Hitman Holla vs. Aye Verb [Lyrics]

[Round 1: Hitman Holla]

Ayeverb versus Charlie Clips he said…
If a nigga wanna see that Holla and Verb
Put that money up and I will not serve
So what the fuck are we battling for Verb?
Those few bars alone already prove you not a man to your word
You created who? ……me? Nigga I perfected my grind
Cuz World War was yours but it was technically mines
I had the most wins, brung the most money
Battles stay packed, did the most views, I’m just naming facts
But long story short for the people that wanna know
It was Ayeverb’s stage ya boy just took over the show
This ain’t for the king of the city I did this for whatever cash
Cuz I can’t take a crown from him that he never had
We could keep it street or keep it rap it’s whatever Chaz
But make the wrong choice you’ll leave here in a leather bag
Aye pops, niggas calling my phone, I’m like y’all don’t know nathan’
Handle what situation? Ayeverb? I got a degree in communications
That (?) off the dresser I wish you would test us boy
I’ll expose verb like an English professor
You probably gotta step to me with lyrics that’s what you do the most
But delivery and quotes? Ain’t even close
And performance I got you beat by 100 votes
They laugh at you not with you, you motherfuckin’ joke
Now I could’ve got personal, but I chose not
And it’s BMG gang we something you hoes not
Close curtain how you can certain get closed in a box
Better do some soul searching or get ya soul shot
You’ll never run the streets nigga I’m a road block
A couple niggas wanna call yo bluff I should auction you
But I told niggas he cool that’s what bosses do
But watch what you say in ya rhyme, be cautious dude
Cuz I’ll forget his rap and stop ya verse like who you talking to?
It ain’t a street bone in his body he’s not what he seem
I punch niggas with no warning than (?)
And you look kinda confused let me show you what I mean
My set no play ground so I don’t got a get pushed for me to swing
It’s a lot of weapons I got slay y’all with
The black gloves rubber grip with the radar chip
I come to one of Verb parties with an AR clip
And shoot soon as I get in like I’m J.R. Smith
Fuck it, fuck it I’m a remix it
It’s a lot of weapons I got slay y’all with
The black gloves rubber grip with the radar chip
The black gloves rubber grip with the radar chip
I come to one of Verb parties with an AR clip,
And shoot soon, and shoot soon, and shoot soon, and shoot soon
And shoot soon as I get in like I’m JR Smith
Matter fact you a bitch! Man up you need to bark when you bite
You was a sucka back then you a sucka tonight
At any time you feel tempted it’s nothing to fight
I cut his ring off my foot work tougher than Mike’s
By the time you two or three you get snuffed with a right
You marketable, I’m remarkable we’re nothing alike
And you act the way you act because ya mother’s a dyke
(?) cuz he fuckin that (?)
I aint’ an STL rookie my nigga, they threw the best on him
Lookin around one of the niggas that put the vets on him
Let the caps fly on stage, go Rex on him
Cash on his head, got money orders and checks on him
Nigga you a bitch no reason to pull a tech on him
I’ll put him way way in the whole I in debt homie
You old ass clown just an old ass noun
Let a young nigga shine sit ya old ass down
I know I said I could’ve got personal but I chose not
I was talking first round, second round it gets hot

[Round 1: Ayeverb]

A nigga hit me up and told me Verb! Holla on youtube dissing you
My first thoughts, Holla? Nada my nigga go get a clearer view
He said it’s Holla, I’m watching, go watch it, instantly I got hot like
This emotional, seven day menstrual move, weak pencil move having
Disloyal, bitch made, fool ass punk
Clicked the link to the interview to see what he trying to get into
And this nigga says!
“I’m mad at Verb cuz he ain’t come to my Arsonal battle
He ain’t call me in seven months” some shit a bitch will do
It’s pitful! How a million views could change Holla to a different dude
But to me he still that same bird ass nigga
Who never got bread, not even pigeon food
He down, he call me for the loan, he who I give it to
When his baby mama cheating on him with other niggas pitchin (?)
I’m the shoulder he cry on, I’m the nigga who listen to
Dispicable, cuz this lil nigga I used to fuck with
Even would’ve gave my liver to, nahhhh that isn’t true
But anywho, I gotta lynch this fool
Throw him in hot water like instant food, heavy like instant ooh
Y’all got him chose I get him chewed this bitch confused
Cuz round here I got the motherfuckin’ Juice, bars! Nigga I’m (?) brew
Lyrical chick-chick boom give him another hole to whistle thru
Aim that cannon flash still shot, no picture move
Holla! Killin’ you gon hurt me way more than it’s gon get to you
I carefully crafted these rounds, later give em that lyrical shower
First for the villain to beat the superhero
You gotta strip him of his power first
Reality check Holla, you are not a young star dog, you’re 24
And in December you just bought ya first car dog
Reality check Holla you a motherfucking fraud dog
But nigga you’re so fraud that you don’t even know you’re a fraud dog
Reality check Holla and I really gotta check that
You are not, I repeat, you are not from the west side
You’re from Hazelwood so throw up yo H bitch and rep that
Reality check Holla, before this battle shit kicked off
You talking to bitches? Nah, hitting bad broads? Ha!
You ugly ass lil boy, you have the swagger of a guard dog
Reality check Holla you was a part of team from St. Louis
Before I kicked you that squad dog
For talking too many shots, Mr. ball game, you’re a ball hog
Reality check Holla
He tell niggas he had a shootout so y’all won’t think that he weak
But he ain’t tell you he was shooting that rusty .38
In the air from across the street
And the niggas he was playing with they was gonna smoke
But I called and ask for a pass cuz you was dumb with no couture
I ain’t wanna see you dead or in a cell you fucking fool
But y’all don’t score my last two bars, that’s just what a real nigga do
Show time on everything I show Holla some shit he never seen
Rewrite his life movie and put a scary scream in every scene
Couple rings out that left will make a levy lean
When it’s (?) I go (?), get that pipe I smoke anything and everything
Ya lil maggot frame get a casket
Ya lil average dame get bagged and banged
What you gon do? Slide up on me while I’m at baggage claim
I go and get that steel lil nigga I play the passing lane
I’m in a cocky mood
I’m beating up on this dead meat, I’m in that Rocky mood
(?) dropped you
You went and hopped on Nelly dick faster than Ashanti do

[Round 2: Hitman Holla]

If you know anything about Hitman
Then you should know I don’t mess around
And when it comes to this battle shit
I do a lot of exposing in the second round
First off, I told you in advance that you never stood a chance
I’m greeted by demand
And you can’t pull my card because the city know my hand
Speaking of hands, you and I both know that you never got choked
You and I both know that whole rumor was a joke
But the shit that you did had me heated thru the charts
I’m a tell y’all the reason he aint’ come with me for Ars
Hanz had Verb spooked I’m talking real bad
I called Verb every day, after school, after class
Like, “yo did you get ya ticket? It’s about to go down”
And he said every time, “I’m online now”
But wait, I called the night before, he ain’t even call back.
Text me in the morning on some shit like, “I’m a fall back”
If that ain’t phony or shady than what you call that?
Respect that I once had for you I want it all back
Nobody care that ya resume up there with the heavyweights
When you walk around with hear t that belong with feather weights
Verb, nobody give a fuck that you fuckin all of the ladies
When every battle rapper consider you as a lady
And the nigga that protect you not gon come and help you
Or come to your rescue, cuz I’m his nephew
So all that guap gon protect you? That’s so not the case
Cuz where the fuck was Chase when you was getting chased?
You ran out of state got punched in the face on camera trying to escape
Man you so fuckin… waittt…
You mean to tell me
A nigga punched you in the mouth and all you did was pout?
What’s that? Now I ain’t saying walking around the city like a tough cat
But there’s rules you learn as a kid, fuck rap!
A nigga cuss you, it’s mandatory that you cuss back
A nigga rush you, it’s mandatory that you rush back
A nigga shoot at you, it’s mandatory that you shoot back
A nigga touch you, it’s mandatory that you touch back
And you did a song with (?) behind (?) back
And he used to give you money, never mind, besides that
You did some shit then showed you ain’t want no contact
(?) bombed first, when are you gon bomb back?
Let a nigga touch me, Tremaine where the nines at?
(?), banana clip, Mardi Gras, time strap,
All you here is get get the bloodclot every where
I was the man at 14, I do what I does
Before you battled SP the Louis ain’t know who you was
Limelight we was trill, gangbanging for real
Niggas was getting killed, we was out doing that
You was out at the meals
Trying to sell jewelry, belts, watches and heels
On my son I’m for real, St. Louis what the hell?
Y’all praise the nigga that tried to blackball street status from URL?
Oh, that’s on my son grand pap
The nigga hit my jack like “Street status is wack
Wait until I call smack, on a URL stage them niggas will never rap
I hate to say it St. Louis but that’s a motherfuckin fact
Ayeverb clown this choppa will lay this nerd down
Let’s talk about that parking lot situ…… I’m a save that for the 3rd round
You old ass clown, just an old ass noun
Let a young nigga shine sit ya old ass down!
Ball game!

[Round 2: Ayeverb]

Now this the round when I get lyrical
I ride up on Holla like a car and put lead in him like a pencil
What?! Them last bars they didn’t stick like that?
But y’all scream and go crazy when he say shit like that!
Explain me this cuz I don’t get it yet,
You rep west side blood gang 50100 block (?)
Right? Right? But how? Cuz lil nigga that’s a Crip set
But let me guess, let me guess
Since you do so much westsiding and bloop blooping
That they just gon let you soo woop it right
Bitch you sound stupid
It’s sucka in you Holla real niggas can read that shit
Plus it’s coward in you too cuz you bleed that shit
I ride on niggas like a gangsta with just me that’s it
If this was flip mob, I’d be Barry Sanders you’d be Emmitt Smith
Cuz you run behind ya block, I don’t need that shit!
If I catch him outside and tell this bitch nigga man up
He gon be like “mannn” … man what?!
I’m just saying Verb, on my mama, ball game!
Wait till mom get here, wait til mom get here
Man shut up lil nigga you ain’t reckless, you bang never
I’m a one man slay special get ya whole gang wet
If I come to you first, then all they cribs I’m like a chain letter
You on that sizzy look brother this my house heathen
You lizard looking motherfucker, mouse eater
How you gon stand here and be lil niggas?
When you running round screaming you see me, for Murphy Lee
When don’t nobody see him, so you just a little nigga’s little nigga
I’m a grown man Holla, I’m almost 30, a boss
You ain’t street, they think you street because you dirty and dark
You ain’t a killa, you a dolphin, you just related to sharks
I grab that eagle let it fly until that birdy get lost
Fuck it be soft dog, Mardis Gras parade in reverse
I throw something, he catch it and then it take it’s top off
This lyrical hot sauce, should I stop? Nah watch
I made you and I made me, they see you and be like who?
They see me and be like G! The club play you, but they pay me
So where the fuck is your fame?
It’s like I was playing Mortal Kombat on Sega Genesis with ya career
And pressed A B A C A B B cuz I put blood in the game!
Now let that marinate, my spot permanent, it’s very straight
Slow it down! My spot perm in it, it’s very straight
You a ground level feather weight fucking with a heavy weight
That can mid ground levitate
40 got 17 you take 5 like I told you take a break
Nah lets take that back, he say I’m over the hill, damn ain’t that strange
I come with a gun that’s Grant’s age, scope on it, go on a rampage
And get to shooting from Durant range
Bitch nigga you lost stay in yo damn lane

[Round 3: Hitman Holla]

Knock Knock, you know what that mean I’m back on my bullshit
Bow! They say they want that Hitman back
I’m on my old shit, now I’m in his crib, his granny up by her toes shit
Where his newborn? I stuff him up in the stove shit
Auntie, throat slit, yeah outta control shit, oh shit, Ars’ treatment…
What up Chaz? Well all them weapons and them things you shoot
I saw that footage and well you got some explaining to do
How many niggas chased you? Was it two?
Some brown skin nigga with waves…. Was it you?
The camera don’t lie, if you watch and see
It’s some URL battle rap nigga running thru a parking lot people
And his name start with a C
Fuck it lets get straight to the facts Verb
Them niggas that chased you is right by that bar
Go ahead, chase them niggas back Verb
Smack (?) you better warn him
I ain’t saving no more rappers I’m killin all ‘em
I load up that mac like I’m putting air in a Spalding
Bloaw! Run up on me you leave crawling
I’m eating real well I could tell you starving
But fuck rap, let’s get it on, Marvin
Niggas wanna deal im too ill, (?), (?)
(?) I came up the fastest
But fuck top tier give me that underdog status
I walked in hugs from the bitches, the baddest
He walked in tragic, no looks Magic
(?) I’m a motherfuckin savage
For the bills I turn into a gator like Brad
All this battle rapping and you broke, no bank account or Chase
St. Louis, slow it down
I said all this battle rapping and he broke, no bank can count on Chase
Come on Verb, like outta all people you know I do not play
So you can save all that cool shit for a hot date
How you still (?)
How you want it chalked up or picked up the mop way?
Found in a swimming pool and left under the dockway
(?) style go listen to what the doc say
Female bitch should’ve listened to what ya pops say
One of us the face of the Lou and he is not gay
(?) bloaw!
He’ll leave the city to play with angels (?) style
A quick snipe, I’ll let two go blow!
He’ll leave the city to play with angels (?) style
A quick snipe, I’ll let two go blow!
He’ll leave the city to play with angels (?) style
Calicoe put on a ball game shirt cuz I’m reppin’ you
I feel that Blackface said I’m one of his favs, this a trill fact
My second year making top tier, feel that
Cuz it’s a difference between metaphors and real rap
Ayeverb can’t keep up with the baddest, maybe my nigga Ill
But I got stronger after street status
St. Louis what up I show him what a college thug bout
Right jab something like lightning I knock a bulb out
I’m talking right now I don’t give a fuck what you was bout
Grown man what? This a grizzly to a cub scout
You ‘pose to be a boss well tell Smack where the gloves out
Old ass clown, just an old ass noun
Let a young nigga shine sit ya old ass down!
Ball game!

[Round 3: Ayeverb]

Holla, you such a fraud aren’t you
A nigga swung on me when I had a cast on, my foot was just broke
But when Twin swung on you, you just broke
It wasn’t a broken bone on you
Truthfully everybody knew there was nothing you could do with me
The test was could I kill you beautifully
And leave here without a bruise on me
You ain’t moving me, bitch get worried
My last round was your obituary; this one is your eulogy
You a snake in the grass Holla
But how you gon hide in that grass once I remove the weed
And everyone can view and see
You might not get it now but at the end of this round you’ll see
Real quick, if we was slaves and had a New York slave master
And the master came and said,
“Now which one of you country negroes wanna be my new house negro?”
He’ll kneel quick, I get to picking that cotton I’m on that field shit
I’m driving St. Lou to success, you make the wheel shift
I’m trying to destroy these New York niggas he trying to build shit
I knew one day this was gon’ be a match I had to deal with
I blame me
I should’ve stopped you before you got started like a kill switch
You made fun of Arsonal for driving that school bus to feed his people?
That ain’t real shit
But you riding with all these kids like you in a motherfuckin field trip
I will get that tool and let it grip
Go to work and put a drill bit in every nigga that you chill with
And I throw a steel fist, you never will bitch
We never saw we just heard you a swinger, nigga you Will Smith
If this was Menace to Society, you know who the fuck that we are
I be A Wax, Ill, O Dog, this nigga Cane like
Look man I’m just trying to do my thang
I aint dissing no east coast niggas aright
Nigga get the fuck out the car
See to ya’ll he may appear cool, I know him so I don’t feel dude
Ya character similar to flee market Holla, aint nothing real in you
You make me mad cuz you use this hood act like it’s a fad
Throw up ya red rag and sag and say on my momma behind everything
But you got everything a nigga who come from nothing never had
You got a momma and a dad
You’re privileged but you’re too ignorant to admit
Holla 75% of black fathers don’t even visit
I been to yo crib many times that shit roses and bubbles
I watched yo momma hug you, but yo father doesn’t love you
Cuz he let you be a sucka
When a father loves his son and the son means the world to the father
Son get to going down that road, you grab him up by that collar like
Listen, your name Gerald lets chill with all this Holla
You a athlete with no rap sheet
You ain’t ever clip rounds or bust a zip down, hoe sit down
You ain’t never been in a dope house with dope fiends smoke up
See that thick cloud smell that aroma and almost throw up
You ain’t never had to hustle
Get a pack and swear it came from the border
That shit don’t lock up
You hit the block up and still get it off to the snorters
See I worked all my life so that life you never would see
So when you claim you from the hood that’s disrespectful to me
I married yo mama as a chest move
I ain’t wanna see you get stepped to by some step dude
Yes fool I kept you in the best shoes, put you in the best schools
Stop telling people that the mob is your crew
Cuz when the mob fuck niggas up
Them niggas that they fuck up they only know you
So nigga stop getting on camera saying you popping them guns
Aye Big Gerald! That’s the way you talk to your son
Every time I see yo face I envision a rage
I wanna get me a blade and hit yo chest until it resemble a maze
I tell my niggas promote that choppa that mean give it a raise
And let it get wild like Jerry Springer
Every time he put the niggas on stage
I want him dead, I get him well hunted
12 shooters, 100 round drums this fool done
Run up on Gerald give Mr. full time that full ton
I took this battle for the bread and to get this shit clear
Denzel voice from training day, nigga you just live here, I run shit here!
Ball game!

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