Daylyt vs. Philly Swain [Lyrics]

[Round 1: Daylyt]

My return to this rap shit, I been pondering quite thinking
Should I retire cuz y’all done seen enough of them light spankings
Well let’s get straight to them gun lines
I’ll lay everybody out flat when I’m gunning it’s like planking
I’ll Michael Jack son, put you under a white blanket
Daylyt, son too real, my guns do peel, block monsters
Whoever come thru kill, we’ll chrome ya whole head
My address is 122 South Guns Drew Hill
Chill, you a bomb pillar? Y’all killers? Nah nigga
Really Jake, ya whole city fake, you Godzilla
Hot triggers, bring them trucks around here
Everybody in that Nissan dead
Ya moms, ya pops, ya aunt, niece, son, dead
Got the Tommy’s for you rats, Jerry, I thunder curls
You must be nuts, like can thugs I gun you squirrels
Wolfing, bring than van by here (Vampire)
My bloods will put you under-world, wins, none you girls
You’ll get knocked the fuck out like it’s Debo guarding
3 or 4 scar ya cheek, throat pardon
You get that one cut then the fights over
I don’t care if you had Neo sparring
Punches THUNDER but I need no HARDEN for you fanny pack guys
Hand over that will/wheel or get that chair like the handicap sign
Pardon me, I’m snapping like a ghetto chick
Iron to your tee/tea, the kettle’s lit
Glocks will leave you see thru in the ocean, get a box, jellyfish
He ever snitched? Guarantee he better ditch
You said killing quenches ya thirst? You riding?
Nigga all ya shots see air and miss (Sierra Mist)
I cherish this, as far as that fair fight, sorry bro, no fade
It’ll be more bullets flying and ghost turning than the Mario boat stage
I’m so raged cuz these bitch niggas trying to bite my style
Well as far as the battle go, I’m really feeling like I got this one
Fuck what you talking bout! Remember that phrase?
You win some and you lose some, but ya live to see another Day
Well not this one!

[Round 2: Daylyt]

I feel like this is your championship, but I’m on a scary spurt
So everybody I’m watching Horry
Nowadays battling is like the projects, everybody got a story
That bored/board me but no ballin’ on the hard floor
No securities so what you put up the guard for?
You would/wood get ooh’s but you the reason why the card-board/bored
I’m a force in this star wars, draw fours if the birdy steppin’
Steel past his skin I kill half his men like 30 seconds
Heard he reppin’ chicken scurred jump ‘em til they wrapped his sheets
Kickin, ain’t seen this much birds stumping since happy feet
You cats is street but fall flat with beef flying
You pussies out of control? I charge cats the fee lines (felines)
Ya street riding? I’m more gutter than a crackhead bunch
I’ll give ‘em more dots than a Pacman lunch
Click cals, you gon see a big “POW!” it look like an old Batman punch
Punk imagine you try and swing fast, get ya whole team clashed
Just for thinking you ready to rumble, you’ll get a dream-cast
Spleen smashed, dying good, squeeze metal I wish the iron would
Tellin’ all them stories, I’ma leave you a little red for writing hood
I’m hood, I hurt niggas, no in my hood I murk niggas
Straight suit to the dirt niggas
Can’t shoot, little man get his face blew/blue, I Smurf niggas
This is work nigga, best to get with this shit or get you bitches buried
I could bring death in this shit (definition) without that dictionary
Scary? Nah, I flare and the techs spray
Y’all type niggas get bucked and squares get left red
Chest spread, break his heart, put a dot on top of ya eye/”i”
Turn you upside down, now what’s ya explanation/exclamation… MARK!

[Round 3: Daylyt]

Is it them hard dreams? Nah it’s 10 shells spray if I spark that Ruger
It ain’t funny, but I’ll give ‘em L-K’s no Martin Luther
Cold bruh man, four fifth, Tommy, one shot the pumps yours
Give ya peep holes, but it’s not at the front door
Stunt boy and them shells sticking
It’s hells kitchen if you quails pitching
I K G’s, ya whole team will need that Doc if them sales ticking (Celtics)
Frail kitten out with that saddest scream
More metal than a Knight but it ain’t that Glady’s scene
He better tell that bitch to bounce or else
That Tramp will lean (trampoline)
I mean, I got that tool nigga, you better move nigga
Before I put you down to earth like a cool nigga
I triple ace niggas, make shit ooze out this guy’s face
All ya friends will get hit with that Tom
If they don’t move out of My-space
We go Bombay so get out of a don way
Play Debo get hit with the big eagle/ego like Beyonce
Nine’s spray, god’s light, I’ll fire like I ain’t do my job right
They say who the G’s? Us like we came out of God’s wife
Watts, I could tell you that it’s war, them claps city streets
You and ya man get turned into ghosts
That’s just a pair of normal activities (Paranormal activity)
I ate him for the cash, debit card, you never can pitch my lose
Any opponent get turned into Ash so whoever they pick, I chew (Pikachu)
This shit ain’t cool, they calling me like 10/4
Get low like a limbo, please, I’m Homer in the breeze how I win dough
Spit so hot so it’s whoever they stood in
Mark, they said you can’t win bills cuz b (Bill Cosby) too nice
And he put in work
Pull up to this jerk street, he hollering when I sent them hollows in
Will be waving more arms than a Hitler following
See that clip? Don’t bother it
You’ll get beat down before you get to spray
Spark, put something in ya heart, you Michel’le
Quick to play, I get paid per view, so get this live
Ya whole block will go out of space if I give ya District 9’s
Now the stats show that a few comments saying I rap slow
This for all them niggas that’s doubting I like flow
In fact, I hate you, I will mask and tape you, pat then scrape you
Dash, case you, blast his face thru, plastic tables, past the staples
I will drastic state you casket slate you, pastor wait you
Ashes vase you, smash the vase too, you got dough?
Them stacks is vague too, you got a maybach? Yeah after April
I’m rich bitch, Paris Hil, flair the steal if you air, I kill
Ya whole circle will get boxes, you’re a Ferris Wheel
Tell them Parrots chill, that ain’t something that real crooks say
You a Street Fighter? Nigga you Vega
You got metal in ya arms, but you still look gay
My hand got ‘em, leg shot ‘em, guaranteed there’s gon be leg problems
Beam ya, Trina ain’t the only one with a red bottom
Yeah I got ‘em, I really feel like I got this one
Remember that phrase? Ya win some and ya lose some
But ya live to see another Day… well not this one

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