Rum Nitty vs. Holmzie Da God URLtv (Ft. Holmzie Da God & Rum Nitty)

[Round 1: Holmzie Da God]
I asked for you in 2018, 2019, 2020
They said, "no" every time because you lack my ascension
Aye P, I've been askin' the same question for years and y'all just now gettin' it (Nit')?
I see you niggas lack comprehension
Cause we all know you number one on the app
And I don't give a fuck or care less how this guy might feel
Cause I've studied every move you could possibly make
And now that I know how y'all favorite plays
This shit finna be a highlight reel
Your last opponent told you how big a fan he is
I used to be one too
I can't pretend bro
But then I remembered I grew up in the hood with no AC
So all that fan shit went out the window
Nigga so what you they favorite
Catch you lackin' with a 24 karat Desert Eagle
Up it, squeeze and blast
I'll pull up, hop out with a golden cal' (cow) and baow (bow) to an idol
And this shit'll make Jesus mad
If you the final guy, I'll make shit difficult for you
I'm talkin' paranoia and hella trouble in ya vibes
I find him, we killin' son
It's gonna be blood all on the door and a whole bunch on my .9
But if I get a location on where this loc is (locust)
We pullin' up where you reside
And as soon as we get the call that fam' in (famine) the Lan'
We gon' make sure that nothin' survive
You motherfuckers know the vibes
Me killin' this nigga will help y'all sleep better at night
"Blood on the door", "killin' son" "locust" "famine"
This loss gon' plague you for the rest of your life
Blade out, leave a slit in ya neck
You' gon' lose your voice if you take too long to get it sutured up
Ain't it crazy what one small ripple effects?
Nigga this shit'll fuck your whole future up
Ruger's tucked, MAC's, AK's, TEC-9's and all kinda shit
Cause my pistol play outta this world
And shit tend to up and disappear when mine'll lift (monolith)
But let me guess
You see your ops and let the .380 shoot after you done ringin' 'em up at the Wal-Mart
Nigga stop, you baby Groot cause this lil' muhfucker is all bark
But when Rum punch, niggas get punch drunk
Well let's see if he can fuck with me
Better yet, scratch Rum punch, I'ma stay away from the bars with alcohol in 'em, I'm in recovery
Luckily, he ain't die when I left his show red with the Smith &
Recovery? That's cause he at the hospital door...and the first step is admission
I caught Rum and his homies lackin'
But I ain't the nigga that they wanted to see
They ain't gon' get a bullet though, it'll just be cuz' (because)
For any reason that I want it to be
But let you niggas run up on me and that's exactly when the Glock finna spray
It's gonna be slow singin' and a whole bunch of plot diggin' today
One of ya homies gettin' clapped
The other gettin' knocked out honestly cause, I am not finna play
I'm talkin' shoot your right hand, then knock one of your lil' friends
Like your mama used to say
I'm dangerous with these guns
Boy, I do this shit so gracious
A bullet flew as soon as the arm popped out, and this loc ate it (dislocated)
Clip blazin', keep squeezin' 'til this shit is all full of nothin'
Dislocated? That was off the muscle, all from me pullin' somethin'
Bullets dumpin'
Bitch I'm a fool clappin' birds
It's all fun and games 'til my hand on the stick, than I up the grip
We seein' who battin' first
They told me this was a dummy mission, he got nothin' for me
Don't fuckin' bore me
This whole battle I'ma be upstairs, but that's another story
I'm clutchin' shorty, pistol whip, strike him with the Sig' once
Then the 'matic pop, static shock, I'll light this nigga lid up
Then what?
A Glock prolly, a cocked shotty
Y'all gon' see a bullet hit Rum in the tee (tea) like a hot tottie
Do not try me
Niggas know how I give it up, so why play
Everybody wanna call God out by his name
Until I'm sendin' bullets y'all way (Yahweh)
It's my day
And I bring a different type of feel to niggas
So like a realtor nigga
When you doin' all them Holmz flips, just make sure it sound real to niggas
Cause there's rounds like this...
Round