Hollow Da Don vs. Big T [Lyrics]

[Round 1: Big T]

Ayo Smack, what these niggas raising? These niggas all prunes
Fire what? Nigga you wouldn’t light it up in a dark room
Blast what? Nigga you couldn’t be that gassed up with car fuel
Why y’all giving him mac support? This nigga won’t give you back support
He like a barstool, so go ahead do ya drive-by
I’m a draw tools, you fire we gon fan back at ya til it’s all cool
And leave everything everywhere
Nigga I hope the car full now
That’s my way for turning a blood bath to a carpool
That bitch you talk to in a plane cockpit sucking me and my mans cock
She say I throw up off a nut Big T so tell me when you finna nut Big T
So I can’t stop, now don’t be no asshole, asshole? Bitch say it again
I said bop! Now she throwing somebody else kids in the air like Hancock
Asshole, I ask hoes like why he rap this week?
I know he thinking like I should’ve worked hard them past few weeks
This round put you in the ground fool I stomp you to get the last two feet
Boy you couldn’t get rid of footage this bad
If you invented cream for athlete’s feet
Boy don’t ask Big T about his street ties, please try
I make the hardest nigga you know sling pies convert serve bean pies
I aim to do whatever to get my point across, please try
Nigga I take the LK outta luck just so I can make you CY
Please guy I know he like he holding tech’s
And I’m Hollow he spaz out right
No tourettes, I’m like dude you can bring on ya best
And take picture like this you still wouldn’t pose threat
I’m bored to death with all these what you need to be me one liners
He gon say you need Zangief piledrivers, you need all the Dhalsim fires
You need all the Bison elite fighters
So how is you getting busy in the streets liar?
Sound like somebody was too busy playing Street Fighter
My whole team rides this shit is in my nature
So if you got niggas looking out for me, I got my ways of saying thank you
So if I hit you with 6 or a 7 in the clip
Since I still owe you 1, I’m just returning the favor
Hollow think he the gangsta, why this nigga talking for me?
Why stand here with this nigga? Why (?) talk with buddy?
Boy you think I was a ventriloquist when my hands in a talking dummy
I won’t let my lips move, I let my hands do the talking for me
I got these guns I just feel like I wanna rearrange shit
Aim it at the couch, knock it down to the basement
I put the basement in the attic, put the attic down to the basement
Bullets ricocheting off cabinets, switching all of the paintings
Changing all of the vases, switching all of the statements
Well you can’t tell if I was redecorating or making a statement

[Round 1: Hollow Da Don]

I said I was playing street fighter all night long
For four hours and never picked Balrog
I said not saying Big T could get me
Is like saying Big T’s Big Tee could fit me
Bitch please, I swear I’m a fight dun greasy
Will I fuck him up? “Yeaaaaaahhh,” like Young Jeezy
When I was young my dad showed me how that pipe (slung) freely
So shooting might come easy like Mike Dunleavy
Listen Pastor Mase, slash, slash ya face
Wack rapper fake and fads have a break
He’s a fag but wait, I know that cuz his last names Tate
Like Lorenz, so ya first name should be Rudy cuz even ya last names Gay
Nigga in a battling session I’m grabbing a Wesson
Splat his chest in
Give him everything from battered intestines to bladder infection
This can get real Shabba Ranks in a matter of seconds
Cuz I’m good if I’m guapped up
But I’m mobbing if I ain’t good with no cash
Hustle on the block with you, see where you hid ya shit
Leave, then come back to ya hood for your stash
Rob the bag, he like we just hustled together
I’m like don’t get ya brain cooked on the ave
Jim Carey style I act different when I put on that mask
I took war wounds for hip-hop, I call goons and clips pop
I have liquids leaking out you like cartoons when they get shot
I should’ve did him like Cassidy tell em put wild cake up
Cuz how you gon battle me with a style that I made up
Remember against Deacon Frost he said
“You’ll need Jason’s saw 6 if they all mixed”
He even waved his arms with the ball fist nigga that’s the Don’s shit
I give you an example of what I do for the people that don’t know me
I drag you to a construction site torch your body
Have a jack hammer forge thru his torso probably
Dig a hole, toss his body, no coffin bury this shit head in a porter potty
I went to the Chi, they won at Big T’s house
He stay with a pregnant wife and a daughter that’s 3

[Round 2: Big T]

This nigga lying about his Danny Glover clip
You know Big T be on some other shit
Like I’m done fuckin ya mother, I’m bout to fuck me another bitch
You know it’s Hollow Da dinininon
You know that fag be on some other shit
I’m feeling lucky like Leprechaun Smack, so I feel like I want a wish
First off I wish everything you said to Yung Ill happen to you
While you getting a razor shave the barber slips
And the razor blade come across ya adams apple
Boy you get hit and tackled with moves
That hit sticks and all Madden couldn’t do
They diagnosed the cure of AIDS for you
But then they find an incurable cancer in you
Which gave ‘em 24 hours to live on the 23rd hour I wish a semi smash into
You survive the collide in reverse and run back into you
I don’t wish jail on nobody
But I wish they lock 300 pounds faggots with you
Next time you take a shit they make you use a Brillo pad instead of tissue
I wish E&J and Math Hoffa take a handicap battle on you
Ya hat brim touch Math nose and Hollow goes
Oh You Think I’m Styling On You
Out of nowhere a right hook from Philly crack come hit you
You fall asleep and go in the same coma Joey Jihad went into
Hollow on you he saying he gon get the Tech pop
That’s gon get this bitch neck popped
Turned around, uppercut out his sweat socks
Thick ass vest, only way I’m getting wings and a halo out a chest shot
That gun better shoot out cans of red bull and an X Box
So you better quit letting ya 4-5 pop, surprised huh?
How can a nigga this big survive like Pac
The beef I’m bringin to you I won’t let the crime stop
Till I see they corpse, EA Sports couldn’t get you this much live stock
You’ll get a spine shot so even if you still here
For the rest of ya life you might be physically impaired
You’ll be like Drake in Degrassi
Not cuz you both light skinned and real square
You’ll be another actor that raps in a wheelchair
You off those pills here go ahead be stupid
I tie him down, smack with the gun, bitch quit moving
I make his ass swallow a gallon of lean fluid
Tylenol 3 codeine to see if he OD to it
Get all type of aspirins, amphetamine to it
Drink chew it, inject it in sections, but he keep movin
Hollow Da Don gone be Hollow Da Done, I add ecstasy to it
Think stupid, all I’m do in is add an E to it
I here Yung Berg lying again from a nigga I’m a treat it like it’s my chain
Nigga rob every bike chain to ya lil kids bike chain
Nigga go on a robbing spree and shake shorty for his light change
Make a armor height stain make look like I’m hitting a dice game
I’m starting to feel like T.I. I go thru my whatever you like phase

[Round 2: Hollow Da Don]

I might Holla at my nigga’s Math or Cortez
Get some niggas from BK that’s hoodied down
Or hit Bugz up maybe some niggas from the Boogie Down
Cuz my Queens niggas keep it thorough with no crooks around
So he right about that wheelchair
Cuz that’s the only way I get pushed around
I’m the reason Hitman Holla ain’t kill ‘em but I hate to pay him like 3 to 5
The contract said Hitman fuck him up, but bring em to me alive
Cuz when he called me out
I made some funny faces took it like a G and slide
Knowing the murder and torture I had built up deep inside
Smack, put captions so they could read this rap
And let em know ain’t no G’s in macks, ain’t no I in Team
But it’s a T in FAT, roasting session
I heard of Big & Tall but I never heard of big and small
Maybe you should open up a different store called
“I’m fat and I can’t find my dick and balls”
And he right, next time you call me out have bars for Math and Solomon
Mook’s third when he got at Lux
You had my evil shit bottled up but T that’s not enough
You gon need Hollow’s buzz, Drago, Apollo gloves
And Swag’s winning lotto stub
But for me to lose I’d have to not show up or get hit by a Tahoe truck
Or just ain’t got no luck like I forgot to rub the Apollo stump
But the day I give my verses up
That’ll be the day Lil Wayne stops sippin purple stuff
And Lara let Urkel fuck
I let one go at everybody in his front row
Brrrrrr! you hear a drum roll and see a finger waving like Mutumbo
Then I run up on ya man with a clip like this
And put ya dog in a bag like rich white chicks
And then it’s Big T turn I’m a blast you down
No words that semi’s final you get the last two rounds
Trey pound strapped like lie flat
Don’t play ball for Kentucky but I’m a wild cat
From awhile back he’s been hating give me my style back
Anticipating yet waiting I can’t allow that
I mean in the kitchen shaking and baking profound stacks
I’m caking cuz I’m taking what you making and house that

[Round 3: Big T]

Of course I see the T in fat after this battle you die it’s no tomorrow
The flow will follow to bring out the hoe in hollow
Little man, after this you gon need a doctor and a dental plan
Next step, funeral homes, violin instrumental playing
But if ya man I hear you cutting trees like Edward Scissor hands
I send my little man have bullets to connect to ya boss
Like the middle man
Go and get ya man, Cortez I have em tell em where I stay
I’ll meet up with just me and my girlfriend
She’ll take out anything in the way I wave
She don’t even got to see you to take you out
Now that’s my way of getting ya mans to set you up on a blind date
Find tape, take picture of ya family in a straight line
After that it’s slaying time, un door the canine
Now he in a funeral and I ain’t realizing
Like Big T my family like Martin and Shanaynay
You’ll never see em together at the same time
Wonder why I ain’t use name flips? Don’t be surprised
Cuz when Hollow tips and hollow tips they don’t equalize
You know when I think of Hollow tips
It’s bullets explode when it reach inside
When I think of Hollow tips it’s “put down those scissors
They get too close they can reach ya eyes”
When I think of Hollow tips I’m thinking heat, people dies
When I think of Hollow tips
“Aye Big T before you cross the street check either side”
When I think of Hollow tips I’m in fear, I think of nines
When I think of Hollow tips, “put down that beer, don’t drink and drive”
I know he thinking like why do I think of this madness?
But this nigga be looking broke so much it’s started to become a habit
You swing on my you get ya ass kicked
It’ll remind him of that Philly and Swave battle
We’ll watch him take the lean out his jacket
In the arena with Immaculate that was some creative shit b
He ripped his tank top open like Hulk Hog—- man that shit weak
I mean it’s cool but it won’t work against me
If you have problems ripping a tank top open
What makes you think you can rip a Big T
Hollow hit me like tellin’ these jail stories like…
“I ain’t know that honey bun on the bed wasn’t prepared for me, like
I ain’t know that was a sexual advance for me
But Big T you can’t go and use that against me, I was that hungry
Now he walking round talking bout he gon be there for me
Big brawny niggas pick on me for being scrawny
Got me participating up in male on male orgy’s
Talking bout I gotta please him every time he get horny
I don’t mind tossing they salad
But I could at least wipe when they doo doo
They eating all my food thru the whole kid and kaboodle
He been doggystyle so much
They switched his cell to a kennel cuz they thought he was a poodle
Now this (?) shit is brutal, this Mr. 106 for 7 times
Aight for 7 lines I’m a show em I murder this nigga 7 times
I want you broke in a dice game with ya last 35 they fading a five
And they roll a 7 on him 7 times
I seen this nigga already killed twice
He got nine lives, cat, it’s only right I kill him 7 times
Take him to the 106 and park building face under the car engine
Then park on his face 7 times
Unload the 7 on him 7 times, 7 times, then another 7 times
And thru that times 7 times 7 times 7 and do it all over again 7 times
And for the people that hate the one rhyme gun line punchlines
They really gonna hate me for that one rhyme
Cuz ya boy Hollow gon be hollowed up the house at Hollow 50,421 times

[Round 3: Hollow Da Don]

You said hollow tips, hollow tips, hollow tips
That’s all you rhyme so I can tell ya songs is lazy
You hit me for a track but if you wanna do a song than pay
Cuz before I hear you I’d rather hear a catalogue from Gravy
Or the best of Khia that Florida lady or 100 bars from Baby
Cuz Mobb, Nas, Jigga, Hov, I grew up on Biggie’s time
I shed a tear and cried when I heard Biggie died
So don’t compare yourself to Biggie rhymes cuz ya son got Biggie eyes
And you 350 with Biggie size cuz all you know is Wendy’s and Biggie fries
Nigga I’m the dinininon, the dinininon, the dinininon
I’m the one they all out follow, they think of you Big T
That fat nigga from Chicago that called out Hollow
Said he went to jail for pimpin yeah he was in that cell
Changed out his street clothes picked his shirt size, 6 XL
They assigned him a top bunk
He asked his celly for the bottom bed and got punked
Now he got stuck
Cuz he gotta make it to the top bunk and his fat ass cannot jump
Verb & Holla he said the Midwest best snaps on that
I said Verb he too big to make his back bone stretch
But it’s funny how I’m in the 3rd round and I still got fat jokes left
Look, he’s frail pathetic but with a whale’s genetics
But I really don’t get it cuz he works out and does calisthenics
I mean in the morning he sits up then he pulls up at the chicken shack
Orders chicken nuggets, then does a set of dips with that
Nigga you too slow to scrap so nigga you punching who
And if you do clap where the fuck are you running to?
He’s always on the net I must say he’s a geek y’all
His mom bring his plate by the computer and he eats hard
He dissing me Hollow switched the date he’s a retard
Mentioned my name so much his grease stains on the H of his keyboard
He the type tell his niggas I’ll ride for you I’ll die for you
Nigga I’ll pop that tool
Then the nigga run up on him, “what up with ya man!”
Yo yo we not that cool, you broke an LOM rule you god damn fool
You could ask my NYB niggas I’m hot like Jay flow is from Marcy
And you gon take the L like you bout to go to Canarsie
I’m a make you pass like Pass’ but this time it ain’t that bitch Michelle
That bitch you brought with you ewwww she might get you killed
Nigga I ain’t gotta spit a shell, gypsy spell, voodoo bitch wish him hell
He had a worst case of sickle cell when his digestive system fail
He sent his soldiers to get me well, missiles fell, pistols nails
Platoons took an official L
The lieutenant yelled we’re gonna need back up, mission failed
Nigga I stopped rapping bout guns
Then I see fat niggas like this that never owned one
Fantasizing rapping and yapping about my old ones
Therefore when a magnum on me
I leave blood on the wall and the cabinets homie
It’s gon look like three bad ass kids was eating ravioli
This ain’t about who’s right or who’s wrong
This about who’s nice and who’s awwwww
Nigga even with no jewels on
Only rocks I got are diamonds the size of croutons
You fucking cheap like Jew porn
Nigga Hollow’s model is cool calm, you a five dollar bottle of Boones Farm
Nigga I back hand him, he got choices to make he gon act random
He don’t know whether to go for it, pass or run and he can’t ask Madden
I said nigga you corny and you dress like a old man fool
Got no swag dusty boots, dusty braids, old shampoo
Nigga my bars can make the Chi and the A go ham to
You corny like Braxton you and ya Brohams to

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