T-Rex vs. Okwerdz [Lyrics]

[Round 1: T-Rex]

They told me not to come to grind time, it was biased
But they hate me everywhere so I said fuck it, I’ma try it
Con, they put me in front of this Astronaut, named Brian
That I didn’t eat last year cuz I was on a diet
He can’t tell bout people that’s dyin’
But he could tell you how many light years it take
For a space shuttle to get to Zion
This geek look like a professor in science
A retarded quarterback for the Giants
That’s 29 and a half years old and get an allowance
It ain’t a gangsta bone in his body, nowhere
He still can’t have company in his house without his folks there
If he’s a wrestler, I’ll spit in the crowd and throw chairs
If he was a wrestler, he’ll blow niggas in the crowd and wear gold hair
I could tell he’s a wannabe tough dude
Tapes of him butt naked in Lush room
And blamed it on all the ecstasy pills and the mushrooms
My punchlines make peoples’ eyes swell
You don’t even rhyme well, all you do is scream, whine, cry, yell
And they laugh because you remind them of Seinfeld
Flow and delivery, what I’m all about
Breakin’ niggas down to pieces, Ars, I’m the Slaughterhouse
Money, don’t fuck with murders, Ortiz, whatchu frontin’ for?
Give me a Crooked I, these 5’9s will knock ya buttons/Buddens off
My peoples looked at my like “Rex, what the guns is for?”
You better off with a glass of milk, this nigga muffin soft
I’m like “of course, but I love it when the heat is workin'”
Long clip, keep spittin’ like a teethless person
He ain’t got no street credibility, he ain’t even worth it
He wouldn’t wave a firearm if his sleeve was burnin’
Now it’s time for you to get exposed
His face is already red so we know that he a clown
All he missin is the nose
He already got on an outfit and them stupid ass shoes
Since you stupid, I’ma start rappin’ stupid, like you
I’ll step on your spine ’till your back starts to break
Then throw hurricanes at you, till ya earth starts to quake
Then I’ll take your remains, and throw ’em in a lake
Now, what’s that shit on the side of your face?
It could talk, this thing really could talk, it was hollerin’ at his mother
To be honest, Lush this shit by my ear is the father to his little brother
And look, I just got a phone call from his mother
It went “Hi, T-Rex, I know that you’re black
I got a son named Brian and you know that he raps
I’ll give ya whole crew the head you let him spit on a track
I already fucked Tech N9ne, and Kool G Rap”
Wait…let me take off this goddamn hat
You think you gon’ beat me wearin’ some shit like that?
You think you could defeat me wearin’ some shit like that?
Nigga I’ll pull out big guns, that’ll make that stupid ass hat run….
EASY…Harlem, bitch!

[Round 1: Okwerdz]

After ducking all year now that he’s here I get it
He wasn’t scared on no fear of death shit
He just needed 9 months cuz his ear was pregnant
I said one line about you, I thought this guy’d ignore it
But he did a racist blog with all types of horse shit
Look, this mafucka did 11 minutes long, plus a live performance
And had the nerve to say that I’m riding YOUR DICK
Nobody here is clappin for yo bars
They just wanna see you get smashed with a crowbar
Cuz you’re a bigger faggot than solar
You’re on a massive losing streak, Math jus chewed this geek
If this was smack then you would be, the black illusion z
So no hypin em GT, he’s tryin to cheat me
He’s been writin for 9 months I been writin for 3 weeks
You’re not so monstrous and vicious, according to fossils that there diggin
Tyrannosaurus has more in common with, an ostrich or a pigeon
So when he’s duckin me he’s just followin tradition
Cuz the T-Rex eventually evolves into a chicken
And ya visions based on movement, that’s too damn easy
Cuz I’m making moves, but you can’t see me
So take yo bitch ass right back to the forest
Fuck a T-Rex we have a The Saurus
But he thinks he’s here touring, and recording cuz he’s sickly
Till he gets to the spot where he’s performing and its empty
Goons wearing masks start swarming with the ciggy’s
And deport ‘em from the city like E-40 did to Biggie
And I’m a nobody’s what’s he’s telling to his peers
But til I gave attention to this queer, he’d been irrelevant for years
A skeleton, it’s evident, and never been as clear
I resurrected your career just by mentioning your ear
[Round 2: T-Rex]

I’m from where you get niggas hammered
You know hammered, like slumped
He’s from where you get niggas hammered
You know hammered, like, drunk
I’m from where you ride up and spray lead
The toughest thing he ever did was smashin’ a beer can with his head
I’m from where you ride up and let eights off
And he’s from where there ride up….ramps on skateboards
He hate girls, his father is into gay porn
On Halloween I heard he had a Ru Paul cape on
Now of course, what makes him think he could rhyme with Rex?
I’m built, only thing he ever kilt was a Irish dress
You a baller? I’m the refs, I whistle there goes the tech
No football at all but bullets thrown at ya chest
It don’t make your raps no harder cuz ya face turn red
Cuz the people that don’t know you, they might think you was dead
Now the word around Stockton? That they hate you to death
They don’t respect you, they neglect you, they think you a Fed
Now when I turned to Dizaster, you know the things that he said?
“Fuck all the rumors you hear about Okwerdz cuz he’s great in the bed”
I hear that’s your man and you supposed to be close with ’em
But Lush, that don’t mean he should be freestylin’
And lockin’ himself in the vault with ’em
Come out the closet, you niggas gay, everybody know ya’all frontin’
Y’all be slappin’ each other on the ass like “good game”
And ain’t nobody playin’ nothin!??
Nigga that’s disgustin’! You bitch, you fag, you homo, you dweeb
That take pills, that pop E, PCP, sheesh
He fuckin’ with more drugs than Duane Reade
Now this nigga done lost to who? Iron, Hollow, Arsonal
Difference is I got iron, and hollows, in my arsenal
I understand Iron and Arsonal, but that nigga Hollow is horrible
This ain’t the panthers versus the Klan, this ain’t Kobe against Nash
This is not white against black, or Grindtime against Smack
This is real against fake, this is me against that
It’s about a nigga that’s a legend, against a nigga, that was ehhhh
I’m a vet, I kill niggas on cameras and shit
And he’s a vet, he be dealin’ with hamsters and shit
I be lookin’ at girls’ ass, he look at little girls’ Pampers and shit
That don’t make you a man, you a bitch
I want that power and respect
You sneak in my bathroom I’m in that shower with the tech
I kill him downtown with the powder and the wet
I’m a wild farmer, wearin’ the farmer and the vest
I promise I’m the best
I hit ’em with the llama it’ll knock ’em down the steps
Don’t be arguin with Rex, bitch on ya strip ya dome get split
One in his chest make him fold like a phone that flip
Silencer was on the front, he never heard it spit
I murked his ass…he still think he on hold with Sprint
I came here to fuck up the crime rate
Now he don’t know who takin’ him out, it feel like a blind date

[Round 2: Okwerdz]

You can’t beat Ok I’ma heat rock slumpin em dead
Why my battling an ewok with a reebok pump on his head?
So now you pop off and you the top dog in a range
But where the fuck was the dot mob when u got robbed for ya chain?
You told me you’s gangsta, with the most Glocks in America
But when math called him out he said “It’s not in my character”
You wouldn’t popped a shot with a derringer, damn he’s a frail nerd
On tracks he’s a jailbird, but in real life Randy’s a male nurse
So you ain’t cocking a shotty, only time he ever caught him a body
Is when a patient fainted in the hospital lobby
And it’s comical, all the time that you spend in a hospital
It never dawned on you, to maybe get that baby cock removed?
At work they probably make em wear a band aid over it
But you need to put a muthafuckin lamp shade over it
You know who told me the hospital shit is true?
Here bitch I’ll give a clue, the snitch is in your crew
This is faggot disposal, snapping I’m postal
I’ll smash and expose you like Math was supposed to
And every Mook battle y’all behind em like some peasants
Reciting every sentence and hyping like some yes men
So don’t try to say that were biased for a second
You’re the reason the that word ‘dickrider’ was invented
Like fuck Serius Jones we crushed you easy
Then Mook turns to em like, “the fuck you mean we?”
And if you taught him so much about battling
Then why in the fuck are you stuck in his shadow then?
I think that thing was put there to remind you how bad it’s been
For Murda Mook to have something attached to him

[Round 3: T-Rex]

Everybody know I’m kickin’ his ass, so it don’t matter what he say already
And how the crowd feel in ya hometown, cuz I got paid already
He say my name in his last two battles so you know he respect me
But it never made me mad cuz he never impress me
Then he had the nerve to say what he’ll do if he catch me
Then what did he do when he catch me? Not a damn thing
Fifth so strong it damn near tore a hamstring
Had to learn to shoot from my right till my left hand spring
Dot Mob, bitch, I started my own campaign
I’m aimin’ for his Browz, it get popped like champagne
Whatchu think I came all the way to Oakland not to get off?
For you to beat me
You gon’ need a bed from Rick Ross, the outfit from Kriss Kross
Lil’ Kim’s lip gloss, Superman’s power, and a mission from Jigsaw
This nigga gotta be jokin’, I got the stamp, I’m the young Kevin Durant
I brung that Thunder to Oakland
Now these niggas gave me the OK, for me to kill OK
Couldn’t do it in Harlem, had to bring it to OK
Shooters on call, spray when I give that OK
You finished, you Nicole Simpson, I’m OJ
Now everybody know he racist from the shit that he say
Cuz he answer all of his questions like, “OKKK”
I always hear him talkin bout
How he always sprayin stuff when it come on
And how he’s always got his gun drawn
And where I’m from they say fuck a one on
So we’ll put all these white people in boxes
It’ll remind ’em of when The Brady Bunch come on
So just know that when I’m comin’ to spark ya & you see that long nose That it ain’t “Marsha Marsha Marsha”
Nigga you said you was gon’ fuck T-Rex up
Well I’m two deep in ya hometown nigga, what?
Nigga I’m kickin’ yo ass cuz of Beasley and cuz of Lush
I’m whippin’ yo ass, from Rosa Parks’ seat on that bus
I’m whippin’ yo ass, cuz you fake, and I’m real
I’m whippin’ yo ass for that little black girl in “It’s Time to Kill”
Nigga I’m whippin’ yo ass cuz I’m a gangsta and you ain’t shit
I’m whippin’ yo ass cuz it’s 2010 and you still own a slave ship
Now, I’m not hatin’ but
If I give this white guy a black eye is that segregation?
Think it’s a game when I’m sneakin’ through ya window
Sparkin’, blowin’ the cartridge like I’m playin’ a Nintendo
50 dots hoppin’ outta rentals
Bats swing at ’em, now he’s duckin’ under sticks like it was limbo
(?) I play with Glocks and I got a fistful
Pop and will not miss you, got me in the octagon
Now this nigga Ok’ is gone
Pop the jawn, couldn’t see my face, I had the stocking on
Dot mob bitch….

[Round 3: Okwerdz]

See when you lost to Un Kasa, you reused lots of rhymes
And that’s how the dude caught ya cuz he knew all your lines
Stop reusing the same trash it’s horrible, you’ll get smashed to particles
Cuz he recycles more than Captain Planet and that faggot Arsonal
See the problem with you “street rappers” you only got one style
You’ve been doing the same shit since you lost to Young Miles
But see from the geeks, to the street peeps homie I done reached long
Comedy or mean long, what he does and beyond
Freestyle or pre-drawn what he does and beyond
We could even tell Freeway to throw a beat on
This battle’s a slam dunk, I’ma dribble to the hoop
I put 5 grand up, this pigeon flew the coup
See my big homies make hits for Cube and Snoop
Your big homies make chicken noodle soup
And after that racist blog you did and all the whites you clowned
You think anybody here’s gonna like you now?
You probably think all black people flare gats and be crooks
And all white people wear slacks and read books
But now he’s left without respect, this clown just left
Black people back a thousand steps from Malcolm X
And they say I’m scared to go to New York and I act so pussy
If I’m so scared, how come Smack won’t book me?
I said I want one of your best rappers, a heavy name
They offered me X-Factor & Jesse James
Next they’ll probably suggest that little Nuborn midget
But fuck that I’m tryna be Murda Mook’s mortician
So start offering Solomon’s and not luke warm bitches
And I’ll be there in a muthafuckin New York minute

Follow us on Twitter @BattleLyrics

Follow us on Twitter @BattleLyrics

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