Arsonal vs. T-Rex [Lyrics]

[Round 1: Arsonal]
Before I let y’all know bout how my steel clap
Ultimate Warrior had to have the battle in Newark
Cuz Smack would’ve got his shit peeled back
I ain’t never been a trouble maker, but if Ars left a nigga bleeding
You may wanna investigate Rex cuz it’s definitely a reason
If these ten knuckles can’t stretch this nigga even
I’m on the side of the highway with my gun out
Like I’m trying to catch a nigga speeding
I’m a bully, tell this lil bitch nigga I take porridge
If I see it and I like it, I snatch it, I don’t wait for it
I’m disposing this nigga for one, I hate garbage
And with my aim I should’ve played shooting guard for weight forest
But I chose to rap, I still gangbang and I load the mac
My money long enough to let all my homies hold a stack
Do we have a problem? Soon as you show that gat
I introduce you to that rocket launcher with the shoulder strap
You ain’t a shooter nor a rider, you a chauffeur poodle
You got a vivid imagination, I’m a show ya brutal
This shit I’m dropping got me rich
You gon think I’m flushing Oprah doo doo
I spread cream all on ya bitch, then treat her lips like a toaster strudel
This lil nigga named Randy, I’m banking on his family
Halloween he *knock, knock* then I’m taking all his candy
Walk into ya mom kitchen, tie the apron to ya granny
Chop her up, hide her body in the basement by the pantry
Then I walk in ya studio and slap the shit out of yo engineer
I fire on anybody else who ever try to think or interfere
I hak a lugie on ya mic, that nigga Mook he kinda tight
I walk up to him in his face and ask him do he wanna fight?
You gon think I’m a sketch artist from the way I draw the oozee on him
One shot, instant kill, BANG! Call of Duty on him
Slice him while he fuckin, soon as his bitch put her booty on em
Then iphone Fox walkie talkie call the goonies on ‘em
I’m the villain so I terrorize the people
Kill this nigga first round so we can set aside the sequel
Jowie every lines deceitful, I’ll stab him with Magic Johnson’s tattoo gun
And purposely forget to sterilize the needle
I said I cock glocks, pop pop, blood on ya bed spread
Ya not hot, so stop cock blocking ya dead Fred
Starving niggas like you in my city get fed led
Low cut niggas die in the land of the dread head
Now Ill told you the nigga that robbed you
Wanted to prove that you lame
And you was softer than a Titty Boi, so now he got 2 Chainz
I would’ve said, you see what happen to you trying to be a pretty boy?
Nigga snatched them triple 9’s from you in yo city boy
And the Jesus Piece they tried to pawn it wasn’t worth a penny boy
In the last year Rex was robbed for “2 Chainz!” without Titty Boi
You wanna knuckle up with me? I got that pocket knife
Once you enter ya house, ya front door you better lock it twice
Hundred round clip, awww shit when that choppa slice
Every Dot in ya residence hit, I even shot the mice
You seem shocked that I’m killing you
Like you stuck aluminum foil in a socket twice
My hitman Haitian and he’ll off you for a box of rice
He starving, killing niggas for food, pizza pasta price
What you think he’ll do if I told ‘em that Randy got ya slice?
Bombs in ya mailbox a package full of anthrax
When I fire that heat will melt ya body like some candle wax
I slam, you slam, my gun jam, while I’m slamming back
I’ll slap you with the pistol, you’ll think the pistol had a hand attached
I’m dressed in all black like on that Tom Clancy’s Splinter Cell
You’ll think I fed the clip pasta cuz out the barrel I’ma send him shells
I disrespect you on purpose, I give a fuck who you niggas tell
I piss in ya favorite cup, put ice in it and tell you that it’s ginger ale
And you better drink it and eat the ice when you finished
If not I’ma make sure you meet with ICE when you finished
For playing games with me, you gon lose ya life in a scrimmage
You could be blue tho cuz I’m Popeye coming right off the spinach
You couldn’t beat me if I played you on rookie mode
I’m the type of nigga snatch ya breezy off foot patrol
Tell her my chocolate melt in her mouth not in her hand
And her hand my Tootsie Roll
Then stick my whole arm in her, I Vince Carter that pussy hole
And if you really a male nurse, then you got Gaylord Focker’s job
And being a male nurse is worse than being a soccer mom
I know you don’t wanna rumble in the jumble or the octagon
If we was two coke heads with a kilo to snort
You couldn’t keep up with me line for line
I spelt ya name in all 100’s, waited for you to sign the line
You battled 5,762 niggas after that, still I waited for you to find the time
Yes it was in ya DNA to battle Tech around Ramadan
It was kinda Okwerd how Conceited did you and Ill beat you line for line
I ain’t gon stop till my account whole 8 digits
First round, he small thing to a giant and I motherfuckin’ hate midgets!

[Round 1: T-Rex]

Grown man bars is something he gotta deal with
It don’t matter how many of them fabricated lines he just said
It ain’t gon equal up to this real shit
This nigga moved from Newark to New Orleans
And got the Newark niggas protecting you
That’s 95% of the reason I ain’t got respect for you
So it’s best for you to chill with that “ima slap T-Rex shit”
Cuz it’s hammers on deck and niggas done died for less shit
I’ll have bullets in his stomach, back, legs, hips
And since he got dreads he’s used to getting his head twist
My life is full of extended clips and headshots
Hustling on the corner, who gives a fuck if the feds watch?
You really think we gon believe that you let the lead pop?
When you rap about clarinets and Hulkamania leg drops?
Go ahead swing on me, that’s what you said ock
And I’ma have a red dot on each and every dread lock
My niggas got lead cocked, they thirsty to spray a clip
Find one of his locks (LOX) on the ROC, Jadakiss
You see my patience is not that big
So a nigga to get off on, I’m not that kid
One funny move, I’ma pop ya wig
I got a little Trick Trick that’ll make you forget what a SHOTGUN is
For one, my patience not that big
So a nigga to get off on, I’m not that kid
One funny move and I’ma pop ya wig
I got a little Trick Trick that’ll make you forget what a SHOTGUN is
And that shows that he’s a fake guy
Cuz under no circumstances in the world
I’ma say I don’t know Mook or K-Shine
We all got love for Hip-Hop right? So y’all gon understand me
Well Calicoe took Arsonal out the back
Like Trick Trick was Chrissy and he was Yandi
I’ma make y’all think right
Calicoe kilt him and saved him all in the same night
Took em to the airport, told to have a safe flight
Cuz if Arsonal was at a wedding he wouldn’t swing rice
Play nice before I shoot you in broad daylight
Have red lights all on the back of his car like the brake lights
They think cuz they got me in Newark I’m out of the zone
Long as there’s gangstas in the building I’m a feel I’m at home
I walk around with the clip and the chrome
I take my dog with me to Arsonal grave site to give ‘em his bones
My niggas been warring, it ain’t nothing new
The odds in this so scared he’ll think Trick Trick is my uncle too
We could fight or take to guns, what you wanna do?
My team like the wheelchair league, we roll up and shoot
Ya name don’t ring bells in the Jersey section
You only hang with Shotgun Suge for protection
Ask Surf the night of Summer Madness, I fucked Bella that same night
And you be kissing that bitch in the mouth like that’s ya wife
He just a stupid crip that wanna be blood
Violate me, I beat ‘em until he see blood
Have the Locs lookin like “He knew he wasn’t gonna beat cuz”
I’m who he wanna be, cuz, because, his girl a Rex groupie
HE be on my dick more than she does
I give ‘em 3 slugs, enough to fill 3 lungs, the doctor said
“Arsonal’s crip, now he needs blood”
You like talking bout Red? I do too dog
I’ll have him laying in a puddle of Red with his head blew/blue off
You think I don’t know about gangs cuz I ain’t flaggin?
My niggas said they stay 0-50 and don’t fuck with them red dragons
Different magnums that don’t come in no gold wrapping
Lay-a-way bullets you get the rest on the back end
He wanted war, fuck it, I’ma gun him off
My options is the pen/pin or the gutter, I’m a bowling ball
He can’t beat me, I talk greasy like motor oil
They suspenders, with these two straps I’m shootin’ overall
I kill lames, fronting? He gon feel pain
That 40 have me explaining my story in front of Mills Lane
I’m throwing bullets like a Buffalo Bills game
Them shells will have his train of thought derailed/Darell
Like his real name
I’m going back to Harlem with this nigga dreads
Y’all know my slogan… THIS NIGGA DEAD!

[Round 2: Arsonal]

You lost to Conceited clearly, this I gotta let you know
But ya fanbase will never leave you
It’s like New Yorkers got a special glow
They still give you hugs and kisses, a lot of X and O
Overlook ya asshole mistakes and accept you back
For example just look at Plaxico
Rex you gabbage, that’s a fact well established
And the only Macho Man named Randy was a savage
See the crack that I distribute turn families into addicts
And ya lines ain’t connecting which means ya channels turn to static
Rapping bout 12 12 skinny’s ain’t gon make you a D Boy nigga
It’s 4 elements to hip-hop and you the B Boy nigga
I stab you in ya other ear, I bet it keloid quicker
Now bow down and kiss the chucks like you Leroy nigga!
And sho nuff, you came, you showed up
So I’m gon literally smoke you, no papers, no dutch
I’m gon walk up on ya block with my pack and post up
They like “this Rex corner” I don’t give a fuck and so what!?
I run shit here! You just live here!
Shoot em in his head while his mother and both his kids there
Take em to the hospital in my car, fill out his paper work and sit there
Texting everybody in his phone like
“It was crazy y’all should’ve been there”
We pull triggers, while you Call Of Duty button pressing
Ya 3 minute round wasn’t nothing but a bluffing session
I’ll put a knife hole in ya rib just to neutralize ya lung congestion
Quick blast one shot and yo bitch ass
You’ll think I’m trying to give him a butt injection
My bullets fight to leave the barrel, hollow’s buggin in my gun
So I’ma exercise my trigger til ain’t nothing in my gun
You ain’t nothing but a bum
This gotta be Don’t Be A Menace In South Central
While Drinking Your Juice In The Hood, cuz I’m younger than my son
Surf fucked ya baby mother, got it on camera
You called her and she talk to you about
You bending over and her eating yo ass crack
You could have that, that ain’t even what I’m mad at
You remember I told that faggot nigga Joe Budden
He the male version of Kat Stacks?
Well you remind me of that rat on a snap trap
With the cheese caught in yo backpack
You fag that handle balls in yo backfield, you a half back
Nigga cool out, Rex tell the truth what you know about pulling ya tool out
Having a shootout right in front ya principal soon as he let school out
Tellin ya crew bout a new route and watching ya soldiers move out
You can’t pretend to comprehend my friend so what are you bout?
You can catch me on these worthless streets, purple chucks, purple fleece
Hammer tucked in my waistline my dickies got a perfect crease
Rebel/Devil I make ya nephew smoke ya niece
To keep it all in the family have ya aunt and uncle promote the beef
Puff, Puff, pass with the chrome, I leave that glock smoking
It’s baby locs in this neighborhood so Watts rollin’
One shot in ya temple that’s officially mind blowing
To confirm you deserve you gon die with ya eyes open
That first round wasn’t yours, them his lyrics, ya rhymes stolen
Dick all in her booty at breakfast, I have ya moms moaning
Apes and bananas in that coochie that mean I’m congo’ing
You planking in ya casket face down with ya spine showing
While you out rhyming about pistol playing and pitching coke
Ya bitch probably in the trap house rocking a nigga boat
She spittin on the mic, a soprano don’t never miss a note
She the illest, what you talkin’ bout willis? She got a different stroke
She in that squat position, right hand jerkin, left on the pussy lips
My wood on deck she just waiting to get that pussy hit
I’m grand slamming every hit back, not on no rookie shit
Surf introduced ya baby mom to that gangbang on some Tookie shit
So if I catch you creepin’ on my strip or even speaking of my bitch
I swear to god both these hands will have you leakin from the lip
Ya moms will walk in the living room and find ya brain on ya lap
Her exact words is “I know my son would die from thinking with his dick”
I told you stay the fuck out my business, you still snoopin?
My pill just dropped, I’m retarded, I’m still groovin’
You could have a cavlar Teflon flap jacket with the glock
I’m Dirk Nowitski no matter what defense you brought to Newark tonight
I’m still shootin’
I don’t dance or throw dollars, my shooters is old shottas
357’s, Mac 11’s and them old choppas
Manhattan rappers be traveling round the world
Bullets will alley oop to the clip then bang in every Harlem Globetrotter
Now don’t get me wrong
In Harlem everybody and they momma wanna be a rapper
Ask Jim Jones girl Chrissy, she’ll tell you in Harlem
Everybody and they mama wanna be a rapper
Round here I be Chevy driving steady mobbin with that clapper
357 by em let em try me and I’ll clap ya
I ain’t never seen Redman or Treach get treated like a sucka
But I did see Cam and Jim Jones both get ran out the Rucker
I ain’t ever seen Redman or Treach get treated like a sucka
But I did see Cam and Jim Jones both get ran out the Rucker
I swear to God I put my right hand to the man up above ya
I put the glock down for a second and beat the man out ya mother!
And I gon stop til my account hold 8 digits
You a small thing to a giant and I motherfuckin’ hate midgets!

[Round 2: T-Rex]

Ars, I remember the day that I met you, you was on my dick
Lux let you do a few battles, then you got on some shit
I remember, we was at the Lionz Den, he showed me he was a fan
How he respected my work and wouldn’t let go of my hand
Accept my name at the Tech 9 battle that showed you had respect for me
But couldn’t stand that you wasn’t the man when you stood next to me
Then you put yourself on a level that you ain’t even on
Spelt my name out in some money that wasn’t even yours
Now pause, I ain’t trying to play you Ars
But if Lux put you on that mean a Harlem nigga made you Ars
They been waiting for years to see this
Arsonal against T-Rex, that’s some mean shit
It turn into prom night when them choppers start squeezing
Cuz you gon be in a suit, you get hit with this limousine clip
Shit, I’m thirsty to let a trigger blast
Bullets hit his ass, his blood will be going Twista fast
I’m on that old shit with a new clip and a different mask
Think he came with receipt how I put him in a bag
Niggas block dying once you see them shots flying
Me and him will never be cool, I am not lying
Pussy, you gon swing on who? Ars, try it
To get everything I hear (hair) straight, I use hot-iron
Niggas could’ve left him dead in the D
Fuck I gotta spell it out? You called the DEA in the D
One day I was doing a show and it was me, Web and Jim
We was performing our hit
I look left, I look right, then I looked left again
It was a nigga in the crowd and he was pumping his fist
And it was Arsonal, dancing to some shit that sound like this
*Techno beat boxing*
I said, “they don’t call him Arsonal cuz he got an arsenal full of tools
Ayo Dan, they call him Arsonal cuz he got an arsenal full of moves”
He could break dance, he could boogie, he could groove
He can even do the James Brown shit with his shoes
Fuck him, I leave everybody in his family stretched
Start with brother, moms, aunt and his granny next
No respect, walk up on him and start to air the tech
You send it there with Rex, ya shadow gotta wear a vest
My Illinois land lord niggas say they hate him, he’s goofy
On sight, when they see ‘em they gon spray at his Kufi
Walk up on him, hit em in the face with the oozie
Shoot em over and over and over in the same spot
You’d a think they was taping a movie
Damn, y’all I’m thitsy to leave his camp chalked
The water right in front of his building I’m there/Deer parked
I can’t stand Ars run up and let a can spark
His brain will fly, blood will stain the floor, landmark
It’s Opitmus Prime when I’m poppin’ the nine
Two nickel plates, Arsonal dotted the drop of a dime
Switch that, Optimus Prime when I’m poppin’ the nine
Two nickel plates, Arsonal dotted, I got the drop from his dime
Switch that, Optimus Prime when I’m poppin’ the nine
Two nickel plates, Arsonal died from dropping a dime
He’s supposed to be a gangbanger and banging is the thang you do
If you so much of a gangbanger
Why you always got a blood on stage with you?
Probably cuz this nigga pussy and he let bangers shoot
So when some shit pop off he be the nigga that’s saving you
For K-Shine I’ll ride and pull fo’s out
Keep blowing at a nigga candle until it blows out
He just had a battle in Detroit and got paid
Why the fuck it took Calicoe and Smack to bail Surf out?
Y’all probably ain’t know Calicoe and Smack bailed Surf out
But since we in Newark and they from Newark
That’s something Newark need to know about
He’ll probably ride when it come to that
Ain’t no probably, my niggas gon ride cuz we come with that
The grind, I’m in love with that, the block, I got lust for that
Who wanna pump right now? I’m giving up 40 for a 100 pack
He so soft, he ain’t ever letting chrome off
I give Streetz the head nod, his head will get blown off
Kill Arsonal on the house, that means no cost
We start putting niggas to sleep, we let dose off
Get ya nose out my business or get it blown off
You bout to take a known loss right here in ya home court
Me and you man to man, try to zone off
That fif’ silent you won’t hear it ring like the phone’s off
I said I’m leaving with this nigga’s dreads
It’s only round 2 and this nigga dead!

[Round 3: Arsonal]

We finally in the bricks! South ward is y’all in here?
What the fuck you gon do now, now that I got all of my men here?
See all my battles been away which means none of my rounds been fair
You was fucked at the door soon as the security let you in here
Cuz if you show out, they block exits til there’s no out
Crowd beating yo ass is the only footage to go out
If I hear you say some disrespectful crip shit outta yo mouth
I’m pop on you out the blue you like a tire with a blow out
Running ya mouth talking that tough shit, this ya last night
Retarded strength, beat a nigga slow with a fast right
You never in ya life heard of Ars had a bad fight
Thinking you the shit my nigga you’ll get ya ass wiped
Straight off the face of the earth, I’ma spazz right?
I’m undeniable with that cannon that means I’m dash right
This nigga here, for $100 and a flight
He do all my shootin, he @ThisIsTwizz I guess I’m Smack White
Running ya mouth talking that tough shit, this ya last night
Retarded strength, beat a nigga slow fast right
You never in ya life heard of Ars had a bad fight
Thinking you the shit my nigga you get ya ass wiped
Straight off the face of the earth, I’ma spazz right?
I’m undeniable with that cannon that mean I’m dash right
This nigga here, for $100 and a flight
He do all my shootin, he @ThisIsTwizz I guess I’m Smack White
This nigga think he know Newark cuz he yelled a couple blocks out
Claiming a wrong hood will definitely get you knocked out
It’s real Piru and G Shine niggas in the building
So K-Shine you better watch out, you ain’t official
Set up arrangements for ya moms to pick ya box out
My shooter crazy as hell, she pop niggas with they cock out
She had a baby at 12, bitch was an 8th grade dropout
No gloves to hide her print, she pull a sock out, then pull a glock out
The nose on it longer than the 2011 NBA lockout
Now how dare you come to Newark and actually think you’ll get a win off
I’ll fight you with both hands behind my back
All kicks and guarantee you won’t get a hit off
Cuz soon as we square up and you think you bout to get some shit off
This whole front row gon knock ya motherfuckin wig off
With the gloves I’m a south paw
If you don’t believe me we could find the proof
Twin glocks bust at the same time
I’m ambidextrous when it’s time to shoot
I’ll fuck ya bitch in one position just for thinking I was kinda cute
From the back so much hardcore doggystyle
You gon think that bitch was signed to Snoop
You 5’2”, you don’t scare anybody
You a Talladega Night ass nigga now do the Ricky Bobby
I’ll take you the church up the street where they viewed Whitney body
And let the Boyz N Tha Hood really introduce you to Ricky’s shotty
I’m coast to coast, I’m internationally known
You aren’t, you put 10 years into this battle rap craft, but who’s touring?
If battle rap was the NBA, my nigga you would be Luke Walton
Gangsta’s don’t die, we get chubby and move to New Orleans
And I knew you was gon speak on that, so it’s no holding back
I’m in that 17th ward, Holly Grove where the soldiers at
I move from one city to another where niggas known to scrap
You’ll get Wako’d for skippin up the block by a Juvenile
Cuz everybody in that Nola Clap
I live in a city where public drinking and pistol carrying is legalized
So I don’t pack my mac in the back of my ac, my strap in my hand
I don’t need to hide
I mean I could walk down the block with my shit out, I don’t need to ride
My strap is like you to his shadow, it never leave my side
I could walk in ya son school with it out
Go in his classroom during naptime, wake him out of his sleep like
“Yo ya daddy’s been flatlined
Ya mothers been sucking dick since the Super Bowl at halftime
And I’m only taking custody of you cuz it’s motherfuckin tax time”
Now since everybody that battled you talk about Mook
I’ma switch it up, all that talk about K-Shine, nah, I’ma zip it up
Chyna Ashley, she don’t need a fan base look that bitch big enough
I’ll steal weed off Tay Roc and let all of these niggas hit the dutch
Get it? Listen up, I just broke down the whole Dot Mob
Rex you been in a vet and still ain’t make it in my top 5
Them crip niggas you claim you hang out with, them niggas not live
They false flaggin that meant hey ain’t seeing (C’in) right
That make em cock eyed
I’m crip for real and all of them baby locs do shoot
But watch this if you Blood and you fuck with Da Rebel
My nigga Soo Woo!
It seems to me you gon have a problem when it’s time to go
You seem a lil uncomfortable like it’s hard for you to find ya flow

Let me ask y’all a question, I’m grape street crippin and that’s ok alright
So refer to me as an American Gangster cuz I don’t play fight
And with that .38 I’m Frank Lucas, if you don’t pay right
I’ll shoot tango in the middle of his head in broad daylight
And if I’m lying I’m dying, I ain’t dead so here’s the topic
We was in California, I battled Diz, he battled Okwerdz
This was all around the time when I said when I see ‘em I’ma slap him
Now I’ma tell y’all all the real reason behind why nothin’ happen
I’m in my hotel room I get a knock at my door
Who is it? I’m really not sure
I look thru the peep hole, it’s Louie the 13th that lil Dot Mob whore
I said “what up”, he hesitated, his response was kinda iffy
Ya boy looked over my shoulder
And seen I had them grape niggas with me
I ain’t gon lie I was in Oakland I had 7-8 niggas with me
My money long everywhere I go, you know I take niggas with me
So he said “Ars, Rex wanna holla at you”
I said if he wanna holla, where he at nigga? I’m listening
And why the fuck would Rex send you on this dummy mission?
So I go up to this nigga room, in my mind you know I’m mad as shit
He open the door like “Ars we the only two reppin the east coast
Let’s stick together on this battle shit”
I swear to God on my mother I seen a happy punk jump out his soul
Like a faggot with a bag of dicks
I cock back to slap his lips and I thought to myself
I was raised by a woman
And momma said a man should never slap a bitch
Moral of the story I would’ve felt less than a man if I put my palms to him
So I cock back, I put in her hand and told my mom do him
I said “but he a coke head
So please before you squeeze give that line to ‘em”
But soon as he hit that base line my mom bang on ‘em like Lebron do ‘em
Rex you could talk about my daddy, you could even talk about my mother
Fuck, cuz I’m a disrespectful motherfucker
Which means I can really give a mother-fuck!
That’s just a lack of creativity for ya bars, it’s a coverup
And momma Rebel in the building and she says she’ll fuck yo mother up
We could call ‘em both to the stage
We could have our moms put the gloves on
My moms gon beat shit down yo moms leg
Til she bleedin or it’s blood drawn
And she ain’t gon stop til that account hold 8 digits
Fuck this mic situation y’all know my slogan I motherfuckin hate midgets!
[Round 3: T-Rex]

Yo when I had my son I lost a little bit of love for this battle rap shit
But when my son turned 2 or 3 and you saw my last 2 or 3
You know I’m back bitch
You see these hammers that I’m carrying, they not for show
I let ya whole space ship, I let a rocket go
One by one they’ll be fallin like dominoes
Arsonal death will be in a rush, he gotta go
I fuck with crazy cats, fronting? Get ya lady snatched
Kid too, you need more than ribs to get that baby back
Against Miles I told y’all I was a crazy cat
I’ll murk you, leave town, you don’t know what part of main he at
Fuck slow it down, speed it up, we been saying that
See my niggas don’t play, word, watch ya word play
I could get you KO’d, I give the OK
I cock the old ‘K, cock and aim it yo way
If this nigga acting bugged, that snub will be the roach spray
You see I got a mean shot, but it’s no game
Two tre’s and I’m shooting from Larry Bird range
That story that he just told, he was fronting
He said he was gon slap me when he seen me and did nothing
It turnt to the post office when that clip dumping
I’ll get a mail/male boxed if I send something
You war with Dots we off ya blocks, no valentine
They find his heart in a chocolate box
No fuck the talking ock, I’ll let them 40’s pop
Clap him thru the jacket, I’m like Dirk with them awkward shots
I got the belt and I’m defending mine
When we ride, if kids outside, they meant to die
Once them hollow tips get inside
This nigga meat will start falling off the bone like it’s tenderized
Let’s take it this route, we could let the fif’s out
The person that’s gon die, is the person with the big mouth
Caught em and his broad while he was sleeping at his bitch house
When I blast off, I take half off, I’m trying to make this count (discount)
I’m a vet, I’m not a rookie in the game
I’m schooling niggas, Ars been playing hookie
It’s okay, but if he act up I’ma walk up and hit ‘em with the thing
I be clapping the arm like I’m looking for a vein
I promise I’ll finish his folks, squeeze the lead
Crack his egg, have him spilling his yolk til he dead
Grab the lead and shove the fif down his throat
He got his whole orange peeled, he was beat to a pulp
A nigga like Ars could never ever fuck with me
Cuz all this shit he say, it’ll never equal up to me
My feelings are shot, you feeling a shock and you numb on ya left side
That feeling’s ‘you shot’, nigga laugh when they squeal to the cops
Crazy Arsonal rolling at his funeral, his wheel’s on his box
I been built to flip yay, in 10 days I be choppin’ bricks like a Sensai
Comprehende? Look I told y’all I was coming for this nigga head
I don’t even wanna finish my round but this nigga dead…

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