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Lyrics: URLtv – Tay Roc vs. Nu Jerzey Twork

Tay Roc vs. Nu Jerzey Twork Lyrics

URLtv
URLtv

Tay Roc vs. Nu Jerzey Twork Lyrics

By URLtv

[Round 1: Nu Jerzey Twork]
I SHOOK HIS PRIDE!
Like, “Twork comin’. Nigga look alive.”
He died with his eyes wide open, the nigga look alive
We finally got this locked bitches
Took a hot minute
Hot pistols
You keep showin’ up to battles wearin’ all these fuckin’ costumes, nigga you got issues
Y’all won’t be seein’ no more Michael Jackson jackets
So y’all just ‘Remember The Time’ you had ‘Roc(k) With You’
Glock pistol, cock and spray
But first I wanna give Roc his praise
First nigga with this high level energy
First nigga with gun lines back to back, there’s a lot of things we got from Tay
Glock’ll spray
I’ma put the Pioneer in the trunk, y’all gon’ hear from a block away
Stop it Tay, you just a bitch with guns
Disrespectin’ the hustle, and you disrespected Hustle
Can’t go back to New York for that shit that you done
The apes gon’ chase you right up out Cave like Temple Run
This who you deal with Smack?
A nigga beefin’ wit’ a bitch from Gorilla Stone
Ain’t do shit to the niggas that took his chain, how real is that?
You so worried about the Gorillas, you need to go get yo’ silver back (Silverback)
Steel will clap!
You dyin’ on the set, niggas took your jewels off in ya home town
What was all this “slidin’ with the TEC”?
Couldn’t be me, cause nigga I’ma die for my respect
Let’s take it back, Double Impact
NWX, it was one, “suck my dick” and shit got violent for the vet
So that’s the second time niggas had to take Shine from ’round ya neck
I get to wildin’ with this TEC
Burn him and blaze him
Surf like, “On Neighborhood Crip. You touch him and I’m knockin’ you out.”
Nigga this .30 will bang him
And at his funeral, ain’t nothin’ but sermons and prayers
He can’t call Surf to come save him
This a pastor preachin’ and this time you can’t turn to ya neighbor
This .30 gon’ bang him
Surf get to talkin’ this Rolling 60 shit, I’ma buck my pound
Give a 60 nine (69), I’ma hold this sucka upside down
Live rounds goin’ over his head
I live 28 minutes from Edgewood, you know what it is
Don’t push me, I’m this close to the edge
You was bold on the web, do all that talkin’ in my face
I’ma slide down errrrr, to that apartment with an .8
I see ya bitch, fo-fo I’m spark it in her face
I told her to beware of the dog, and then I put Caution on the gate
I’ma slide off, spin back, now there’s Caution on the tape
I’m so terrific
I went in the kitchen, seen Chef, now it’s broken dishes
Living room, bucks left on the couch, can’t even go and spend it
Outside, Henny packed up, like the prohibition
Pole I’m liftin’
Roc(k) landed in the neighbor yard, who gon’ go and get it?
I lift the pole on bitches
Cannon clip you
And lately I’ve been dealin’ with bad bitches that I can’t commit to
So I can’t just go out with a .9, I got standard issues
Speakin’ of standards
Aye Lady Caution, let’s stop this cappin’
I heard you went from John John, Tsu Surf to- oh you got a top ten rappers?
Heard she went from Gates Of The Garden to URL, wonder how she got them battles
Don’t you know back in the day whores got stoned to death?
Ain’t no wonder why Roc(k) went at you
You’se a little body bitch
Popsicle body bitch
Sick, need to be in the hospital body bitch
McGriddle body bitch
You’se a brittle body bitch
The instrument they use to play the fiddle body bitch
I’ma keep it goin’
You’se a Henny bottle bitch
Not even a full size, you’se a mini bottle bitch
You got Minnie’s body bitch
You ain’t anybody bitch
Before yo’ ass got with Roc you was anybody bitch
That sound familiar
What happened to ya baby moms?
Y’all remember ya baby moms? She was bad as shit
That unfulfillin’
Now she’s fuckin’ with an NFL nigga, I know it fuckin’ kills him
Hoe football playin’ ’round yo’ fuckin’ children like Russel Wilson
I know it’s tough to deal with
Nigga ran off with ya hoe (whole) kid like Rumpelstiltskin
I up the pistol
Raise it on him, blaze it on him
If I knock Dracula costume off he stays in coffin, even the red eyes take off, like a late departure
No more keeping in contact, it’s a restraining order
I’m finna bang it on him
I just ignore ya crew
So many niggas done left the Cave, I can’t even go to war witchu
Ever since Brizz Rawsteen left, you need more recruits
Aye Brizz, if it wasn’t for Roc, you wouldn’t even be here, he literally opened up doors for you
I’m Strapped In!
I’ll clap you in a coma
Madness
I could snap at any moment
According to the culture, y’all had it surely known
But I was there, right by the stage, y’all got the story wrong
Top threw a bottle, Brizz threw a bottle
No Tax threw a bottle, they goin’ on and on
Brizz ran straight to the back, he got his Maury on
Roc standin’ there actin’ like he don’t know what’s goin’ on
Top drop, Chess (chest) popped out like Omarion
Sorry y’all!
Rest in peace, Zaid, but Brizz homie the only one that was doin’ Twork moves
I would’ve went to jail, ended up in an orange shirt too
Hurt who?
Jersey

[Round 1: Tay Roc]
You let me down in that tournament nigga
What’s up with that?
100K on the line, Drake added 50, damn near doubled that
And you fumbled that?
Boy if you come with three rounds tonight you lettin’ me know I’m more important than them 100 racks
You better come to rap nigga
Not just for Drake or for uncle Smack
If you choke, I’ma delete ya number outta my fuckin’ jack
I’ma up the strap, drum attached
Somethin’ clap
Who’s that offensive player for the Jets? Um, new jersey (Nu Jerzey) running back
I gotta check him, without a question
I feel like Will Smith, I gotta put my dawg (dog) down to show y’all I Am Legend
Sinners gotta Heaven
Splish Splash, a Hollow wet him
Fire a weapon, let it fly through the buildin’; 9/11
Nigga said he would kill Tay Roc, that’s how they all sound
Tonight is not the night for you to be droppin’ the ball now
Against me is ya last chance nigga, don’t let us all down
You the reason niggas like me gotta battle Swamp now
Shotgun, sawed down
This ain’t a game, my passenger Burke put bucks (Bucs) on Twork
Make it rain, we ain’t the same
I raise and aim, bang the thang
Leave you sleep with ya eyes open in major pain (Major Payne)
This nigga thought he could out bar me?
How sorry
I find out where you live, pull up, pull out calmly
This shit’ll take ya arm, leg and scalp partially
Leave Twork (twerk) all over the crib, it’s a House Party
I can make every single bar gold, my touch is Midas like
My hands hurt, cause whatever this author write is (arthritis) tight
This guy get hype and he tryin’ to fight
The clip is a half moon and it’s lit for you, the entire night
I’m the violent type and more outspoken
.40 cal’ totin’
You will get shot in ya head, ya scalp smokin’
Like MGM films before the movie come on he’ll hear a loud roar
Then by lyin’ (lion) with his mouth open
Makin’ movies is all that I care about
Two choppers, two tri-pods this picture a pair’ll mount (Paramount)
I’ll air him out, the steel lift and peel shit
I’ll have an arsenal (Arsonal) and Shotgun Surf-ing through Jersey (Jerzey)
It’ll get Real sick (Sikh), real shit
End ya life when this fifth bang
Inf’ beam
Red Light, Green Light, Squid Game, the clip hang
I ain’t in a Crip gang
But I’ll send niggas to his neighborhood that’s Nutty and Insane
And they don’t have patience
They gon’ dump every last case in
Have the murder scene all sheets and (Sheiks in) Shells; gas stations
Pistol whip him, the end of the Mag’ breakin’
The vision of Twork (twerk) blurred out, like we censoring ass shakin’
Strap blazin’
Cook this cat like I’m half Asian
We gon’ wreck if you don’t stay in ya lane like drag racin’
A burner is gettin’ lifted
Murder a nigga wit’ it
Boy I’ll turn you to one of them little circular picture pendants
Boy, you fire, when you don’t choke, and deliver all rage
When you choke you let down the nigga that get us all paid
You battled Loso, I was front row
Yeah
Givin’ him all praise
I had to give courage to Twork (twerk) like pills do for strippers on stage
Clips is gon’ blaze, you’ll turn up dead
I’ll burn the lead
You my brother
I can’t watch you die
So I turn my head
Raisin’ cans
{gun cocks} Gauges blam
His body flip in the air
And then Twork (twerk) on the ground, it’s a Jamaican dance
Aye, I’m at ya location, FN in the shorts
Amazon Prime, I knocked then left him on the porch
Stretched him with the torch
Every round out the gun
A ton’ll (tunnel) go through New Jersey (Nu Jerzey), I can connect him to New York
I’ll pull up in a Porsche
Skkkkkrt
Hop out of an old Carrera
Bullets hit the couch, TV, I’m even smokin’ (smoke and) mirrors
If ya bitch live, it’s cause I chose to spare her
I have that whole place that Twork in (twerking) dead like strip clubs in the COVID era
I’m talkin’ ’bout hurt this man family, drown Twork
Jersey (Jerzey) underwater; Hurricane Sandy
I’ma end up murkin’ this bastard, have it lit at ya wake
Ya funeral ratchet, Twork in a casket
Don’t fuck up my classic
This shit here can even ya stock
I hate the fact that you the one I gotta treat as an op’
Believe it or not these heaters will pop
I don’t know this Gun Title, but even with a vest ya chest (Chess) won’t be easy to (Eazy The) Block, nigga
Light bars
Gang shit

[Round 2: Nu Jerzey Twork]
When will all this treason stop?
You don’t do nothin’ but gun bar after gun bar
No substance, angles, schemes or plots
If this what y’all callin’ the face, I don’t even wanna compete for slots
Raisin’ Kanan, why beef over territory, I don’t see nothin’ you unique in Roc(k)
He needs to stop it
This biggest mouth with the weakest body
Little dog, hidin’ behind all that bark like Geechi Gotti
It’s transparent, speakin’ of trans…
Y’all gave me the dude with the allegations?
Who the fuck is this man scaring?
Truthfully I thought this nigga been gay (Bengay), I put that on my grandparents
You get clowned on stage, but that shit you do in the comfort of ya own home, just keep it from around this way
I ain’t come up here to talk about Roc he/she (Rikishi), that’s somethin’ he gotta sit down and face
I’ma surround his place
Y’all think he poppin’ but he not
If he lose tonight, nothing from his stock is gonna drop
If I lose tonight, ain’t none of my problems gonna stop
It’s back to slidin’ on the ops
Cleanin’ the McDonalds with a mop
I’ll be somewhere delivering Krusty Krab Pizza, I got a lot ridin’ on this Roc(k)
I’ma slide down his block, take a right, cut the blinkers off
Pull up to they hang out spot, I’ma creep in dark
He outside with the whole Cave Gang, oh he think he smart
I already saw Roc(k) group, that’s why the Lincoln (Linkin) Park
That’s old wisdom
He don’t know he gettin’ a humble abode visit
Soon as he pull up to the crib, I’m outside his home, sit
I’ma stop Roc(k) right before he go in, that’s goal tendin’
Like, “Hoe nigga. This pistol mean violence.”
Soon as he look for his strap I knock the vision clean out him
Caution in the back of him yellin’
Aye Dracula tell her, if this bitch just keep wildin’
I’ma put a Mac up to the bat, that’s Mr. 3000
I’m wildin’
I slide daily, insane asylum tryin’ to see if my mind’s stable
Cause they found him face down in the hole, look like a massage table
You not gangsta, you not concealin’
What ops you killin’?
They use Roc(k) to hold the door open like a project buildin’
You all kinds of filthy
Fair warning, this nigga took a pic’, legs cocked wide open
Stickin’ out his tongue, I said, “What is this man doin’?”
I don’t even wanna talk about that shit, I was scared for him
Let’s just jump from that line with his tongue out like Air Jordan
Can’ on him
I’m Strapped In!!
I’ll clap you in a coma
Madness
I could snap at any moment
I can’t fall for these traps
That nigga Murda Mook told you to suck his dick
You said it was lit, I thought he mean that
You see Mook ain’t do a motherfuckin’ thing
That nigga Mook would’ve told me to suck his d- ooow, I couldn’t [?] seein’ that
It would’ve went from “suck my dick” to him doin’ a Party Arty rematch
I don’t honor these cats
I don’t just talk, I really walk the shit I’m about
The Cave known for pretendin’, that’s why y’all had to kick Vada out
I keep hearin’ Biggums fat ass screamin’, “Get that nigga Roc!”
The homies pullin’ ’bout six Llamas out
If we can’t get Roc address (a dress) we goin’ straight to Big Momma’s House
Llama’s out, your baby girl won’t last after these
I’ll put ya kid on the front page, give her Mad magazines
I’ma clap at ya teen, I keep a biscuit
Two Glocks, these ain’t twins, but these is civil
One bitch with no body swingin’ for the Title like Venus Williams
But the other bitch got Guns and Cake like Serena Williams
I’ma squeeze relentless, grip the pound
{gun clicks} Did him foul
Baow, baow
Hole so big you can see into Tay, I’m finna sit him down
WHHHAT?!
I bang nigga
Piru Blood gang member
Thang lift up
I really bang though
I’m a bastard and khaki Dickies was gang code
My mom a pastor, I went to Catholic school in the same clothes
I use to rob the white kids for they shoes, like, “Change those.”
Ran them (random) bitches right outta they Vans like Bang Bros
Thang blow…
Jersey
[Round 2: Tay Roc]
I told my girl, I’m ’bout to hit the club and find this bitch I wanna see
Usually she would trip, but this specific time she didn’t fuss with me
She trusted me
Cause I got her gun wit’ me
And she know I’ma be starin’ at her texts (TECs) while this bitch Twork (twerk) in front of me
Don’t fuck wit’ me
{gun cocks}
This a bull pup wit’ me and this baby stay wit’ me, I got full custody
You battled Geechi and let him take ya place, disgustingly
Now he’s the face and you are the L (URL) of the company
It’s up wit’ me
Fuckers are Strapped In!
It’s straps ’round
Like a mental patient in padded rooms, we strapped down
We strapped now
My straps? Bizarre, it don’t stick out
But still up to bust like a strapless bra
If we scrap or brawl I’ma beat homie ass
It’s gon’ be fast
Pistol whip, strap to the face, Mick Foley mask
Bro get stabbed, ’til it’s stuck or broke in half
And you can see it showin’ through Jersey (Jerzey) like shoulder pads
If I’d have read your tweets and you don’t said, “it’s beef”
You would’ve been like that one Jersey nigga vs. Danny, spittin’ out hella teeth
Shit ain’t never sweet
Blade on me, turn you to shredded meat
He ain’t see the pick in the pocket, I’m a petty thief
Rest in peace
Buck shots go in the shotty
I let this gauge pierce a big hole in ya body
Or drive-by holdin’ the Tommy
Bllllllt
Get ya block shot wit’ the stick like I’m a goalie for hockey
Everybody got guns, you must not comprehend barely
You’se a fat nigga with a strap cause you been scary
I’m a skinny nigga without a strap, I would’ve been buried
Ace Amin is proof that niggas that even go to the gym, carry
You know Jim Carey, that movie where, he had on that yellow tux
I can have my dawg (dog) put a Mask on fuck shit up
You’ll get left with a head gash, dead ass
He went missin’, cops knew something was wrong when all they seen was a red flag
Actual slaughter
I will drive-by, clap up ya corner
This cat is a goner
I’ll have ya blood splatterin’ on ya
If I use this Judge, I’ma have to ask for a lawyer
I blew (blue) caps to the core like natural water, I have to destroy ya
Sic the savages on ya
Hit his organ, eyes (organize) will be fucked up like he ain’t have it in order
I’m at his door, packages for ya
I caught Twork (twerk) in the room, I’m like a disappointed dad in the room with his daughter
We at his funeral, in the back, standin’ in a straight line
His moms readin’ that obituary and she can’t stay calm
She like, “My baby Twork, AKA Raivon
Got killed. Wearin’ his hood like Trayvon.”
I will bang mine
Come from this waistline, put you all away
Y’all ain’t know his name was “Raivon”?
We gon’ call him “Ray”
You’ll get the bat with the spikes in ya skull today
Martin and Eddie in Life somethin’ get clawed in (Claude and) Ray
Bombs away
You’ll get shot with my thumper
Sting Ray through the chest, Crocodile Hunter
“Roc’s a wild fucker”, dude’s stay trippin’
I’ll have you eyein’ a barrel, in high definition, it blew (Blu) Ray vision
You joined K-Shine, then left him the next day?
I seen through that shit when you joined NW(X)-Ray
This ya death day, I’ll do him mad cruddy
Now answer this question
If you so Strapped In, then how you crash, dummy?
That’s mad funny, you gon’ get what you ask from me
What you on? E? I’ll put this. 40 on Five; gas money
Your whip crash, and you almost burned alive
Guess what movie you would’ve had a perfect role in? New Jersey Drive
I heard he died, then revived
It was gettin’ scary, they had to bring dawg (dog) back from the dead; Pet Cemetery
That car wreck, gave him another cut
And another cut
Cause his seatbelt wouldn’t work when he was tryin’ to buckle up
You fuckin’ nut, it’s lit for you
From here it ain’t gettin’ better
Wait, fuck the cops that shot up ya whip, cause we stick together
But the cops shot up ya whip and you ain’t do shit? I thought you was wit’ whatever
You almost got taken out by a 12, like Cinderella
On God shit nigga!
We all at the table on some mob shit
Suit up on him; job shit
Kim brother Rob shit
My nigga don’t talk, he smoke; Silent Bob shit
I Will, Smith the leader; Suicide Squad shit
No vegan, no tomato, I don’t squash shit
Outta nowhere you get popped up, surprise shit
Taught to just stick through the beef; kabob shit
Put in work, before I had a car, it was my mom’s shit
Bomb shit, nowhere to hide shit
I find shit and go through the door and flip the screen it’s a Sidekick
The .9 spit, this hammer ain’t my shit
Really the text (TEC’s) is in a different name like a side chick
The chopstick under the armpit clear a mosh pit
No TV, this Drake ain’t the one to Josh wit’
His soul wonder (Wanda) up to the cosmos; Fairly Odd shit
Playgrounds or not, we swing through and slide shit
When mine hit, everything inside rip, cause conflict
Tie you up, no bondage, this guy a hostage
Violent, pillow, over ya face, for silence
Feathers fly everywhere like I shot an ostrich
Ya side hit, I paralyze shit, make ya spine shift, ya mind split
Ya egg crack, we tryin’ omelets, I’m outta pocket
I will leave this guy unconscious
Hooked to machines and doctors doin’ diagnostics
No pipe wit’ him, then it’s the blade, the strike in him
I might kill him
He tryin’ to wrestle, but losin’ the fight in him
His life endin’
Paralyze him soon as the knife in him
Leave Twork (twerk) without a bottom half like white women
I’m triflin’
At your funeral? Smokin’ on the gas
They bury you, then I burn the roses on the grass
Don’t want my fingerprints on it
Cuz said, “Hold it with the flag.”
I’ll walk through Jerusalem like I’m Moses with the staff
You dead nigga!

[Round 3: Nu Jerzey Twork]
Let’s set this straight
Yes I called you the GOAT cause when you move you don’t hesitate
I’ve been here for the Dodge emblems
The Craftsmen jeans, how you got to Mook and then levitate
I don’t know a lot about antonyms and synonyms but I know how to shoot when the weapon straight
And I know a lot about homonyms so I can’t let you resume with this resume
You finna die Indeed
Aye Smack, if this ya brother, advise him please
Pine boxes don’t come from the finest trees
And since he rich, you get high quality
Redish brown wood; mahogany
Hand crafted in South America, you don’t wanna see a guy in these (Guyanese)
Fire please!
If I burn his house down, who gon’ be your face when ya man die Troy?
Pour gasoline ‘(Lean) Wit’ It, Roc(k) Wit’ It’ there goes your Franchise Boy!

{Twork jumps in the crowd}

Hand my toy
I’m finna clip this nigga up
You said, “DNanny” for “DNA in New York”
That shit was iffy bruh, listen up
I’ll show you how to split the states and cities up
Cause that ain’t go over or land though (Orlando) like you went to Disney bruh
I don’t wanna see you now or again (Oregon), I suggest the niggas wit’ you Duck
You go to police, it goes South da code of (Dakota) the streets take ya lips and zip ’em up
I went to his home in Baltimore, the nigga think he big and tough
When he see his daughter on the floor it’ll (Florida) switch his feelings up
On my waist is where the cans is (Kansas) and if I lift these pistols up
I shoot his baby boy crib, I won’t even miss his sippy (Mississippi) cup
I’m ’bout to clip this nigga up
Put ya boy up in a ditch
Bang bang, that’s the sound of ya shorty gettin’ hit
Bang bang, that’s the sound of the war we in the mix
He can’t buckle up, his seatbelt won’t work
Bang bang, that’s the sound of the .40 on my hip
And this a new car, so if you don’t buckle up you gon’ keep hearin’ that noise until it click
I get noisy with this bitch
100 round out the TEC I’m firin’
I’m ’bout to send you up to Heaven flyin’
You ’bout to find out how beautiful God is like Aphrodite
Hey Smack, if this ya gunner, you should’ve gave him better guidance
He should’ve never tried this
If he don’t die, he gon’ leave here in liver failure like hepatitis
If I have to find him, I’ma grab the coaster
I’m outside with the ratchet blowin’
Boom boom, I shoot the door until the latch is broken
Boom
“HEY ROC!”
He in the bed restin’, I flip the mattress over
Now he can sleep upside down just like a bat suppose to
I’ma clap the toaster
I’m holdin’ the fifth
I see Caution, I say, “Bitch you better not open ya lips.”
I’m pretty cautious, gloves on so they don’t notice the prints
Red Lobster, I even put the tape over the grip
Like, “Where the coke and the piff?”
If I clip you up, that wasn’t Roc, I really had rocks, I’m talkin’ zips and up
Methamphetamines, oxycodone, prescription drugs
Back in my heyday, I would’ve had Caution samplin’, pass yo’ bitch the blunt
Whole dip of stuff
Like, “This the stuff”
Let her test the boat out, make your missus Puff
I got yo’ bitch on cuff
She talk crazy, but she follow the plans though
Police pull us over, Big Bad Wolf, she gon’ swallow the grams whole
Can’ blow, get ya pals dumped on
Oh that’s a vest? Teflon? That’s just gon’ get me riled up more
Cause dome shots the only thing my pound bust for
Better hope that’s what your foreheads (four heads) made outta Roc(k) like Mount Rushmore
Dump on ’em, you might get killed
Say somethin’ I don’t like for real
You gon’ die for real
We goin’ outside for a single file (foul) line like a fire drill
I’m Strapped In!!
I’ll clap you in a coma
Madness
I could snap at any moment
Your life is over, you might not quite deserve it
But a kind soul won’t do you no good, once I light ya- this might get personal
Everybody duck cause this rifle burstin’
It might split Drake head wide open just like the Sprite commercial
When they ask who’s the king, I’m the rightful person
It’s time to steal the torch
I was outside with the fans, I’m the one they feel for sure
I went to the small league events, I gave ’em real support
I got PG’s in the buildin’, you try to seal the door
I even stopped them Crucible niggas from havin’ to deal with Norbes
I took off the hood, I jumped over Suge
I’m the most creative
I went on strike when you said you wasn’t earnin’ paper
When Smack had yo’ pockets tapped, who returned the favor?
I ‘Started From The Bottom’, no entourage, I was comin’ six deep
Still the most imitated, I’m the reason K-Shine went on a 20 win streak
I’m the streets
Pray to me, I’m the synagogue
When it come to battle rap, I’m exactly what it epitomize
Nigga I’m Smack gunner, it’s time to wear that shit with pride
Let’s turn Real Nigga Time into the Bigga .9
Baow Baow Baow!
Nigga died, I shot him in a jiffy
Hit his noggin with a .50
French blunderbuss, take an oval off his head like Monica Lewinsky
[?] you gon’ move out the burbs
I’m ’bout to take this one to the grave, you got my word
Drive-by, chopper out the GMC I’ll shoot out the burg
K clip, press down on a half moon
(Do not disturb!)
That was mean Twork
And now I got a body on a half moon like DreamWorks
You be talkin’ often
Nigga you soft as cotton
Wait ’til ya gang get around and be talkin’ often
I’ma wait ’til them niggas leave and spark it on you
Squid Games
By the time they come back Roc(k)’s in the bag, he done lost his marbles
Jersey!

[Round 3: Tay Roc]
I ain’t gon’ lie, this nigga’s my friend
How about I get my kids you get ya kids we hit the beach and we can get ’em to swim?
Nah, I’ma drive us all to a cliff and let the sinnin’ begin
I’ma let our Child’s Play but I’ma push my friend to the end
I really am him
You, were not the first to be copied, I’ve been cloned
I faced all the writers that been known
Y’all Champion Of The Year, yeah, y’all see how I did Jones
This nigga from the Cave knocked over more pens (pins) than Fred Flintstone
I have to be the master
Eazy, he the Captain of the trappers
As far as Chess? He actually will clap ya
Surf? I get to passin’ him a ladder
And have Tsunami hit Jerusalem, that’s a natural disaster
I’m uncontrollable
And I don’t do what I’m told to do
Unload on you
Then trash cans; disposable
Rifle, from the Civil War, put a hole in you
Like Back II The Future, I will bring something old to Nu (new)
Cannon wit’ me, blam the semi, ’til this can’ is empty
With ya life, you’re gamblin’ Jerzey (gamble in Jersey); Atlantic City
This man get busy
Mini chopper mounted
That mean the Drac’ posted on the wall like a fan of Drizzy
Stop playin’ wit’ me
I don’t follow by the rules, I gotta lot of goons
Them niggas ain’t got a lot to lose
I got a lot of tools
This a chopper not an Uz’
This’ll knock Nu (New) Balance off, see him flyin’ out his shoes
Ratchet dirty
Soon as he turn around, clap the .30
NBA protest, that’s a piece (peace) to the back of Jerzey (jersey)
I’m a hunter, preserve the kill if the catch is worthy
Hang his head up on the wall; taxidermy
Who believe in him?
If the ambulance comin’, bitch you needin’ ’em
They know not to gas me up, I use premium
Chop off a limb, mail it to ya mom
I get unique wit’ ’em
Foot Locker, I send her home a box with Nu (new) feet in ’em
The can’ erupt, blam shit up
It’s like bowlin’ after we done rollin’, there won’t be much left standin’ up
I don’t care if this TEC jam or what
Stab his side, get to ribin’ (ribbon) on Jerzey (jersey) it’s Breast Cancer Month
Poof
Magically, appears a Nina
They hear this steamer
It’ll go from this shit bein’ packed to a clear arena
Jakk better not try to be no hero either
I’ma bomb through him then drop Nu clear (nuclear); Hiroshima
Kill his leader, hollow tips what this clip contain
Turn him to a memory inside of a picture frame
Up close or long distance aim
Don’t matter, arms on Jerzey (jersey), NBA Christmas game
I lift and bang
Your vocal cords will get shot
Your voice? Over, like them videos on Tik Tok
I don’t believe that ya clique pop
Bitch stop
All that tough talk, I ain’t buyin’ that Nu (new); thrift shop
Make ya strip hot
This shit drop whoever not in the family
Shreddin’ niggas; Edward Scissors, the chop is handy
We get the drop then we slide in the Camry
Huge shotty, I will get Nu (new) body; Dr. Miami
To these fans, you the wild Blood, the big bully
But to me, you just lil’ bruh, a kid to me
You heard right, I poke this knife in his left, turn right
Drive it straight up the middle of Jerzey (Jersey); turnpike
You’se a termite
I earned my position, you will get murked if I’m trippin’
I will let every round burst from my Smith &
You fuck around and be a hurt opposition
Left there, shakin’, with a wet t-shirt
Who said Twork (twerk) competition?
You ain’t ask the culture
I’m mad that I had to smoke ya
Everybody, Jerzey (jersey) in a bag; practice over
I tried to tell him that this ain’t what he want from me
Battle rap is not a job to me this shit is fun to me
Fuck a scheme, angle, punch, it’s ’bout a gun to me
The gun is the only thing that get the job done for me

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