Arsonal vs. Illmaculate [Lyrics]

[Round 1: Illmaculate]
I seen you on them blogs cousin, doin’ them soft crunches
What you thought youngin’?
This was Rock IV and you that tall Russian, Dolph Lundgren?
You know where I was at when you was shootin’ that stupid ass blog? London
I have his mom cuttin’ raw onions, calling me small as somethin’ long cut him
And turn Paul Bunyan to a small munchkin, it’s nothin’ he saw comin’
You’re past your prime
Did you forget about your last few battles? Fine
MIB memory swipe flash past your eyes
I’ma milk this match up you gettin’ flash pasteurized
Caskets fly you call me under average size, faggot
That is why you’re blacker than them bags you find underneath Dizaster’s eyes
Tryin’ me is feudal
If he think we beefin’, you wanna fire heaters, do you?
I will eat your food, a side of me is cuckoo
Play with me closer than the space between your people Brian Peeples pupils
Dawg, you softer than chai tea
Crossin’ customs let’s you know how fake Arsonal might be
Either his record’s never been charged or wiped clean
Which means you’re not a gangster, cooperated or…Wale let you borrow his ID
You know how I know you’re a weirdo? It shows in your past
Your “I hate midgets” slogan is trash
And that’s why every little person from here to the east coast toasted a glass
When Rex roasted that ass
I mean, I’m surprised you didn’t call your lawyer
Cause watchin’ back when Tech 9’s short ass put that murk on ya
I bet Verne Troyer was somewhere lightin’ herb for ya
The SONS crew lit a blunt too
But watchin’ Rex rip you in your own city son, that was a cherished moment
Even Conceited poured out liquor from his sippy cup in memory of Gary Coleman
And don’t try to tower over me and think you in a dominant position
Like you did against Con’ when you was spittin’
Cause that shit’s hella gay
That just means if he was taller y’all would’ve been kissin’
See, he usually try to bully the smaller cat and that ain’t cool wit me
So it’s time somebody spoke out on behalf of the community
We’ve had enough
What about our height makes you mad as fuck?
Is it cause we can cop some clothes for half as much?
Eat out model hoes standin’ up?
Dawg, there ain’t a height limit for doin’ me
Kinda like how your wife isn’t the cutest breeze
But I’ll still dive in it like Scuba Steve
I hit it for five minutes, when I’m finished I do my thing
Leave her a drive-by victim, get it? Cause I whip it, then shoot and leave
You can call me what you want, I guarantee they’ll always love me
I’m gettin’ Danny DeVito paper and out here in L.A. It’s Always Sunny
Speakin’ of Danny DeVito, the fuckin’ thing that’s funny
Is I took a Taxi to this Heist, like, “Fuck it, keep it running.”
My business in L.A. is Confidential cause I’m leavin’ with Other People’s Money
And if you didn’t get the reference, huh, it’s cause his slogan doesn’t fit his record
It’s all a misdirection
I can give you a history lesson on how he’s a little jealous
No, not as an amount, as in people, he’s “little jealous”
Between Tech, Conceited, Rex and me, the shit’s pathetic
This is your intervention, it’s time you went and said it
Admit it Durrell, you’re 24 and have a motherfuckin’ midget fetish

[Round 1: Arsonal]
One word: Grizzlemania
First time I ever seen a nigga die twice in the same night
I seen Con’ kick yo’ ass then Hollow stomp you with the same Nike’s
What your fan’s expect from you? We can look and see that you can’t fight
You just a freckled face cracker tryin’ to convince people you ain’t white
Hollow left you hollow, you caught a bullet from a lame Don
The Saurus ain’t write your rhymes that night I guess that’s why they ain’t rhyme
The witness seen two midgets fighting until one died so they blamed Con’
That’s double jeopardy
Meaning Hollow couldn’t go to jail for that murder or tired again for that same crime
I bang mine, claim mine, throw up my gang sign
I beat you with the gun and bust you both at the same time
Partna, I’ve been a Rasta before the dreads had hangtime
Remember that pistol whip that hand attached well I’ma smack ‘Mac with the same nine
You play cop, you get Charlie Clip/Tay Roc’d
I say Aak, you faker than that tooth DNA got
If this was Oakland I would’ve killed Greg, David Hasselhoff, Carmen Electra, Pamela and her son (Anderson) and made the whole Bay watch (Baywatch)
Ski mask over my dreads give him a face shot
Razor blade draw on his chest, sketch him a tank top
He run to the interrogation room and try to name drop
I’ll beat you til your blood evaporate into a raindrop
Look into the eyes of that barrel you see that shit you facin’?
If I let that shit hit you it’s gon leave all of yo’ tissues achin’
My goons will come abduct you out yo’ sleep, I could get you taken
Even that iPhone bitch Siri couldn’t direct you out that situation
I stay flag, cop a gray Mag’, I let a burner shoot
He like a gray mag, well that’s chrome, you never heard of duke?
You talk while I’m rappin’ I’ma murder you, fuck a gray mag
I’ll pull out that Ray Swag and make him do the same thing to you that he did to Murda Mook
Now do we have a problem? I ain’t think so
Left eye in that scope and my sniper rifle don’t blink slow
Precision with the vision, my mission is to send three slow
But he G5 when it’s beef meaning [?] he Tim Tebow
You play the night shift you get pulled over by them black cops
They gon’ place the drugs on you and swear that you had them crack rocks
It’ll be a night you won’t forget ‘Mac that stop on that back block
Since you up zombie hours they gon’ treat you like it’s Black Ops
You gon’ need a Predator Missile in the air faggot
[?] chill the Delta Squad and a care package
Cause when you see the shit I’m spittin’, you gon’ think you on Scare Tactics
And when it hit you instead of “Wooo!” you sayin’, “Ooow” that’s the Ric Flair backwards
I flare ‘matics ’til there’s blood all over their jackets
Police arrive to find three midgets dead on a air matress
You, Con’ and Rex, I killed you, Con’ and Rex
At this point in the battle y’all should already know what two lines is next
I ain’t gon’ stop until my account hold eight digits
You a small thing to a giant and I motherfuckin’ hate midgets
Now, I’ma give y’all somethin’ to reminisce about
When God made him, The Saurus, Pat Stay, Hollohan, Hitman and Aye Verb that’s when He really brought the bitches out
Cause real niggas that’s real niggas might scrap to settle they difference out
But real niggas don’t stand face to face for a crowd to put each other’s business out
You’ll never O-Red battle Surf or Surf battle Suge or see Suge battle me, cause we don’t do that in the hood
If we got problems we can squash ’em by quickly shootin’ the three
Y’all lack loyalty and R.E.S.P.E.C.T
If it wasn’t for The Saurus spillin’ the beans I would’ve never knew that he wrote your raps
If it wasn’t for Hollohan bein’ a fiend I prolly would’ve did worse with Pat
Cause I swear on my dead dog them niggas must’ve been smokin’ crack
Hollohan called me on speaker and told Pat Stay to rehearse his raps
So everything that man spit to me I heard in advance
I’m disturbed by your camps and Hitman thought Verb was his man
If it wasn’t for Verb I would’ve never knew Hollohan baby mother be jerkin’ him off
If it wasn’t for Hitman I would’ve never knew Aye Verb really worked in the mall
See where I’m from, cops get shot it’s no purpose for y’all
But we do abide by hood rules and all six of y’all faggots have broken the law
Y’all niggas quick to let y’all mouth run
We don’t do that in the south son
Cause protective custody or the graveyard is the outcome
I see your name is Illmac’ but you know nothin’ ’bout one
I got an iller MAC-90 I wanna see if you can outrun
You doofy and wouldn’t shoot me if I was a basketball
I’ll show up to your funeral gravesite just to see the casket fall
After all y’all got me battlin’ a wanna-be Asher Roth
After this battle, don’t worry I’m a resurrect into Canibus just to finish Dizaster off

[Round 2: Illmaculate]
I’ll reverse this motherfucker’s birthday
The whole part of your round…if it was Loyalty Over Money our battle wouldn’t have been delayed in the fuckin’ first place

That was cool

No it wasn’t, shut the fuck up
This is my round, why are you speakin’ in it?
This is the hottest verse of the battle and you just wanna be featured in it
I wish I could tell you this a thousand times, fuck your feelings
I’ll pull out your spinal
Watch your blood boil with formaldehyde in a rusted skillet
Now your life’s in a downward spiral like a double helix
Look, I’ll life your soul, put you in a hole, let the shovel dig it
Listen hoe, I really hope that clip is holdin’ double digits
Cause everything you rap, got strings attached like the Muppet’s Christmas
You sing and dance up on Twitter with your fuckin’ bitch like, “hugs and kisses”
And everyone that witnesses is fuckin’ disgusted with it
Real shit, let me reiterate this
Picture him and his bitch exchangin’ kissy faces on each other Twitter pages
Cute, this little Grape’s a fruit
Which y’all critics say is intimidatin’, but to me is just a dinner plate of food
Welcome to the west coast where Okwerdz obliterated you
Disrespected everybody in your state, spit in your face and you didn’t make a move
Funny how the biggest fake in the room is the first to instigate a fued
But fuckin’ with me? You lit a flamin’ fuse with incinerator fuel
I give your brain a visual and illustrate for you
Different angles til every angle fired at me…ricochets and splits that lil’ picture frame in two
Dawg, I’ll ventilate his roof cause his image ain’t the truth
You center stage in a fit of rage like you’ll lift it, aim, and shoot
And that’s entertainin’ too
But it’s a shame you couldn’t stand the site of your own reflection in that nickle plated tomb
Tell the truth, prison ain’t for you
You ain’t a killer, consider the levels you really willin’ to take it to
That ain’t you
You’re really a gracious dude, an honest adult, responsible for a lot of children’s way to school
And that’s cool
I know it isn’t breakin’ news, but I’m confused
He ain’t a beast he’s a BZ tryin’ to play the role
True or false? Talkin’ greasy about URL got you punked by Beasley on the radio
Youtube it y’all
See, he wanted a confrontation like they would bow down to him
End of the conversation you was givin’ shout outs to him
I don’t know why he won’t shut it? He always poppin’ at the mouth
But bet if he saw Joe Budden tonight he’d be quiet as a Mouse
Aye, but he be on that Crip shit; yeah
Til he see Trick Trick; nah
Then all that bang bang came click click
Empty fifth clip made him shit Bricks; tisk tisk
Provoking street action only exposed your weak backing like a slipped disc
That’s some bitch shit
What happened against Calicoe? You didn’t have your gangster prepared?
You sure as hell wasn’t bangin’, throwin’ up what you claim in the air
You were pacing, covering your face with your hair
No matter what you was sayin’ on the stage when you’re there the translation from your body language was sayin’ you’re scared
That’s when we caught a glimpse of what his fake ass like
Cause if that was me I would’ve…talked my way out of it to, ain’t that right?
But see, I don’t have to, I’m comfortable where I lay at night
Cause at the end of the day I keep it real and I don’t claim that life
Every battle he take the same route
All that false flagging while you rap and shit is played out
Durrell is as fake as a nail break, I’ll slap him and leave him face down
Cause even if his words held weight…that glass jaw would shatter before they came out

[Round 2: Arsonal]
That shit was corny
Stop actin’ like you the one that made Portland great
Oregon is an enormous state but I’ll treat that gorgeous place like Dirk did last year first round of the playoffs and shoot in Portland’s face
Niggas click that Youtube link to see me rock
Talkin’ ’bout guns drawn, heat cocked
Point it at your temple as I’m fingerin’ that G spot
You ain’t never been in no jail cell, sober mind detox
And the only way to make music is use your chest as a beatbox
Cause you a pig and I be cuttin’ ham (Cunningham) like Randall
I’ll fuck you up all kicks while rockin’ Passion Of Christ sandals
What if I grip a gauge, my bullets ricochet they hit your fade now your life’s cancelled
But then I grip the blade, my palm will stab each bullet wound with the knife handle
See I’m an instigator
I’ll plug your uncle breathing tubes into a generator before I pull the plug on his defibulator
Then tell your little sister I’ma get you later
Play surgeon and have her large intestine sittin’ in the back of yo’ refrigerator
You strange, and your lyrical content is on 2 Chainz
Real Sandpeople live under the dirt like Hussein
You lame cause you been battlin’ ten years but you still a new name
You couldn’t kick it with me if you stole the sneakers and the shoe strings off of Liu Kang
And if you disrespect my set you get yo’ ass beat by two gangs
Right now I’m in the mood to hook this nigga, that’s a mood swing (Moodswangz)
Brass knuckles on the right, on the left five mood rings
We Grape Street oow oww gang, nigga that’s how I do thangs
Bitches love me cause I’m a tall dark nigga
And I get ’round $5,000 to battle that’s a ballpark figure
Illmac’, what’ll you do after that sawed off hit ya?
Every bone in yo’ body gotta get sawed off witcha
Ooh, Loyalty Over Money, fuck it, money was the motive and my object is “just get it”
For that I’ll shove you in the oven like that Project X midget
Your new bitch seen my dick said, “I’ma try my best wit’ it”
She couldn’t fit it down her throat so your wide neck ex did it
Now pay attention, since you mentioned it
Right now, is when shit hits the fan
I will dismiss ya fans, I will big dick ya gram’
Think you Trick Trick, I’ma whip quick, click click then blam
And as I put the pistol to ya head I’ll Twit pic; Instagram
I can’t wait til ya daddy dies so I can say that I’m happy ya father left
I ain’t get convicted for the murder but shit I’m the one who caused his death
I was just waitin’ til they embalmed him and laid his body in that coffin fresh
To walk down the aisle and kick his motherfuckin’ casket down the alter steps
Cause that nigga was a punk meanin’ yo’ son gon’ be a sissy
Say somethin’ and watch that barrel start smokin’ like a hippy
Red dot on your Adam’s Apple get mistaken for a hicky
I’ll stomp him with construction til he all the way under my Timberland’s (Timbaland) like Missy
I drink lean outta sippy’s, chew spleens and kidneys
No jeans just dickies, flagged up with that blicky
Catch ‘Mac on that back block like Blood caught Ricky
Load the clip until it’s full then I’ma squeeze it til it’s empty
Now, this a mismatch, this ain’t black against white
This 6’1″ against against one who is lackin’ in height
This dope dealer versus broke nigga
Big wheel against fo’ wheeler
Panda against gorilla
Mid 20’s against old nigga
You the battle rap ghost figure
Con’ and Hollow already killed you, you ain’t even here
This ya hologram, you like 2Pac at Coachilla
Or, how you say it? Coachilla? Coachella
Okay, Coachilla/Coachella, bitch you should’ve known better
I’m the wrong artist to come to for world peace and you knew that before I met ya
Hold up, y’all ain’t get that, listen to how I put it together
I said, Coachilla or Coachella, ya bitch should’ve known better
I’m the wrong (Ron) Artess to come to World Peace but you knew that before I Metta
Now y’all see how easy it was for me to put that shit together?
You a push over who get looked over, a Foot Solider workin’ for the Shredder
Now we all know Peter Piper picked a pack of pickled peppers, right?
But in yo’ case your boy Peter piped ya purposely and bust ya pressure pipes
Now how I’m suppose to paint that picture, that’s a perfect pressure, right?
Time nigga!

[Round 3: Illmaculate]
What’s funny, is I’ll smack this bitch
Say my name’s Illmaculate, Metta World Peace? Then give him the elbow and act like it’s on accident

That was ass

That was ass? But you still ain’t in my battle class
I’ll smack his ass
Look, aye, every battle of yours gets a million views, right
Yeah? Yeah? Give me mine back
I would be impressed but two bitches shittin’ on each other in a cup got like 50 times that
So while this dude is braggin’ ’bout all them views he bringin’
Keep in mind, four times as many people are viewing Jaylen goin’ super Saiyan
I could give a fuck if every battle of yours goes viral
That just means you got a million stupid motherfuckers to cosign you
Aye, I’ma be really honest
I ain’t buyin’ all this shit he talkin’…shut the fuck up
I ain’t buyin’ all this shit he talkin’ because, aye, when that beef is really poppin’
It’s like Em’ and Dre was him in a conflict the way he gets a Guilty Conscious
Like, meet Durrell, who after a URL battle event
Walks in on a rival battle MC having sex with his broad
Hold up stop, before you walk in the door of the second floor
Hotel room and see Rex fuckin’ ya whore you better think of the consequence
Who are you?
I’m your motherfuckin’ lack of confidence
That’s non-sense, go in gaffle the midget and run to one of your homie’s crib
But what if he ain’t fuckin’ her?
C’mon you know he is
Just think about it before you walk in that door first
But picture that short Smurf liftin’ ya whore’s skirt
Bitch, you are sweeter than a fresh fruit stand
And back when Canibus was asking “Can I Bus”?
You know what his response was?
Errr, shhht, “Yes you can!”
I still use his own momentum against him
There’s no better position to use his own momentum against him
Aye, aye, he’s aggressive and loud
But I got my head in the clouds
You can’t get to me now
You pretend to be a predator let him have it, have a hot headed again and I turn that temperature down
Aye, aye, he’s aggressive and loud
But I got my head in the clouds
You can’t get to me now
You pretend to be a predator let him have it, have a hot headed again and I turn that temperature down
Aye, shut the fuck this is my round why are you speakin’ in it?
You’re just mad cause this the hottest verse of the battle and he just wants to be featured in it
It’s cool, it’s cool

You got your raps?

I didn’t forget my raps, shut the fuck before I twist ya cap
Aye, aye, it’s cool

Aye go ‘head, aye man go ‘head

Nah, nah, nah, nah look
Nah, we ain’t finished cause you know it doesn’t matter
When I come with that PX3
And you know that PSG got that straight silent sound when I end inside a round
It doesn’t matter cause you know I still spit it real
And this is the motherfuckin’ real Durrell
Shake as hell when I still give ya boys bend
Shout out to all my motherfuckers Organik and Poison Pen
Let’s go

[Round 3: Arsonal]
You’re right, I did go to Detroit and a nigga named Trick Trick did say I said I ain’t know Suge
But on the set that wasn’t the case Illmac’ and I put that on my whole hood
I had Blood niggas with me, I had Crip niggas with me
Make a long story short, there wasn’t no bitch niggas wit me
Niggas ran up to the stage while I’m rappin’ and that’s corny
And I still managed to leave Detroit without a scratch on me
Now this where my disrespectful shit needs to stop
They ain’t know you was adopted and you still anxious to meet ya pops
So I went on found ’em, told him I’d fly him out here so he can watch
Just so I could do you like a the Grape Street handshake, pop, pop, pop
Give you three up top
I’ll run in ya foster home, kidnap ya foster parents
Shoot ya fake father in face, beat the shit out ya daughter parent
Try to convict me for the crime, I ain’t gon’ show up to the court appearance
Cause I just killed this nigga in his hood for no reason
Now his folks can relate to Trayvon Martin parents
When I run up on you nigga don’t flex
I’ma cut you at the waist, peel ya skin over ya head, tie it in a knot and make you suffocate in ya own flesh
Show up to ya funeral, hug ya moms and tell her don’t stress
And while she cryin’ on my shoulder I’ma reach in her purse and steal her iPhone S
You stupid, and I’ll explain ya stupidity in a breakdown
You the only battle rapper to come to a gun fight with a knife on a playground
You the only battle rapper with orange facial hair and say now
Battlin’ Arsonal is committing suicide, Junior Seau
I’m self made with a flawless unique rhyme scheme
My shooter hit his target more than Dirk against Lebron team
Ya biggest chopper still don’t compare to what I’ve seen
100 shot extended clip, the laser is lime green
You hit the stand and try to testify?
Soon as I hear some shit slurred, sniper pull the trigger, you ain’t gon’ make it past the fifth word
That Desert Eagle real chunky, whoop, with no relations to Big Bird
A shoulder shot to paralyze or I’m damagin’ 36 nerds
Ya clock tickin’ when it’s beef my block pickin’
I got the long nose Glock and it’s competing with Scott Pippen
And when that long nose pop I just say it’s the snot drippin’
Everything red on the scene but the beam, the dot different
Hold up…look at him, then back to me
Now you once said “Bring an Old Spice to any ad you seen
And I’ll bring out the Ax cause I’m a Brute when I’m Armed & Hammered if we take it to that Degree”
Since you deodorizing niggas, I see you care about your hygiene
But you dirty nigga, I’m clean
Y’all pay attention to this rhyme scheme
If I have to Dial, my bitch Ivory, oh Ivory that’s my Irish thing
But if I have to Dial my bitch Ivory, he interrupt her first day of her Irish Spring
You gon’ need a Safe Guard for protection whenever she let that iron ring
Her record Zest’fully clean and she’s a diva who’s wildin’
If I really want off with yo’ head all I do is leave her (Lever) $2000
They always askin’, “If you Crip why you hang out with this Blood guy?”
That’s my brother and he the shooter
After this battle I bet you see Dove’s fly
Y’all thought I was gonna come to L.A. with a whole lot of jokes
Well I sure (Shore) just washed this dirty nigga up with a whole lot of soap
You look like the type to sniff a whole lot of coke
You could pass for a spic who stuck to America on a whole lot of boats
I bet you got a Jewish grandma who sucked a load out the Pope
I’ll Shao Khan him, reach in his mouth and snatch his soul out his throat
Now being president of Grind Time North West division, really had his head swollen
First round draft pick e’rybody think that Greg’s golden
But Greg never performed nor has Greg shown ’em
That he belongs in Oregon so Portland is wavin’ his wavin’ his contract he Greg Oden
I box and you ’bout to be simply assaulted
You couldn’t beat me with Ray J’s one wish, Aladdin’s genie and his carpet
Your bitch wanted to meet me that’s awkward
She’s like, “Hi, I’m Illmac’s girl.” I said, “Bitch, I’ll melt in ya mouth and not in your hands. I’m chocolate.”
At that time we started talkin’
We get to the apartment, stop walkin’ she whispered in my ear she said, “This is what’s important.”
She said, “I love being assaulted and I love black [?] cocks
At this one time at band camp I stuck a flute into my thought box.”
I said, “Damn bitch. Me, I’m from the school of the hard knocks
Where gun shots was alarm clocks.” Gave that bitch a jaw shot and made her suck the medicine out my cough drop
She had a no gag reflex, when she deep throat she hold cock
I say she freestylin’ when she come up for air cause she love to spit it off top
And you stuck your third leg in that groupie
Let off an egg in that coochie
Then you had to Meet The Parents
Fucked up thing is even the Gaylord name was Greg in that movie
And if Organik ain’t give me my money when I wanted it
I was gon’ kill you and him, I’m Big Worm shootin’ at Craig with that Uzi

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