Tsu Surf & Tay Roc vs. K-Shine & DNA URLtv (Ft. DNA (Battle Rapper), Gun Titles, K-Shine, NWX, Tay Roc & Tsu Surf)
[Round 1: Tsu Surf & (Tay Roc)]
I called Roc like, “Yo, cuz,” (I was with a bad bitch)
Got some cash on some ho’s head
(You know I’m with a fast flip)
Dead or alive, (buttoned shirt with the bag zipped)
Boy, I have Roc on your ass like the Fast 6
(Aye, I tell my shooters “Paul Walker”)
But that just means crash whips
(Everybody get an arm in their face), but I won’t dab shit
Yo, we brought two twin ninas, (extendos), mad clips
(Me and Surf drivin' through New York), on some fast shit
(He hopped out, ain’t let the whip stop), I’m tryna blast shit
(I jump with the ratchet sister like, “Yas, bitch!”)
We got a problem, Houston; (Whitney)
I bring a bitch with bald heads; (Britney)
Could put it on the house, (this shit smokin' like a chimney)
Entry wound like a dime, (exit wound like a frisbee)
100-round drum makes the shootin' shit easy
(Big T fingers after lunch; do ‘em greasy)
Before the shot, (Hanes shirt), after the shot, (Yeezy)
Before the cut, (Shumpert), after the cut, (Beasley)
I’ll make a phone call, find out where they all be
(We let gloves cover the arm; that’s a long sleeve)
Four four with the wood handle, I’ll pull a palm tree
(Before the shot), Big T, (after the shot), Tall T
Pistol whippin', pull the pistol grippin' from the light side
(He ain’t know how much the heat weighted)
It beat his meat to the white side
(That’s hospital beds, I’m insurin' the tubes)
With mashed potatoes, applesauce, and Ensure in the tubes
(I’m comin' to get him myself, I ain’t payin' killers)
It’s gon’ be nurses, stitches, bandages, and painkillers
(You, you, Saga, Big T, y’all gon’ need backup)
Or it’s Martin reruns, in the bed with the back up
(It’s gon’ be shells on the ground
He’s faced down with his ass out)
And wake up in the hospital bed in a gown with his ass out
(One phone call, hella V's, they’re surroundin' y’all
Bunch of goons, clappin' at the niggas, they’re proud of y’all)
I’ll put a whole ki on his head; that’s a powder call
Pause, (have a bunch of niggas)
Try to hit him like the Powerball
These hammers ain’t for construction
How I grip it and bang it (What else?)
Whole whip gettin' sprayed, it ain’t gettin' repainted
(What else?) Roll him over on his back
(Fuck, that nigga done fainted?)
Boy, you look like a cop, (I’ll put this pig in a blanket)
Hang his daughter over the balcony, I’ll give her the Blanket
(Eight ounces of sizzy in the baby bottle
I’ll get her to drink it)
That Lenscrafter shit was genius
(This new shit spit four blocks)
MK with the binoculars, I got Michael Kors watch
(That last shit was crazy, Shine
I shouldn’t have disrespected your daughter)
I ain’t hear you, what you say to him?
(That last shit was crazy, I shouldn’t have disrespected his daughter)
Nah, fuck that, Roc, if I’m open, I’ma Kyle Korv' her
Two bodies, two choirs, they’re gon’ need more singers
If I miss with our 26, I’ll pull that long nick, the Porzingis
(Fuck we got to put it in Gun Titles or somethin'?
That means get her outta here
If I got to hit her with the metal and lake her
They’re gon’ have to fish her outta there
Fuck battle rap, you know I really don’t like you, no fakin')
We’re some bad boys too, we’ll do ‘em like the Zoe Haitians
(We put in work like we made reservations), no waitin'
(Show up to your funeral)
To make sure you’re in (urine)-side like probation
(Somebody get the box out)
That’s how you get the board on him
(I’ll give him a shit bag, take it, shake it, then pour it on him)
That silver near like a souvenir, I bought it for him
(K was the intended receiver), but D back caught it for him
Black wheelchair, black dress
We gon’ make sure his mama there
.24 wavin' out, playin' like the Mamba there
(But Roc ain’t gon’ miss shells, you’ll need Obamacare
Coroners gon’ have to zip ‘em up
And get ‘em the fuck outta here)
I called Roc like, “Yo, cuz,” (I was with a bad bitch)
Got some cash on some ho’s head
(You know I’m with a fast flip)
Dead or alive, (buttoned shirt with the bag zipped)
Boy, I have Roc on your ass like the Fast 6
(Aye, I tell my shooters “Paul Walker”)
But that just means crash whips
(Everybody get an arm in their face), but I won’t dab shit
Yo, we brought two twin ninas, (extendos), mad clips
(Me and Surf drivin' through New York), on some fast shit
(He hopped out, ain’t let the whip stop), I’m tryna blast shit
(I jump with the ratchet sister like, “Yas, bitch!”)
We got a problem, Houston; (Whitney)
I bring a bitch with bald heads; (Britney)
Could put it on the house, (this shit smokin' like a chimney)
Entry wound like a dime, (exit wound like a frisbee)
100-round drum makes the shootin' shit easy
(Big T fingers after lunch; do ‘em greasy)
Before the shot, (Hanes shirt), after the shot, (Yeezy)
Before the cut, (Shumpert), after the cut, (Beasley)
I’ll make a phone call, find out where they all be
(We let gloves cover the arm; that’s a long sleeve)
Four four with the wood handle, I’ll pull a palm tree
(Before the shot), Big T, (after the shot), Tall T
Pistol whippin', pull the pistol grippin' from the light side
(He ain’t know how much the heat weighted)
It beat his meat to the white side
(That’s hospital beds, I’m insurin' the tubes)
With mashed potatoes, applesauce, and Ensure in the tubes
(I’m comin' to get him myself, I ain’t payin' killers)
It’s gon’ be nurses, stitches, bandages, and painkillers
(You, you, Saga, Big T, y’all gon’ need backup)
Or it’s Martin reruns, in the bed with the back up
(It’s gon’ be shells on the ground
He’s faced down with his ass out)
And wake up in the hospital bed in a gown with his ass out
(One phone call, hella V's, they’re surroundin' y’all
Bunch of goons, clappin' at the niggas, they’re proud of y’all)
I’ll put a whole ki on his head; that’s a powder call
Pause, (have a bunch of niggas)
Try to hit him like the Powerball
These hammers ain’t for construction
How I grip it and bang it (What else?)
Whole whip gettin' sprayed, it ain’t gettin' repainted
(What else?) Roll him over on his back
(Fuck, that nigga done fainted?)
Boy, you look like a cop, (I’ll put this pig in a blanket)
Hang his daughter over the balcony, I’ll give her the Blanket
(Eight ounces of sizzy in the baby bottle
I’ll get her to drink it)
That Lenscrafter shit was genius
(This new shit spit four blocks)
MK with the binoculars, I got Michael Kors watch
(That last shit was crazy, Shine
I shouldn’t have disrespected your daughter)
I ain’t hear you, what you say to him?
(That last shit was crazy, I shouldn’t have disrespected his daughter)
Nah, fuck that, Roc, if I’m open, I’ma Kyle Korv' her
Two bodies, two choirs, they’re gon’ need more singers
If I miss with our 26, I’ll pull that long nick, the Porzingis
(Fuck we got to put it in Gun Titles or somethin'?
That means get her outta here
If I got to hit her with the metal and lake her
They’re gon’ have to fish her outta there
Fuck battle rap, you know I really don’t like you, no fakin')
We’re some bad boys too, we’ll do ‘em like the Zoe Haitians
(We put in work like we made reservations), no waitin'
(Show up to your funeral)
To make sure you’re in (urine)-side like probation
(Somebody get the box out)
That’s how you get the board on him
(I’ll give him a shit bag, take it, shake it, then pour it on him)
That silver near like a souvenir, I bought it for him
(K was the intended receiver), but D back caught it for him
Black wheelchair, black dress
We gon’ make sure his mama there
.24 wavin' out, playin' like the Mamba there
(But Roc ain’t gon’ miss shells, you’ll need Obamacare
Coroners gon’ have to zip ‘em up
And get ‘em the fuck outta here)
Comments (0)
The minimum comment length is 50 characters.