[Round 1: Glueazy]
Bitch, you fake as fuck!
Can’t front like you gangsta to us
For that shit you done to Ryda, you a snake in the brush
Bangers’ll bust, the doc gon’ have to staple him up
I’ll have blood runnin’ down Ave, like it’s late for the bus
Ya man wanna play? I’ll shoot the crowd up: Mandalay Bay
Pick a fight
A stick of dynamite’ll damage a Cave
Think I’mma believe he got all these hammers to spray?
Wit’ all this V.A. beef, and he never put his hands on a K
But wanna fight the boy
Why? ‘Cause I’m white? Yeah, right
Ghostwriter: I got a right (write) for boy
That fucked AngryFan’s bitch, but still ain’t found Piperboy!
I’ll snipe a boy
Ask your daughter if she like the boy
If not, BOW! Pops get a chopper through the window like Biker Boyz
You dick-sucker!
Oh, you ain’t heard I’m a fif’-tucker?
Well, find out if this shit real: it’s a Mythbuster!
It’s a big thumper
I just dump and I switch guns up
Bitch, I done ran through 20 mills like Chris Tucker
Big brother
I don’t take no shit, but I’m still dumpin’
You ain’t seen a cracker wit’ a shot this nice since Chris Mullin!
Riggz bodied you, Gen’ bodied you
I blame it on Norbes, he hid ya losses
Oh, we ain’t like you in them Air Force Ones - they had the Forces
Bigga .9, I got it in May, I grip a Taurus
Blikky wit’ the stiffy set in, like rigor mortis
It’s war, bitch!
Four-fif’ will get ya door hit
Wit’ so many bucks, you’ll fuck around and make the Forbes list
All that nonsense, I don’t know what they speakin’ ‘bout
Ever since we let Christians in battle rap, everybody a preacher now
‘Til the heater BOW!, and blood start leakin’ out
I remember they told me Twork left the group
Wow - BOW! - guess I’m the leader now!
Bitch, we been advised
I get the vibe, MAC-10 will rise
And everybody blackin’ on Ave like it’s gentrified
Pick a side!
You try that tough guy shit? I’m all tough
Lil’ blade, come ‘cross Ave: it’s a shortcut!
The .4 bust
Ain’t nobody fuckin’ ya boy up
I’m the man, and I put a band on it like a tour bus
He big mad
But a finger (Butterfinger) turn to fif’ Ave (5th Ave)
Gun point, Hunts Point: you a bitch, Ave!
I can hold my own
Rolling Stone: I keep a big mag’
Clip blast, and it’s good for 30, like a temp tag
Ave don’t wanna fight! He wanna talk about it
Where I’m from, if it’s beef, you don’t walk about it
I catch Ave on the ave, put some chalk around him
Go to his church, find his hearse, pull his coffin out it
Yeah, I’m all about it
Fuck all the doubtin’ shit - I’m upper-echelon
Weapon drawn
If I open a Cracker Barrel on Ave, it ain’t a restaurant!
Bitch, you fake as fuck!
Can’t front like you gangsta to us
For that shit you done to Ryda, you a snake in the brush
Bangers’ll bust, the doc gon’ have to staple him up
I’ll have blood runnin’ down Ave, like it’s late for the bus
Ya man wanna play? I’ll shoot the crowd up: Mandalay Bay
Pick a fight
A stick of dynamite’ll damage a Cave
Think I’mma believe he got all these hammers to spray?
Wit’ all this V.A. beef, and he never put his hands on a K
But wanna fight the boy
Why? ‘Cause I’m white? Yeah, right
Ghostwriter: I got a right (write) for boy
That fucked AngryFan’s bitch, but still ain’t found Piperboy!
I’ll snipe a boy
Ask your daughter if she like the boy
If not, BOW! Pops get a chopper through the window like Biker Boyz
You dick-sucker!
Oh, you ain’t heard I’m a fif’-tucker?
Well, find out if this shit real: it’s a Mythbuster!
It’s a big thumper
I just dump and I switch guns up
Bitch, I done ran through 20 mills like Chris Tucker
Big brother
I don’t take no shit, but I’m still dumpin’
You ain’t seen a cracker wit’ a shot this nice since Chris Mullin!
Riggz bodied you, Gen’ bodied you
I blame it on Norbes, he hid ya losses
Oh, we ain’t like you in them Air Force Ones - they had the Forces
Bigga .9, I got it in May, I grip a Taurus
Blikky wit’ the stiffy set in, like rigor mortis
It’s war, bitch!
Four-fif’ will get ya door hit
Wit’ so many bucks, you’ll fuck around and make the Forbes list
All that nonsense, I don’t know what they speakin’ ‘bout
Ever since we let Christians in battle rap, everybody a preacher now
‘Til the heater BOW!, and blood start leakin’ out
I remember they told me Twork left the group
Wow - BOW! - guess I’m the leader now!
Bitch, we been advised
I get the vibe, MAC-10 will rise
And everybody blackin’ on Ave like it’s gentrified
Pick a side!
You try that tough guy shit? I’m all tough
Lil’ blade, come ‘cross Ave: it’s a shortcut!
The .4 bust
Ain’t nobody fuckin’ ya boy up
I’m the man, and I put a band on it like a tour bus
He big mad
But a finger (Butterfinger) turn to fif’ Ave (5th Ave)
Gun point, Hunts Point: you a bitch, Ave!
I can hold my own
Rolling Stone: I keep a big mag’
Clip blast, and it’s good for 30, like a temp tag
Ave don’t wanna fight! He wanna talk about it
Where I’m from, if it’s beef, you don’t walk about it
I catch Ave on the ave, put some chalk around him
Go to his church, find his hearse, pull his coffin out it
Yeah, I’m all about it
Fuck all the doubtin’ shit - I’m upper-echelon
Weapon drawn
If I open a Cracker Barrel on Ave, it ain’t a restaurant!
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