{Iron Solomon comes out and says he doesn't have an opponent yet for Summer Madness 8 and will battle whoever wins this}
[Round 1: Geechi Gotti]
Ain't you supposed to be on strike?
Heard you was mad at URL cause they wasn't payin' you right
But instead you up here rappin', so there's only one thing I gotta say here tonight
NIGGA YOU'S A BITCH
Enough witcha fake ass
This ratchet gettin' dumped over the head like her face trashed
The face mask, and some gloves on, you know I'm not finna play
Put the gun in ya mouth
Now remember, if you choke Smack dockin' ya pay
Yo Top where you stay?
I'll show up to ya spot with the damn work
Y'all will see T get tied up in the front like a fag searched him
The Mag burst
A full clip, no bullshit
Bitch I ain't stutter, a round cover ya top like The Chronic cover
Now y'all cover ya eyes, if you don't wanna see the boy T be clapped
Back shot, his disc skippin' like a CD scratch
Nigga we be strapped, with all kinda different Glocks
Catch you laid up wit' ya bitch, you and her gettin' shot
Soon as the trigger pop, they gon' find her laid back with a head in her lap, look like she gettin' top
Now look, I just got rid of a Shotgun, now a nigga owe me a pump
You sittin' here lookin', cause you just try to show me you tough
Baow, knock ya stomach over there, nigga go witcha gut
What the fuck?
Y'all got me battlin' this nigga, he a shell of himself
Close range, shootin' with the arm over the nose, look like I'm smellin' myself
Nigga self made, ask around
They'll tell you, "Gotti don't care he trippin'."
Head shot will turn Bizzy The Bear into Bizzy barely livin'
I live what I rap
Baow, they know I love them guns sounds, that's how I know that he clapped
The homies like, "Chill, Gotti you makin' way too much noise wit' the strap. Put a silencer on it."
Nigga for what? After he dead he get a whole fuckin' moment for that
Nigga who got ya back?
DNA? K? Tell me what Shine 'bout
He get a leg shot, Smith fuckin' up Cavs (calves) like JR ain't call that timeout
The nine out, I'ma bust mines then
So much blood on cuz, all you gon' see is Rain covering Shine like, "I'ma just tuck mines in."
Nigga, that shit you did to R Streetz was wack, that's when I knew you was weak
Typical sucker, got him a lil' money then he turned his back on the Streetz
But see I fuck with R Streetz, so to me that shit was gay
Cause I remember that shit
You was walkin' around that whole event like, "Buy my mixtape king."
On Nutty
All of a sudden you got on stage and you ain't got shit to say?
Well bitch let's play
I'll put this T in a box like it's Desiigner or some shit
Then show up to your funeral like, "Aye Carolina in this bitch?!"
No! If Top get a round then Top get a round
Head shot, hospital gown
He paralyzed so now wheelchair is the only way Top get around (a round)
On the block I was found, now I'm the hottest in this shit
You can ask the people to vote, I got the hood shit on lock from the street shit I quote
I heard you brought yo' mama to this battle...she must be proud to see you go to war with the Loc
Crackhead bitch only showed up cause she heard your opponent was dope
Bro you a joke
Ever since UFF, you been losin' it Top
You went from Surf all the way to me, that ought to tell you somethin' about you and your stock
Nigga you really flopped
See you supposed to be battlin' niggas like Tay, nigga not me
But you been on that losin' streak
I think he deserve to get that focused Top
Plus you might wanna spar wit' ya mama befo' that one
She can give you plenty tips about smokin' Roc(k)
Yo bro just stop
The fo' fo' black; Barack Obama
I heard you got a baby on the way...that's gonna bring all types of problems
Soon as she poke her head out, I'm airing her head out
She gettin' smacked with a lot of shots
The good news, you ain't gotta buy a casket, you can just stick that bitch back in her mama box
I lot of shots
Soon as we stop Top, he got God
Blaow, it'll be mo' blood on T(ee) than Rickey shirt when he got shot
The Glock hot, Top get twisted
Oh he the dread head, the coroner's lookin' at the body like "Ha ha. That nigga DEAD dead."
And all these niggas, rockin' this Yak Man shit, thinkin' that that curse shit a joke
Rockin' a cigarillo brand and wonder why y'all keep gettin' smoke
Now look, Yak, just provide me the figures
It's only right if Al Kapone (Capone) fuck wit' a Mafia nigga
And when it's real, y'all can tell, y'all can see it in they eyes
It's yo' turn see if you can make niggas believe them lies
Nigga time
[Round 1: Geechi Gotti]
Ain't you supposed to be on strike?
Heard you was mad at URL cause they wasn't payin' you right
But instead you up here rappin', so there's only one thing I gotta say here tonight
NIGGA YOU'S A BITCH
Enough witcha fake ass
This ratchet gettin' dumped over the head like her face trashed
The face mask, and some gloves on, you know I'm not finna play
Put the gun in ya mouth
Now remember, if you choke Smack dockin' ya pay
Yo Top where you stay?
I'll show up to ya spot with the damn work
Y'all will see T get tied up in the front like a fag searched him
The Mag burst
A full clip, no bullshit
Bitch I ain't stutter, a round cover ya top like The Chronic cover
Now y'all cover ya eyes, if you don't wanna see the boy T be clapped
Back shot, his disc skippin' like a CD scratch
Nigga we be strapped, with all kinda different Glocks
Catch you laid up wit' ya bitch, you and her gettin' shot
Soon as the trigger pop, they gon' find her laid back with a head in her lap, look like she gettin' top
Now look, I just got rid of a Shotgun, now a nigga owe me a pump
You sittin' here lookin', cause you just try to show me you tough
Baow, knock ya stomach over there, nigga go witcha gut
What the fuck?
Y'all got me battlin' this nigga, he a shell of himself
Close range, shootin' with the arm over the nose, look like I'm smellin' myself
Nigga self made, ask around
They'll tell you, "Gotti don't care he trippin'."
Head shot will turn Bizzy The Bear into Bizzy barely livin'
I live what I rap
Baow, they know I love them guns sounds, that's how I know that he clapped
The homies like, "Chill, Gotti you makin' way too much noise wit' the strap. Put a silencer on it."
Nigga for what? After he dead he get a whole fuckin' moment for that
Nigga who got ya back?
DNA? K? Tell me what Shine 'bout
He get a leg shot, Smith fuckin' up Cavs (calves) like JR ain't call that timeout
The nine out, I'ma bust mines then
So much blood on cuz, all you gon' see is Rain covering Shine like, "I'ma just tuck mines in."
Nigga, that shit you did to R Streetz was wack, that's when I knew you was weak
Typical sucker, got him a lil' money then he turned his back on the Streetz
But see I fuck with R Streetz, so to me that shit was gay
Cause I remember that shit
You was walkin' around that whole event like, "Buy my mixtape king."
On Nutty
All of a sudden you got on stage and you ain't got shit to say?
Well bitch let's play
I'll put this T in a box like it's Desiigner or some shit
Then show up to your funeral like, "Aye Carolina in this bitch?!"
No! If Top get a round then Top get a round
Head shot, hospital gown
He paralyzed so now wheelchair is the only way Top get around (a round)
On the block I was found, now I'm the hottest in this shit
You can ask the people to vote, I got the hood shit on lock from the street shit I quote
I heard you brought yo' mama to this battle...she must be proud to see you go to war with the Loc
Crackhead bitch only showed up cause she heard your opponent was dope
Bro you a joke
Ever since UFF, you been losin' it Top
You went from Surf all the way to me, that ought to tell you somethin' about you and your stock
Nigga you really flopped
See you supposed to be battlin' niggas like Tay, nigga not me
But you been on that losin' streak
I think he deserve to get that focused Top
Plus you might wanna spar wit' ya mama befo' that one
She can give you plenty tips about smokin' Roc(k)
Yo bro just stop
The fo' fo' black; Barack Obama
I heard you got a baby on the way...that's gonna bring all types of problems
Soon as she poke her head out, I'm airing her head out
She gettin' smacked with a lot of shots
The good news, you ain't gotta buy a casket, you can just stick that bitch back in her mama box
I lot of shots
Soon as we stop Top, he got God
Blaow, it'll be mo' blood on T(ee) than Rickey shirt when he got shot
The Glock hot, Top get twisted
Oh he the dread head, the coroner's lookin' at the body like "Ha ha. That nigga DEAD dead."
And all these niggas, rockin' this Yak Man shit, thinkin' that that curse shit a joke
Rockin' a cigarillo brand and wonder why y'all keep gettin' smoke
Now look, Yak, just provide me the figures
It's only right if Al Kapone (Capone) fuck wit' a Mafia nigga
And when it's real, y'all can tell, y'all can see it in they eyes
It's yo' turn see if you can make niggas believe them lies
Nigga time
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