Yung Ill vs. Tsu Surf [Lyrics]

[Round 1: Tsu Surf]
First off Marlon, ya ain’t my mans nigga… how Goodz say it?
They got me battlin a skateboard Vans nigga
Tsunami Surf thru, the whole Lou will get wet up
If Ill really sick, them hollow tips like Vicks, open that chest up
You that long hair pretty boy brother of Chance type of Real
That bitch with a lot of pubic hair in her pants type of ill, EEEWWW!
Wouldn’t know what to do with a desert, you aint never got ya heater on
And Nelly song the only time you “Get ya Eagle On”
In the mirror, boy shorts and a beater on
Lip gloss poppin, stanky leggin to a Trina song
You make yo ass clap, I let make led blam
Boy I’ll put yo head in a box like webcam
His little sister in the Chevy, just face when she neck me
No hands, in the hood we call her bluetooth Becky
Spit that comedian shit, tell me how you let ya ‘matic blow
But how you handle this 100 round chopper he couldnt handle a Calicoe?
We Mobb Deep, get our ride on, they get they hide on
Apple sweet, Ill wouldn’t touch a iPhone
Everybody ya homie and everybody ya brother
I body them bodies nobody will be cryin but ya mother
Dwayne Wade, 3 from my Heat, a drop 30
This Mac all black, no joke it ain’t Bernie
You a Ray J fan and a Aye Verb lover
Toughest nigga in Midwest is Aye Verb mother
Find out where he live, walkin, simply get to sparkin
Them assumed he was really ill
Cuz everybody in that bitch got the coffin/to coughin’
If you a boss then send ya team
And I’m a send back something to knock everything out of anything
Ya songs a never sell, ya image will never blow up
I trip and put Ill in a bag like throw up
No braces, make him bite that steel
They find him in the freezer, I’ll Icepack Ill
Like a truck I breaker breaker wit one nine, then **drum roll noise**
Sound like a drum line hit his front line…. Easy

[Round 1: Yung Ill]

I don’t know who endorsed you, got you feeling like you in now
See dick heads act hard when pussies let ‘em in the in-crowd
First it was Goodz, ICE, and Arsonal after Lux, Mook and Rex
Then Charlie Clips joined the army locking lips and bumping chests
It seems you don’t gotta do a lot around hurr to get respect
But have one or two battles and they gon label you a vet
Prime example; how Tsunami Surf this big ol’ threat?
When you had two battles in a basement!
I’ma put in my application to get dick rode next
See you a do-boy, a sideline second in command
To take orders and never spend a second in command
I collect and shuffle grams, I’m a boss
I get paid for my investments in advance
Metal detector, no weapon in my hands
Walkie Talkie, give directions to my clan
Stomach shot, 10-4 that gun go pop ya mid section and ya hands
For that butter I grab the toast and bang the Wesson til it jam
Surf gon get served this biscuit for his green eggs & ham
I fuck with Jersey, of course, they dig my Flava Flav
And I love New York, but you ain’t real brother
So you’ll never stand a Chance, man
I’ll have ya mother’s only son robbed
I clock in, you clock out it’s a done job
My gun prob will put you square underwater, Spongebob
So tell Squidward, that’s it, burst or chainsaw take a chunk of his legs
Hockey mask, Michael Myers, Halloween fill his pumpkin with lead
Shots pop at my target, then my niggas will hop scotch on the caucus
A car battery, cuz you don’t get buried you get jumped when you dead
He don’t get that tho, butter my popcorn and kickback slow
Give ‘em a break, I ain’t bring no candy bars for this Kit Kat hoe
Brought a fork and a steak knife for a full course meal
Shit Smack this a big snack, a knick knack, whoa
Ronald McDonald, let that Big Mac blow
Too many squares in ya circle
I’ll put ya whole circle in a square nigga, Tic Tac Toe
Whoa… it’s like a deck of cards when that drama start
Cuz you’ll get cut like SPADES for ya DIAMONDS coming out of the CLUB
You ain’t got no HEART
I’m a ACE, fuck a KING, this JACKass just a QUEEN, fiend
If frat was Jack Black he’ll take a hit on 17
The 9 blam, get a flesh wound
Cripple and let him lean, a blind man in a restroom
This some shit you never seen
That red beam will clear his team out shawty
That trigger spray, I don’t Kid and Play
BLOAH! Sound like I’m calling Martin Lawrence from House Party
And speaking of house party, no invitation, you gon see me
Ready to, “kick some fucking ass!” in that House Party, I’m Pee Wee


[Round 2: Tsu Surf]
Boy you’ll catch more shots than a Spalding
They might’ve found Nemo, but they’ll never find Marlon
Ever, never find Marlon, Hit him where he starvin…I got um
They only thing I believed in that last verse was “Yo”
Them rhymes bore me
Called up my St. Louis bitch like “What’s the story?”
She said “With who? Marlon Bell? He went to McClaude North
One of the sweetest schools in Missouri”
Not killer gorilla for realer Ill
Who cock back, dump it and hit um up with the steel, chill!
Everybody wild monkeys until that banana clip peel
And the bars make me yawn, ya punchlines is exhausting
I was feeling a little ill too
Well I guess I found somethin for the coffin/coughin
You a 18 wheeler lookin at a deer, aye boo-boo ya lookin at a bear
I will whoop this cushion, put him in a chair
Or Q-tip the little nigga and put in the air/ear
I tell Verb to his face, yo ya lil mans a mutt, but he know
Cuz he send him to the store for the Dutch
He get back and can’t hit the blunt
You’s a runner, for a runner, sleeping bag the whole Lou
I’ll turn that party to a slumber
Paul Wall this guy flashing his grill
And shoutout to Nasir Jones when I put this ‘matic to Ill
The chamber got one and the clips got 8 in it
Michael Myers jumper with the mask off of Jason
Lock pick his door *eerrnn!* stick my face in
The Terminator role, knock the baby out the playpen
Cuz I am not a rapper, I am a slaughterer
Find the bitch who birth these foreigners and slaughter her
They find Hitman Holla momma in Nevada & Marlon’s (Marlins) in Florida
I flew to the Lou, what happen to ya burner peeps and the murder heat?
White sand, clear water, this shit look like Myrtle Beach
If you ain’t got about 100 choppers, a shot from Blanca
Un Kasa binoculars, Muhammad Ali’s feet, the precision of a doctor Strength of a Ape, work ethic of a boxer
If ya mother ain’t Ms. Wallace or her name ain’t Asata
My thought on this battle, Hakuna Matata (No worries)
They probably think they Dipset when they reppin’
Tech (texts) send a message
Boy will be ballin by himself like Sheppard
Cuz I let that gun blow, you hear that?
You about to have some company next show
Automatic sound clip when the mussel burst
With a shot like Ray, when he feeling like Shuttlesworth

[Round 2: Yung Ill]

Westside St. Louis, my old hood full of Bloods
Surf visit rocking all that blue Smurf stuff
You even smirk you get merked, what? Y’all harmless, we hurt stuff
So trade that (?) and Magnum for a bible and church bus
That 9 bake, prom date, you first tux, get hearsed up
A 40 cal, a 40 ounce, a purp dutch
A phone call in 40 seconds I can have everybody on earth touched
So contact Jesus when I work up
Not 911, nigga that’s gon get the ambulance shot, the doc knocked, the nurse cut, hospital bed spread, tied around his head/legs
Bones fractured and nerves crushed
That flatline go “doo-doo-doooooop” and it’s “clear!” you got served up
Y’all from Jersey, well Jet, I’m a Rams fan, what, that ain’t worth much?
Well ya bitch gon catch bullets too
Better warn her/Warner how I Kurt/cut stuff
Verb told me practice, I say, rehearse what?
I heard Surf, he garbage, dirt, dust, his verse suck
He the worst slut, he cross dress, leave his purse clutched
Drink semen from a straw and burp nut
I could work up and Surf gon get wet like, “Surf’s up!”
Gnarly dude, Cowabunga, power hunger put a coward under
SMACK! Who is this nigga? Why y’all even dial my number?!
See I don’t QUESTION MARKS, my EXCLAMATION… POINT, BLANK PERIOD
I’m a semi holder, I tell Surf PAUSE like a COMMA
Then put two dots on ‘em, turn this nigga to a SEMI-COLON
But that’s more than a SIMILE
When I say HYPEN that mean DASH (-) Damon
But I’m aiming to leave his whole squad in (PARENTHESIS)
That’s a casket, to all that pimp shit you talk about on the mic
About the bitches that you bone and pipe
You in love with ya baby mama, her real name is Symona Wright
Aye Symona! If you in the building….
Text my phone when you get home tonight!
She said “let me put the baby to sleep” I say, “I got you boo boo”
*Shhhh! Shhh!* get to boning like *moaning* nut like “ahh!”
Hit Symona like, nut, drop the baby and then leave
Smack her on her ass and don’t text the bitch phone goodnight
Aye Surf in love with a stripper, he cuddle, hug her and kiss her
I just fuck her and don’t tip her, bitch go on! I dismiss her
Now what’s wrong with that picture? I see Surf out with her
I hit her up like, “what’s good cunt? I’m trying to come get ya”
She say, “uh-uh, who’s this?” I say- nah, I don’t say my name
I put the phone down by my big dipper, she like … “Ill?”
The bitch top me off so much she memorize the sound of my zipper
So do ya block a favor, and tell ‘em you are not a gator
In the kitchen chopping rocks with razors, stop it playa


[Round 3: Tsu Surf]
So Yung Ill got somethin’ to tell
He said fuck me? Well that’s what I do to Michelle
And that’s his girl, I’m flyin if I’m lyin
It get hotter than a desert when that llama blam
Fuck change punk, I’m a Osama fan
Sheryl Swoopes ya idol, Marlon a Domets fan
Just a nigga-bitch that ball, Jwanna Mann
They say Tsunami don’t got it all, somethin sick in me
Cause the boy a catch enough bullets
To make the pro bowl, with Chris Henry
He get cinco form that ocho, Oh No! Dot dot button up his top like polo
No gun, fuck it he getting jumped like pogo
His girl go down and stay down she a yo-yo
Head game Fabolous, we call da bitch Loso
If ya father been runnin’ all his life and he a reverend
Who that make you? Jo-Jo!
Like you said, you don’t get money you be starvin
Aye Verb flunky, you a Little Man Marlon
Pull it down, outline get drew, then they carry him
Throw his lil ass cross the field like a javelin
If he the TARGET, you can see a wall mark (Wal-Mart) after I splatter him Maverick, scorch him with that sun type of heat, Shawn Marion
I dare one of you St. Louis niggas try to ride on me
They gassed up I be cookin, I ride on E
Bang like KG, smother turkeys like gravy
Talkin bout he kiss Verb cause Wayne kiss Baby
Big guns, lil guys I buck buck post ‘em
Whole/hole in his bread and for cream cheese I toast him
Surf just pop up yellin wit them glock up
One shot hit the hoody, rest tear the top up, Jersey…

[Round 3: Yung Ill]

I talk to em before I whoop ‘em, how ya old man do
Shit you don’t think fat meets greasy, well I’ma show that’s true
I tell him “go get that switch” he bitch or say “no can do”
Then it’s on and he so damn fruit
Cuz if I have to get my own
I’m coming back whooping him on for old and new
Like “POW!” that’s for hoping I lose, “POW!” that’s for ya daddy’s sperm
And every raggedy egg in ya mom fallopian tube
“BOW!” that’s for being dark skin and dirty, softer than Fergie
Looking 18 going on 30
“BOW!” that’s for being another phony rap goon
Internet thug that wouldn’t get live in a chat room
“BOW!” his ass aching, his back ruined
He run into the kitchen hear is mama from the back room like
“Leave my baby alone, you ain’t have to do all that to ‘em”
I turn this darn liar to bon fire
A match to ‘em, bat to ‘em, back shooting
Attack ‘em and back bruise him
Take a 15 minute break… shit, chill and come back to him
Toss ‘em on a train track and start hacking a axe thru ‘em
See y’all stunt, my niggas criminals and they all want it
And they all on it, so tell ya pitbulls, poodles and puppies, ya dogs on it
Ya group of troopers gon get Debo’d on Friday
I’m Pops with that pooper scooper, dog hunting
Any witness that said they saw something, I’ma SAW something
Turn Surf body to a large woman, toss ‘em in the highway
Rush hour and make ‘em play dodgeball while cars coming
Yeah dog stunting for attention I don’t pay y’all none
Til I retire on a pension and my pay off come
But with this Word War I’ll World War Adolf son
German choppers, Napalm bombs and his face all numb
Visit his place, I’ll come walk in that driveway unload
He gon swear I was the highway patrol
Them infrareds make this clock look like a radar gun
But Tsunami act wet pussy, moist punani
I don’t need a suitcase lawyer with suits to sue ‘Nami
He gon swear Martin & Gina friend had a twin
When I come with these two Tommy’s
My mama saw my last battle, she said my speech was absurd
That foul language won’t get you famous, stop them 4 letter words
A bad mama- shut yo mouth, don’t blame it on me
A glad mother, no 4, I’ma do you in 3
See Surf ACT like he get worshipped like a GOD
But for that D.O.E. I H.I.T. my D.O.G’s and he’ll get R.O.B’d
You can A.S.K. ya M.O.M. who’s ya P.O.P… me
And advice to S.O.N. from D.A.D. forget R.A.P. and get a J.O.B.
My pockets gon spend that worst day large
Put some candles on my cake, my checks get signed like Birthday cards
I turn this battle to a party, y’all can decorate the room
I got the gift, only thing we missing is the balloons
Get this nigga outta here man…

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