Arsonal vs. Hollow Da Don [Lyrics]


[Round 1: Hollow Da Don]

This lightweight, believe in me
I know this nigga the snitch type, he put that wire on easily
He one of them niggas that swear he never ratted
Till he add up them years and now him and the captain
Start doing a little chattin’
You feel me? But when a nigga run up on you with that ratchet
That shit like that Men In Black gadget, when I flash it
He forget everything that happened
I swear to god, this nigga claiming a Grape Street Crip
But you from Jersey, that’s the wrong street
That’s like me saying I’m a Blood from Wall Street
And a Hoover from Long Beach
That niggas was like, “where Long Beach?” I was like, “LA”
He was like “Where Oakland?” I’m like “The Bay”
He like, “who from there?” I said, “Mac Dre”
He was like, “I think I got it, okay…”
This nigga easy money, I’ma eat dude
Ya OG’s should’ve told you “Chill cuz, just be cool”
You feel me? I got GD’s in the Chi Town that’ll tell you I’m a G fool!
They be like “Yeah, my kinfolk knew the nigga
And I grew up with him since preschool”
I’m on my Jada shit, swell up ya lips like seafood
Or Styles shit, get on my other shit
Or maybe Sheek, I’m hot, I start writing with an oven mitt
This nigga ain’t want it, I start buggin bitch!
Arsonal ain’t got enough arsenal so fuck Da Rebel
Hit ‘em like Bad Boy chill, don’t touch the bezel

[Round 1: Arsonal]

You like sizzy I understand and you like pills
You spend all your money on drugs but can’t afford ya light bill
Cuz you pay niggas lots of attention and ice grill
You better off buying an 8 dollar bottle of Nyquil
You the Hollow man, the Grindtime rapper
Tell all ya cheerleaders I’m a palm palm snatcher
I’ll forearm slap ya, put you in a head lock
Fuck ya baby mother Flinstone style, make the bed rock
Infared freckle ya face, lil red dots
Yearbook picture this nigga, give him a headshot
“BOW!” to the back of the cranium til ya head pop
Once you hit the ground, a Hulkamania leg drop
I really think money talks, you just seen the movie
This unfair, it’s like Jada versus Jinx The Juve
You dope head, you line sniffer, reefer groupie
Type a nigga who can’t fuck unless you eat the coochie
He salute me every time I walk by
Ya mother spot me everywhere I go, she got a hawk eye
She put you out at 10 so she could live with a bald guy
By the name of Assalamualaikum, no pork rinds

[Round 2: Hollow Da Don]

This nigga said what? Crush me like Pork, huh?
I’ma crush ya ass like Pork rinds
This nigga talking mad shit about clappin’ but he played college
So while we was all goons you was studying in the dorm room
Nigga when you was walking thru the hallway like, “Wow”
We was walking thru the hallway for chow
Nigga we was meeting niggas from other states
You was meeting niggas from other states
But my niggas would never see they fuckin date
Ayo, this nigga talking mad shit, sparkin but you drink Malibu
And ya city swag is Malibu
This nigga talking bout his pops drink E&J
His mom a 40 year old stripper named Alize
Nigga I went to the crib
Sold his aunt some Haze and even sold his grandma Yay
Nigga I was drunk all day
The swag is sick, you talking all bad and shit
I get skitzo and stab you on some Aladdin shit
Nigga have ya dreads drag and shit
This nigga talking bout he poppin off, you talk about poppin all
This nigga ain’t poppin shit, nigga this a opera song
This shit is over nigga
You talking bout boulders, you think you Hova nigga?

[Round 2: Arsonal]

Why you talk like you chop off grams and you the pop off man?
Nigga, you work at the hotdog stand
You sell shish kabobs and corn on the cob
Chicken noodle soup with the soda on the side
You and ya Aunt Jackie, that bitch with the kinky braids
I seen y’all both on the corner last night doin the stanky leg
Now that’s a damn shame, you ain’t got no damn game
That porno bitch Pinky wouldn’t even give you the damn brain
If you pondering like I’m pondering and me and yo bitch was fondling
Last week I saw ya rap sheet, you had one charge, WANDERING!
Ya not a fucking thug, you don’t sell drugs
You don’t do shit but get swept under the rug
Now I’ma disrespect everything about you
You fake, plus phony, and I doubt you
I’ma reroute you, kill this nigga, I’ma show him how to
Constipated niggas get the shit beat out you
You lil fag, Queens nigga with no swag
Don’t laugh, after this over you get ya toe tagged
Throat slashed, look in my eyes, I’m wearing no mask
Ya body found in the sea like you died in a boat crash
Now don’t talk like you bust yo gat
Or bark like you tough at rap
That’ll get ya Auntie and ya Mother slapped

[Round 3: Hollow Da Don]

Yo I can’t let this bread go, that’s why this nigga probably mad
But you ain’t gon beat me, you wanna lose I’ll tell you nice, politely ask!
You gon need Horse Jockey class, be Rocky fast with a box that’s stash’s
Hockey masks and soccer pads that nobody has
You gon need Michael Jordan’s ball, Jeff Gordon’s car
Ken Norton’s jaw, and some very important bars
Nigga you gon have to run a mile or 2 with 50 pound weights tied to you
Then come back doing Street Fighter moves I never seen Guile or Ryu do
Nigga it better be a Hydouken and a Sonic Boom
Nigga I’m coming for that top dollar, what I jots hotter
I’m fly nigga, I want a Rottweiler with a diamond rock collar
Who bleaches his head Scott pollard I’m not modest
Everything matching man and the outfit funky fresh like Dapper Dan
Piff got Jamaica Ave smellin like Amsterdam
Blunt in my mouth, bone in my ear like an African
Cuz when the weed gone the Newport right after man
I’m Hustle Man from Martin, it’s in the jacket, bam!
No watches or ratchets can
I’m Tracy Morgan if he was Pakistan

[Round 3: Arsonal]

You got 106 & Park on your resume, so what? Hold up…
I know you ain’t think that’ll make you blow up
You still broke and you back in Queens
I’ll slap ya Queen and help you get stomped by the Latin Kings
When you was young, you had a full scale Taxi dream
And now you 24 and you still sell fax machines
You a retail nigga, just a cashier
You’re mad queer, your middle name is Cashmere
Hollow Da Don, you look like a Jeremy
You on drugs and you do need therapy
I ain’t finished, don’t hurry me
Fight Klub champion, under this pool table’s where they’ll bury me
If you take me light and really don’t make me fight
I’ma make them bitch niggas get you! 80 dykes!
I had brawls, nigga crazy fights
You a box of baby wipes trying to disinfect a rabbie bite
I’m a sex symbol, something that the ladies like
You a left nipple, something that a baby bite

[Overtime: Arsonal]

Before I end ya career I want you to listen hard
Get ya squad, have a meeting, tell em
“Y’all should stop rapping, let’s go and get a job”
Cuz this new Queens shit won’t go global
Prodigy don’t like you nigga, Havoc don’t know you!
Your reputation don’t exist, you so local
I’m a tie this mailman to a fence and go postal
Nigga I do what I’m ‘pose to
When you was locked down, niggas had you drag they balls like Goku
No time for the small talk, we all spark
My homies smell blood, we fire soon as the dogs bark
Ya life’s worth less than car parts
How y’all smart? You copped that whole outfit from Wal-Mart
My gun holla, it’ll make son holla
I’ll send yo ass back to Queens with one dollar
I’ll beat yo wife up, spit on ya son father
When I hit I shoot I hit like the two guard at (?)
I headbutt you til yo skull crack
My lead touch you, red rush thru the crevasses of yo ball cap
This nigga lying on his ball sack
He probably fucked 4 bitches in his life…. And they all fat!
My goons with me and we all strapped
Now how the fuck you gon smoke me? You don’t even catch contact
How you signed? Where yo contract?
I aim let the banger leave this pussy in danger, he’s a Wombat
You rap, right? Where ya songs at?
I come and take a piss on ya porch come and shit where ya lawn at
Yo chain’s fake nigga, pawn that
Ya girl a jump, since you here there’s probably 8 niggas on that
She bisexual, she ate bitches, all that
Banana clip make you ape niggas fall back
Now you praying to god, I thought you was Atheist?
Damn, I’m killin this nigga, I hope they taping this
All off the top, I can’t believe that you came for this
You homo thug catching slow mo’ slugs, you in The Matrix
You a good life nigga, you not a hood life nigga
You from West Bubbafuck, you don’t know what the hood like nigga
So why you talk like a mobster? You walk like a shotta
You went to school for medicine tried to become a doctor
That don’t coincide, I gave yo hoe a ride
And when I dropped her off she was like
“Ars, don’t you wanna go inside?”
You know me, I’m thinkin with my dick head
My dick said, “hmmm…” and decided to do what ya bitch says
So we bust open ya front door and we “YOOOOUU” to the big bead
She said, “let me spit my gum out first and dispose of my Big Red”
Being the person that I am, I let her swallow my dick
I beat her pussy up, then went full throttle and shit
She cherish my semen, she wanted to bottle my shit
I told her leave it on his pillow, he’ll acknowledge my shit
I hate niggas who live just to call niggas out, what’s all this about?
This is all from the scalp, check me out, ACG’s on, Tru jeans on
While yo man got that fake ass ring on
Come to my city, you’ll see we got them thangs drawn
We’ll notice that ya blings pawned, niggas had them things gone
Unanimously 3’s drawn, next Sunday’s first Sunday
My real name is Darell, so you Lee John
You bout as slow as a snail, how you leech on?
Another Butterfly trying to be strong
And ya bitch jumping like a frog, so I leaped on
Mick, why you put a dog against King Kong?!
Well King Cobra cuz I do spit venom nigga
Jeans Tru Religion, you a Vokal denim nigga
Go to the store before I chip ‘em nigga
Nobody likes you, you bait on a hook while I’m fishing nigga

[Overtime: Hollow Da Don]

This nigga say I fuck bitches and they all fat!
Nah nigga I fucked yo bitch, and she called back
Same day nigga this game day, I’m ready for the game play
Nigga my vision is blinded, style vivid and timeless
A lyrical giant that’s defiant and criminal minded
So without given the guidance, my flow and god did an alliance
So my rhyming sound like they got spirits behind em
Horror’s my image, get the 4 and diminish
And ya shots won’t count like when you score in the scrimmage
I can’t sweat chow, put ya jaw in ya spinach
Jail house niggas eat ya food til all of it’s finished
And you’ll get it for not paying ya debt, niggas will poke a hole in you
Bloomberg bitch ass got a nigga smoking rollies
But ain’t a thing stressing me, my life’s a chessboard
I’m the king so they protecting me and my Queen next to me
And the castle’s on the corner, play by the rules you know it
If you touch that piece you gotta move
And nigga I don’t care if you think I’m good or not
If you think I’m hood or not
The first glock was a .25, .38 and a rubber glock
My brother had the ‘K with the 50, not the 100 shots
But when he let that bitch off it still cleared the fuckin block
Nigga my rap sheet compared to yours is butterscotch
You went to jail and act tough, I hit the tear with my fuckin bop
Nigga I’m a cool nigga and I got it worse for you
This nigga talking bout it’s gon get personal
Remember no guns in nights for murking you
I’ma flip and make it worse for you
I’ll hire a bird bitch to poke holes in ya condom
Fuck you and leave you with a burnt dick
Kidnap you like the Cat with Earnest
And force you to take an AIDS test just to confirm it
You better squeeze first or I’ll send him to the North Pole
Dressed in a South Pole T-Shirt
Or dress ya ass in Alaska garment and send him to South Africa in August
I’ll pollute ya mind, make you think suicide
Lock you in a room with some pills and a .45
All that and throw to some killer bees in a honey suit
Or throw his ass to the sharks in a bloody suit
A throw his ass in a sand with some heavy boots
I’m like P just pay me my money dude

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Follow @HollowDaDonLOM @ArsonalDaRebel
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