[Round 1: Rum Nitty]
You musta been drinkin' Exclusiv Vodka that whole night
Had the fans thinkin' ”Damn, he drunk?”
I wasn’t gonna bring up the fact you was throwin' up
'Cause that just shows you definitely can’t handle Rum
I’m straight to it, nigga jump off and get the side piece
Or walk up, I’ll squeeze three in a row: flight seats
Gun Line King, I’ll put Roc on the body count: Ice-T
But these three rounds for hip hop like YG
We both professionals, but you a pup, under twenty still
So watch me get a body off this pro teen like it's Muscle Milk
Get cut for real, I’ll empty the clip and bring the razor back
The knife on the K in fact, bayonet
I’ll open the trunk and stuff your bae in that!
Get nervous, as soon as that K Shine he’ll break a sweat
I’ll let it sing while you’re just kickin' it, there’s no escapin' that!
Niggas forever hatin', I say fuck it, let ’em hate then
Metal break him, sit him down with the piece like meditation
Two weapons raisin', the .40 chrome and the 9 black
I’ll let one race in the building like segregation
Blowin' heavy smoke
Full clip, one in the hand cocked: Freddie Roach
I’ll let it blow, these live rounds I spit
You either die from one of these or suicide, now just pick
He tried to slide out and shit
Leg shot, the kid knees failed, if you wanna die I’ll assist
My whole team we spaz, niggas see me flash
Be cool, killer, I smack new niggas: PG class
You gassed, Nitty spit better, hella witty, shit clever
Your big bro had to die first for this bitch to get set up
You ain’t killin' shit, never
You got simple wit, a slave to my penmanship
Watch me black verse’ a nigga like a Willy Lynch letter
We got into it, his team was trippin'
I said ”Cool, we can get it.”
I turned around, pulled a Calicoe and didn’t see the bitches
Next time you should watch your fuckin' mouth in front of grown folks 'cause shit can get deep, I’m talkin' real deep: Tone Lōc
.45, .357, both smoke
I'm away from home but cookin' on the road: roach coach
I'll make your soul ghost, you don't know who you clashin' wit
Nitty swing one arm in a battle: I’ll do the Canibus!
Then hit a bum with a machine, I’ll do you bad as shit
Your blood will pour on film: Pursuit of Happyness!
They givin' niggas 50K for a battle?
Somebody need to cut me a check, 'cause I done put in work
I feel like I done earned enough of respect
Tell your fam go watch the battle at home
They gone be fuckin' upset
I’ma bring a ladder, give you the final four
They gone wanna cut off the net!
You can’t keep it real yourself
Nigga, suicide or I’ll do the job, you decide… kill yourself!
You musta been drinkin' Exclusiv Vodka that whole night
Had the fans thinkin' ”Damn, he drunk?”
I wasn’t gonna bring up the fact you was throwin' up
'Cause that just shows you definitely can’t handle Rum
I’m straight to it, nigga jump off and get the side piece
Or walk up, I’ll squeeze three in a row: flight seats
Gun Line King, I’ll put Roc on the body count: Ice-T
But these three rounds for hip hop like YG
We both professionals, but you a pup, under twenty still
So watch me get a body off this pro teen like it's Muscle Milk
Get cut for real, I’ll empty the clip and bring the razor back
The knife on the K in fact, bayonet
I’ll open the trunk and stuff your bae in that!
Get nervous, as soon as that K Shine he’ll break a sweat
I’ll let it sing while you’re just kickin' it, there’s no escapin' that!
Niggas forever hatin', I say fuck it, let ’em hate then
Metal break him, sit him down with the piece like meditation
Two weapons raisin', the .40 chrome and the 9 black
I’ll let one race in the building like segregation
Blowin' heavy smoke
Full clip, one in the hand cocked: Freddie Roach
I’ll let it blow, these live rounds I spit
You either die from one of these or suicide, now just pick
He tried to slide out and shit
Leg shot, the kid knees failed, if you wanna die I’ll assist
My whole team we spaz, niggas see me flash
Be cool, killer, I smack new niggas: PG class
You gassed, Nitty spit better, hella witty, shit clever
Your big bro had to die first for this bitch to get set up
You ain’t killin' shit, never
You got simple wit, a slave to my penmanship
Watch me black verse’ a nigga like a Willy Lynch letter
We got into it, his team was trippin'
I said ”Cool, we can get it.”
I turned around, pulled a Calicoe and didn’t see the bitches
Next time you should watch your fuckin' mouth in front of grown folks 'cause shit can get deep, I’m talkin' real deep: Tone Lōc
.45, .357, both smoke
I'm away from home but cookin' on the road: roach coach
I'll make your soul ghost, you don't know who you clashin' wit
Nitty swing one arm in a battle: I’ll do the Canibus!
Then hit a bum with a machine, I’ll do you bad as shit
Your blood will pour on film: Pursuit of Happyness!
They givin' niggas 50K for a battle?
Somebody need to cut me a check, 'cause I done put in work
I feel like I done earned enough of respect
Tell your fam go watch the battle at home
They gone be fuckin' upset
I’ma bring a ladder, give you the final four
They gone wanna cut off the net!
You can’t keep it real yourself
Nigga, suicide or I’ll do the job, you decide… kill yourself!
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