[Round 1: Yung Ill]
I'ma star, that's my lane, dig it
Every bar that I slang wicked
Y'all waitin' to see if he wanna party
Nigga, my gang kicked it as soon as Smack sent my stack and booked my plane ticket
I don't know the word "play"
But I'm strapped without a strap
Many semi-automatic wordplay and my aim vicious
You confident in ya Arsonal until you run into a Hitman
Then me and Hitman in the same business
I give a fuck if you came with it, nigga, bang wit' it
Cause tellin' me you make it squirt just gon' make it worse
And we gon' see if them chimps you call "soldiers" think war fair when I gorilla warfare ate ya turf
Answer me this, when I'm blazin' them shells who's Saved By The Bell?
Them shots Screech and they get hearsed
You softer than Zack, but act like a K'll burst
Get found by the Bayside laid in dirt
If you don't have a vest for ya chest that fits like AC Slatter's shirt
I keep the paramedics and police stressin' when I squeeze weapons
Get a C-section, this how that .8'll work
Get to bangin' 'til yo' intestines hangin' like an umbilical cord
And we don't know if it's someone's date of death or date of birth
I've seen every battle when DNA get murked
Coincidental, ya team still get excited for you
Meaning ya dick riders are grade A, D HD, they get hyper for you
Think you the shit 'til I'm in the shit with no baby wipes or diapers for you
Preachin' four clips on this pulpit
Your sermons are bullshit
And to make it worse, Charlie Clips writes 'em for you
So all that rah-rah blah blah
Bye bye
When you through speakin', you get no respect for recitin'
When Clips does the writin' and Cortez does the proof readin'
Which means Clips does this {writes on his hand}
With his big ass
Then he hands yo' book over
Cortez puts his world into ya pad
Ya verses are like the ugliest girl in the class cause they always gettin' looked over
You got a team full of shook soldiers, my hood rose and we don't play fair
I get to wiggin', you get to weavin', a lot of fake hair
The handle is I handle biz, you couldn't handle the kid in a daycare
I would tell you, "Put your money where your mouth is" but it ain't safe there
You're the youngest nigga in URL, but ya mouth old
{Yung Ill whistles}
You can do that, with ya mouth closed
We had bets on whether or not you was gon' come dirty
I won
And matter of fact I'm lookin' for grub stacks
When you walked in...that sweatshirt did not match that skull cap
Now let me do a little freestyle since that's what you like to do
I got a confession, we got a lil' confession from somebody in ya crew
So don't be surprised when it comes to round 2
And he go to the crowd like, "Y'all say a word and I need some participation from you."
So say Verb ain't welcome in the NY, well ask me "Why?"
He got a text and I sent 'em back, that's somebody who told me from yo' crew
Now you tell me was it a lie
I'ma star, that's my lane, dig it
Every bar that I slang wicked
Y'all waitin' to see if he wanna party
Nigga, my gang kicked it as soon as Smack sent my stack and booked my plane ticket
I don't know the word "play"
But I'm strapped without a strap
Many semi-automatic wordplay and my aim vicious
You confident in ya Arsonal until you run into a Hitman
Then me and Hitman in the same business
I give a fuck if you came with it, nigga, bang wit' it
Cause tellin' me you make it squirt just gon' make it worse
And we gon' see if them chimps you call "soldiers" think war fair when I gorilla warfare ate ya turf
Answer me this, when I'm blazin' them shells who's Saved By The Bell?
Them shots Screech and they get hearsed
You softer than Zack, but act like a K'll burst
Get found by the Bayside laid in dirt
If you don't have a vest for ya chest that fits like AC Slatter's shirt
I keep the paramedics and police stressin' when I squeeze weapons
Get a C-section, this how that .8'll work
Get to bangin' 'til yo' intestines hangin' like an umbilical cord
And we don't know if it's someone's date of death or date of birth
I've seen every battle when DNA get murked
Coincidental, ya team still get excited for you
Meaning ya dick riders are grade A, D HD, they get hyper for you
Think you the shit 'til I'm in the shit with no baby wipes or diapers for you
Preachin' four clips on this pulpit
Your sermons are bullshit
And to make it worse, Charlie Clips writes 'em for you
So all that rah-rah blah blah
Bye bye
When you through speakin', you get no respect for recitin'
When Clips does the writin' and Cortez does the proof readin'
Which means Clips does this {writes on his hand}
With his big ass
Then he hands yo' book over
Cortez puts his world into ya pad
Ya verses are like the ugliest girl in the class cause they always gettin' looked over
You got a team full of shook soldiers, my hood rose and we don't play fair
I get to wiggin', you get to weavin', a lot of fake hair
The handle is I handle biz, you couldn't handle the kid in a daycare
I would tell you, "Put your money where your mouth is" but it ain't safe there
You're the youngest nigga in URL, but ya mouth old
{Yung Ill whistles}
You can do that, with ya mouth closed
We had bets on whether or not you was gon' come dirty
I won
And matter of fact I'm lookin' for grub stacks
When you walked in...that sweatshirt did not match that skull cap
Now let me do a little freestyle since that's what you like to do
I got a confession, we got a lil' confession from somebody in ya crew
So don't be surprised when it comes to round 2
And he go to the crowd like, "Y'all say a word and I need some participation from you."
So say Verb ain't welcome in the NY, well ask me "Why?"
He got a text and I sent 'em back, that's somebody who told me from yo' crew
Now you tell me was it a lie
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