the warpath
Forecast? Lightening clouds ahead
Spray slugs 'til it rains blood, turn the sky brownish red
No sunny skies or butterflies as you climbing out of bed
Wake up to birds chirping - it's the concussion as they fly around his head
Permanent damage
It's a wrap for Blood: tourniquet bandage
Hears my name, and breaks out like allergic reactions
This is terminal cancer
See he knew he was dead when I hit the terminal, panicked
And tried to jet soon as he heard that I landed
I let 'em carry-on, that's personal baggage
Then take flight (*chh*) "Here's a word from your captain."
You ain't a G, that's plain to see/plane to sea like an emergency landing
You listen to him? You think he tucking the heater savage
Running the streets with ratchets
Or buck when the thing is brandished
You meet him? Ha, he's comfortable being average
Humble with decent manners
Reluctant and sheepish as a puppy who needs his master
But hold up - I only see a couple people reacting
I don't think that they understand it
I mean J ain't what he sounds like - fuck am I speaking Spanish?!
Mijo, it's either you a lick or you hitting licks
You know the hustle if you are
Talking birds'll get 'em clipped, pigeon shit - get to dumping on his car
With the shits, swisher lit
Get him gutted like cigars
Temple split, that's where I'll stick the pick like strumming a guitar
Everything core to my aura is more rare
I'm every ignored prayer in the Lord's ear
My worn souls disturb the grave of his corpse there
Receiving life through death and oxymoron like warfare/war fair
War, fair - don't think our wordplay's comparable
I'll make your birthplace your burial
But to kill you's merciful
Once stripped of purpose, you'll know living's a worst-case scenario
Suicide, written note, then his soul exit
Cut 'em slack, give 'em rope, watch 'em stick his own neck in
Bullet or a stab wound tattoo? Let him pick his own weapon
Then chopper or the blade: that's my stick-and-poke method!
Check it, they doubted me on this stage - ain't shit to me a different day
Last time I left New York with a Championship ring and 50K
At home in Cali, but came to NYC to hit a J
Guess all it took was an altered state to be seen in a different way
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