[Round 1: Geechi Gotti]
So we got Geechi Gotti versus...
I heard you like to hit girls, you hoe-ass nigga
So maybe it’s time I give this bitch a beatin’
Head shot, blow his brains on his mama, tell this trick to clean it
I’ll make sure your dome’ll stick on a bitch got a different meaning
Dome’ll stick? Domestic? What, a nigga reachin’?
So what? The pole dump
And I kept a grip for this pussy like the old Trump
(Every bar, man)
Now hold up
What, your words ain’t work on her, so you had to use your fists?
I already heard what happened
You hit her, she ate it (*ptoo*)
Looked at you and said, “Nigga, you’se a BITCH!”
Every. Fuckin’. Bar!
You’se a fag and it’s plain to see!
Think about his Multiple Choices
His answer’s always...
See, you’se a queer, bro
Top-of-the-line weirdo
You threw a nigga chain in the crowd like, “Go and get it”
Bitch, throw my chain in the crowd, you goin’ wit’ it!
And bro, I’m trippin’!
They said you gotta get personal to beat him!
He one of the scariest vets
For real, “Every battle you had before him was barely a threat”
The homies like, “So did you find any dirt on John John?”
I’m like, “Nah, cuz, we ain’t buried him yet!”
Yeah, on the set!
I’ll show up to your house, catch ya lil’ man and slump him: it’s bedtime
Then I’ll throw the gun on the pillow
Y’all gon’ realize why I’m Mr. Disrespectful wit’ the next line
When he come in the house and find his baby laid in bed next to a TEC-9 (Tech 9)!
The West mine!
Bitch, I run that region
Soon as they booked this, y’all know he fucked, like he left wit’ her and he come back cheesin’
What are you smilin’ fo’?
Just ‘cause my gun Lil, John (Jon), don’t mean shit sweet, my boy
The bullet’ll enter south and come out ya Eastside, Boy (Boyz)!
This ain’t crunk music!
You jump stupid, and I’mma shoot ‘til there ain’t no more shells in the shotgun
I’m dumb ruthless
I’m still on top of this bitch after I’m done bustin’...but the pump’s useless!
What!? What!?
I’ve been on some cool shit, but now I’m finna change on him
He don’t gotta be in a gang - guns still finna BANG on him!
Let my nuts hang on him
He ain’t gon’ do shit
He was already leakin’ from the head shot
This chest shot gave him some new drip
Ooh, shit!
Look...motherfucker, I will beat this nigga ass
I’m talkin’ ‘bout pistol-whippin’
Yeah, ‘til both his eyes both swell
And you gon’ see the skull crack and bone hangin’ out his top like Sideshow Mel
This ain’t a cartoon, I’m a grown-ass man
I’ll blow your brains on Avocado and the crew
So whatever they don’t see in the building, I guarantee they’ll catch it on cam’!
Nigga, my gun go “Blam!”, get his toe tagged up
Then he goin’ in a tight box like the first nigga Jaz let fuck!
This nigga suck!
He mad that I battled Surf ‘cause he wanna battle Surf so bad
He be on Twitter ravin’ and rantin’ ‘til his face all red
Bad barber: he steady askin’ for the Wave, I just gave him a Bald Head
Aw, yeah, the face shot dent his grill
He gon’ need insurance for them damages
What the fuck is Multiple Choices? Now he got Multiple Bandages
Nigga, we savages
This nigga JJ ain’t really built like that
Bruh’ll get popped
The .40 shootin’, or I could have the .50 poppin’ like when “Wanksta” just dropped
You ain’t a gangsta! Just stop!
Nigga, these is all facts
Niggas like you and DNA be happy y’all can talk crazy to niggas like me, ‘cause y’all can disguise it as “all rap”
But, see, I’m wit’ all that
Y’all niggas Internet gangstas
If y’all ain’t @‘in’ and taggin’ a nigga, it don’t feel right
Me? I’d rather get at (@) and tag a nigga in real life!
And I feel like Vada Fly gon’ recap this and say Gotti caught a 30 on the Don bro
Headshot, watch him die slow
The coroner said the victim was nameless, but somehow his mama still knew it was John tho’ (Doe)
And when it’s real, y’all can tell
Y’all can see it in his eyes
Yo’ turn - see if you can make niggas believe them lies
(Nigga, time)
So we got Geechi Gotti versus...
I heard you like to hit girls, you hoe-ass nigga
So maybe it’s time I give this bitch a beatin’
Head shot, blow his brains on his mama, tell this trick to clean it
I’ll make sure your dome’ll stick on a bitch got a different meaning
Dome’ll stick? Domestic? What, a nigga reachin’?
So what? The pole dump
And I kept a grip for this pussy like the old Trump
(Every bar, man)
Now hold up
What, your words ain’t work on her, so you had to use your fists?
I already heard what happened
You hit her, she ate it (*ptoo*)
Looked at you and said, “Nigga, you’se a BITCH!”
Every. Fuckin’. Bar!
You’se a fag and it’s plain to see!
Think about his Multiple Choices
His answer’s always...
See, you’se a queer, bro
Top-of-the-line weirdo
You threw a nigga chain in the crowd like, “Go and get it”
Bitch, throw my chain in the crowd, you goin’ wit’ it!
And bro, I’m trippin’!
They said you gotta get personal to beat him!
He one of the scariest vets
For real, “Every battle you had before him was barely a threat”
The homies like, “So did you find any dirt on John John?”
I’m like, “Nah, cuz, we ain’t buried him yet!”
Yeah, on the set!
I’ll show up to your house, catch ya lil’ man and slump him: it’s bedtime
Then I’ll throw the gun on the pillow
Y’all gon’ realize why I’m Mr. Disrespectful wit’ the next line
When he come in the house and find his baby laid in bed next to a TEC-9 (Tech 9)!
The West mine!
Bitch, I run that region
Soon as they booked this, y’all know he fucked, like he left wit’ her and he come back cheesin’
What are you smilin’ fo’?
Just ‘cause my gun Lil, John (Jon), don’t mean shit sweet, my boy
The bullet’ll enter south and come out ya Eastside, Boy (Boyz)!
This ain’t crunk music!
You jump stupid, and I’mma shoot ‘til there ain’t no more shells in the shotgun
I’m dumb ruthless
I’m still on top of this bitch after I’m done bustin’...but the pump’s useless!
What!? What!?
I’ve been on some cool shit, but now I’m finna change on him
He don’t gotta be in a gang - guns still finna BANG on him!
Let my nuts hang on him
He ain’t gon’ do shit
He was already leakin’ from the head shot
This chest shot gave him some new drip
Ooh, shit!
Look...motherfucker, I will beat this nigga ass
I’m talkin’ ‘bout pistol-whippin’
Yeah, ‘til both his eyes both swell
And you gon’ see the skull crack and bone hangin’ out his top like Sideshow Mel
This ain’t a cartoon, I’m a grown-ass man
I’ll blow your brains on Avocado and the crew
So whatever they don’t see in the building, I guarantee they’ll catch it on cam’!
Nigga, my gun go “Blam!”, get his toe tagged up
Then he goin’ in a tight box like the first nigga Jaz let fuck!
This nigga suck!
He mad that I battled Surf ‘cause he wanna battle Surf so bad
He be on Twitter ravin’ and rantin’ ‘til his face all red
Bad barber: he steady askin’ for the Wave, I just gave him a Bald Head
Aw, yeah, the face shot dent his grill
He gon’ need insurance for them damages
What the fuck is Multiple Choices? Now he got Multiple Bandages
Nigga, we savages
This nigga JJ ain’t really built like that
Bruh’ll get popped
The .40 shootin’, or I could have the .50 poppin’ like when “Wanksta” just dropped
You ain’t a gangsta! Just stop!
Nigga, these is all facts
Niggas like you and DNA be happy y’all can talk crazy to niggas like me, ‘cause y’all can disguise it as “all rap”
But, see, I’m wit’ all that
Y’all niggas Internet gangstas
If y’all ain’t @‘in’ and taggin’ a nigga, it don’t feel right
Me? I’d rather get at (@) and tag a nigga in real life!
And I feel like Vada Fly gon’ recap this and say Gotti caught a 30 on the Don bro
Headshot, watch him die slow
The coroner said the victim was nameless, but somehow his mama still knew it was John tho’ (Doe)
And when it’s real, y’all can tell
Y’all can see it in his eyes
Yo’ turn - see if you can make niggas believe them lies
(Nigga, time)
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