[Round 1: Xcel]
After I killed Daylyt, this nigga called me broke in the heart
Like, "X I gotta avenge Day'," straight provokin' my thoughts
But his death, was my start
You ain't notice the plot how I kill these west natives like I'm Lois and Clark?
Get broken, in parts, with disrespect
When I'm enforcin' you'll be bored still, cold, in a morgue bitch
It's Team Homi, we not the ones to go to war wit'
We make the news and I think Dan Rather report shit
And cop endorsements? I really ain't havin' that
Talk crazy beef, I'll bring mad cals (cows) this cat will snap
Two choices, after that
Either your gat will clap or flee or shots running back like tattle tats
I've been distracted, that caused me to write some average raps
And have debateables when I should've been trashin' cats
That also caused the fans to question where my path is at
So I have to whip God to show my passion back
I have a Shaq attack, post up, bang and basket down
Skinny but obese on the street, that's cause I'm packin' pounds
You act tough, then you come you get a wrap around
{Chokes}
[Round 1: Danny Myers]
I'll break a wooden bat across his head...just to Splinter 'Cel (Cell)
Bullets will do life in his body soon as they enter 'Cel (cell)
I send a shell, I'm a demon, he can't be badder
Give me space cause once she see this black hole not even your auntie (anti) matters
Fuck top tier, popularity or who's the savviest
This about bars, not the money or who's the flashiest
At a point I was homeless so that should let you know I Will, Smith you in my Pursuit Of Happyness
But I'ma still give him his props cause he was homeless too, so you shouldn't mind to live in a box
I'm tired of shootin' niggas, tryin' to put the gun down before it's his turn
Tried to convince my Tre not to leave the house like Laurence Fishburne
I'll have a man climb through your second story window
We on the porch with them kids up flared
We kicked in the do', everybody got they hands up scared
He fled to the second floor
Now how ironic he 'bout to be sent to Heaven by the man upstairs
Me fuckin' his bitch is like a jail case
Cause we both be sharin' a box with 'Cel (cell) mate
We open cans at the back of his whip like a tailgate
He'll find his bitch stiff on the floor that's a stale mate
Yo' white fans love you, they're amazed you can spit this well
Ironic cause it's only the blacks that's gettin' sick of 'Cel (Sickle Cell)
I spit the shells, handle beef on the spot, I don't take time
I flashed the nine so many times I should be on Dateline
When I zone in, I make grown men bones bend
Every figure hard in my circle welcome to Stonehenge
You one dimensional, how can there be limits with a god?
You Cesare Borgia you just portray the image of a god
But it's cool, he catchin' all razor blades when my squad spot him
They only gon' find 5% of the god body
You look like you smoke crystal, well I got some shards and some rocks to bring ya
If I show him a pipe I bet his lungs hit the glass like an opera singer
Gang life, we live blocks from where our rivals stay
My Crip uncles reigned as the Loc-est (locus) without the Bible plague
You in survival stage
When it's war, my niggas go for the stock
Arms wrestle for your life but that might be Over The Top
You'll be uncomfortable, five inch blade I'm comin' to puncture you
I gave him eleven sharp I told the nigga I'm punctual
God of battlin', greatest ever, these are the words that define me
In my past, I did some shit that was certainly grimy
I shot a nigga seven times
Even though I threw the bird over my shoulder I can't put the murder behind me
This a homi, like the Jason flick and all of those damn sequels
I'm at yo' front do' with a Posse like Mario Van Peebles
I take him to the edge of a mountain, I'ma hold his neck
In order for me to move on with my life I'ma have to let go of ex (X)
I'll blow the TEC and you on the ground wit' this shit
This wack MC got another two rounds of this shit
YIKES!
After I killed Daylyt, this nigga called me broke in the heart
Like, "X I gotta avenge Day'," straight provokin' my thoughts
But his death, was my start
You ain't notice the plot how I kill these west natives like I'm Lois and Clark?
Get broken, in parts, with disrespect
When I'm enforcin' you'll be bored still, cold, in a morgue bitch
It's Team Homi, we not the ones to go to war wit'
We make the news and I think Dan Rather report shit
And cop endorsements? I really ain't havin' that
Talk crazy beef, I'll bring mad cals (cows) this cat will snap
Two choices, after that
Either your gat will clap or flee or shots running back like tattle tats
I've been distracted, that caused me to write some average raps
And have debateables when I should've been trashin' cats
That also caused the fans to question where my path is at
So I have to whip God to show my passion back
I have a Shaq attack, post up, bang and basket down
Skinny but obese on the street, that's cause I'm packin' pounds
You act tough, then you come you get a wrap around
{Chokes}
[Round 1: Danny Myers]
I'll break a wooden bat across his head...just to Splinter 'Cel (Cell)
Bullets will do life in his body soon as they enter 'Cel (cell)
I send a shell, I'm a demon, he can't be badder
Give me space cause once she see this black hole not even your auntie (anti) matters
Fuck top tier, popularity or who's the savviest
This about bars, not the money or who's the flashiest
At a point I was homeless so that should let you know I Will, Smith you in my Pursuit Of Happyness
But I'ma still give him his props cause he was homeless too, so you shouldn't mind to live in a box
I'm tired of shootin' niggas, tryin' to put the gun down before it's his turn
Tried to convince my Tre not to leave the house like Laurence Fishburne
I'll have a man climb through your second story window
We on the porch with them kids up flared
We kicked in the do', everybody got they hands up scared
He fled to the second floor
Now how ironic he 'bout to be sent to Heaven by the man upstairs
Me fuckin' his bitch is like a jail case
Cause we both be sharin' a box with 'Cel (cell) mate
We open cans at the back of his whip like a tailgate
He'll find his bitch stiff on the floor that's a stale mate
Yo' white fans love you, they're amazed you can spit this well
Ironic cause it's only the blacks that's gettin' sick of 'Cel (Sickle Cell)
I spit the shells, handle beef on the spot, I don't take time
I flashed the nine so many times I should be on Dateline
When I zone in, I make grown men bones bend
Every figure hard in my circle welcome to Stonehenge
You one dimensional, how can there be limits with a god?
You Cesare Borgia you just portray the image of a god
But it's cool, he catchin' all razor blades when my squad spot him
They only gon' find 5% of the god body
You look like you smoke crystal, well I got some shards and some rocks to bring ya
If I show him a pipe I bet his lungs hit the glass like an opera singer
Gang life, we live blocks from where our rivals stay
My Crip uncles reigned as the Loc-est (locus) without the Bible plague
You in survival stage
When it's war, my niggas go for the stock
Arms wrestle for your life but that might be Over The Top
You'll be uncomfortable, five inch blade I'm comin' to puncture you
I gave him eleven sharp I told the nigga I'm punctual
God of battlin', greatest ever, these are the words that define me
In my past, I did some shit that was certainly grimy
I shot a nigga seven times
Even though I threw the bird over my shoulder I can't put the murder behind me
This a homi, like the Jason flick and all of those damn sequels
I'm at yo' front do' with a Posse like Mario Van Peebles
I take him to the edge of a mountain, I'ma hold his neck
In order for me to move on with my life I'ma have to let go of ex (X)
I'll blow the TEC and you on the ground wit' this shit
This wack MC got another two rounds of this shit
YIKES!
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