Pat Stay vs. Head I.C.E. [Lyrics]

[Round 1: Head ICE]

I came here to break dinner with niggas
I’m a wolf, I share the corpse when I finish a spitter
They said Pat Stay, I said Pat’s great
Find me on the couch in the house of where Pat stay
Fix me a dinner bitch, I want Pat’s plate
Waiting for your ass to come home so I could wax Stay
She nervous, she tellin me yo he cross-dress
Ain’t nothing bout him threatening at all
Don’t wanna hear that, where the bear (beer) at
‘Cause now he got to step in the woods to get his dear (deer) back
Rappers don’t be talking my talk unless they air that
So you say you walking that walk, to me it’s Airmax (air mac’s
Tired of waiting so I shot her
They’ll tell you how many times at the doctor
Pull your heart out your boxers
Man up, I’ll put you down like a boxer
So you’re slipping now you’re caught nigga
Get your issue, you tried dissin a New York nigga
You bra-strap, come to that combat
Pair of titties for ballsack, I’ll blow off your ballcap
Hollohan’ll get shot with you
Armed criminal, laid them down with a cop issue
I’m on your block with the rock movin’
Tellin’ niggas how we survive all those cop shootings
He tellin’ suckas he sucka free
They catch a tantrum and first thing he do, suck his teeth
Your bars wack, fuck if you like
I sock brother then box cutter, fuck up his height
When you rap, you sound my color, fuck all the hype
Till I look you into your eyes like we nothing alike
So Pat here, pap smear
Niggas ain’t checking for pussy that got dad’s beards
You the laughing stock
Wouldn’t respect you if you had a flag or you rap like Pac
Was all good til them buyers came in and that last laugh
Was that last blast and left that lobby painted
Runnin through grass, trash, glass, givin stacks to cabs
And get back where I be hangin’
Me and my gun been through so much shit together, potty training
I said but wait, let me see that moonwalk
If I was the Halifax hockey coach, I’ll sick my goon on you
Then tell him to moon on you
ICE!

[Round 1: Pat Stay]

Since that shit I said against Marv and The Saurus
Y’all gave me a bad name
They say I’m a shock value rapper now
But they don’t know the biography of Pat Stay
See I have autistic family as well and my father’s on his last legs
My homie just got murdered too, they popped him with his back swayed
But I guess I’m the bad guy now so my opponent’s be on some hero shit
I’m already set up to lose so fuck it, I say what I want, I ain’t scared of shit
You playin russian roulette with a gun to your head, watch the barrel spin
Pat Stay, Bruce B’s last bang through a collapsed vein
Let the hero win (heroin)
See everyone went soft since then
In the crowd lookin’ like they just lost a friend
Scared to react to my shit
So they stand there like a bitch and just nod their heads
Thesaurus didn’t care bout them father lines, why the hell y’all upset?
Autistic people see me in the streets
Snd be like “rethpect dawg, rethpect!”
I’m that Scotian lion, a cobra bitin
The East Coast giant, you can’t stone Goliath
Kobe Bryant in the quarterfinals with no one by him and he’s on fire
So bright you’d think my brain had ultraviolet bulbs inside it
Somali pirate, get your fucking boat off my island
Bow on my side, I’d close one eye *fwwwp* you’re floating beside it
A storm is arising, the planets formed an alignment
You’re in the eye of a hurricane twirling inside it
Boom! You hit the ground at a vertical spiral
Barbarian, I skin wolves and rock their fur for survival
Yeah, give me that eye contact
‘Fore I contact with your eyeball like an eye-contact
Time bomb wrapped around you like a python
When my watch tap, your Head explode, put some I.C.E. on that
Boom!

[Round 2: Head ICE]

Pat you gon do what outside the flat screen?
Pat, you half a fag and half a drag queen
I smack both tonsils down your neck
Use my soles, it’ll look like Bronchos hit your chest
You ain’t never catch a body, what you frontin’ for?
Just lookin’ like a body, keep that frontin’ on
You probably feelin’ like you safe but I doubt that
By time Organik say “Ice, chill” I’m on my house Jack
Probably tellin’ Loaded Lux I had to body something
He was comin at my moms, I hit the Gotti button
Bare hand kills but look like shotty’s touched him
How I’m supposed to let Pat live if my daddy wouldn’t?
We off that, your two carriers one pitcher and the lookout, I ball stack
You lookin like dinner with new silverware, fork that
Feel your flow is fine wine
That’s why you shake like a Moscato bottle, cork that
If y’all forget about the ransom money
And they never get they boss back, I put that on Devon Stone
For every nigga you gave head and bone
When every bullet fled the chrome
There’ll be nothing but empty Pepsi cans left
From when you and Hollohan be getting stoned
He mad right now
He ready to take off both earrings and stop being a fag right now
You look like your dad right now
I bet you still lose to Swave Sevah’s pops in a flash right now
Dumb shit you say, I’m still a man behind those bars, the Metula way
I would ask for more rounds but he’ll get outclassed and pussed out
The Zab Juda way
So somebody tell this hash brown that if he class clown
He shouldn’t play grounds around this school today
And tell Peter, your punk brother
He more than nuts for asking about me, he cum-colored
ICE!

[Round 2: Pat Stay]

This is a death match, no submission, Forrest Griffin versus Otis Nixon
Ice, blast a motherfucker for a bucket of boneless chicken – spiced
For that suicide sauce he’d go to prison – for life
When waitresses bring him teriyaki, he kills them – nice
He’s that old man in the hood who always got a fuckin’ story to tell
Boring as hell, “yeah I used to drink 40’s in jail
I’m like an animal, I was actually born with a tail
You think you got it bad, my beds are wooden board with nails”
He says him and all the murderers had a mutual respect in jail
They used to play musical electric chairs
But to cross the border you can’t have a scratch on your record
So if all your stories are true, I gotta ask you a question
If you’s a felon, I like to know how you got yourself here
Oh you must have jumped in one of your big ass guns
And just fucking shot yourself here
I mean it’s just weird
He gets charged with a felon but his record is crystal clear
It’s like he slipped and dropped in quicksand
He fell and he (felony) disappear
Ice is the biggest snitch in the game
If he gets caught the whole block gets arrested
Not even stressin, they’ll have the charges against him drop in a second
This man got caught with possession, assault with a weapon
Shot a detective, Officer Jenkins
Stomped him to death, chopped off his head, left his body in segments
Walked in court, calm and collected, said “I taught him a lesson”
The judge asked if he at least brought a defendant
He said, “No, absolutely not your Honor, I meant it”
In fact he didn’t call him honor, he called him a faggot
Judge caught him in bed with his wife
And asked him if he wanted some breakfast
They played WWF music in court when he walks thru the entrance
He bounces like The Rock when he steps in
And does a Tatanka impression
You ever turn your back on me homie, I’ll be knockin you senseless
That’d be normal, he has been in prison, he’s just hopping in position
And you say I smoked a rock? Yeah I do know what that’s like
I’ll cremate your body and put your ashes on my crack pipe

[Round 3: Head ICE]

You too soft to talk street shit, but wanna be hard
Sniff coke, crack jokes, and yell “I wanna be loved”
Dark side, mark wide, knowing that you care being soft, the heart kind
You can hear cap guns bust and you horse-fly
So beef if Pat’s in one then more dies
Bad enough, he ain’t trigger bangin’
So if you ridin’ and you dyin’ for all the shit he sayin’
Square-feet you dead meat in the situation
I’m that bold, I’ll Mac Moller that shit you paintin’
Punk pussy, I should’ve spit woody
Tell your bitch I said fuck her, eat a dick with it
And she cut like a man, you probably arm wrestle
May the best man win, you two’s an odd couple
Hope you die with your hand on her dick
And she die with her hand on your tits
That type of odd couple, fuck boy, your butt moist
You wave your arm in the air to sound the truck noise
You’ll get chased in my hood, I put money on it
Just for steppin’ in them Esco jeans
With your spandex shirt like, “let’s go eat”
And some open toes slippers and them two earrings
I’m bonafide Pat nigga, I more than ride
Bitch I park and walk to a homicide, G’d up
Them weed blunts gon have nothin’ left but your timbs, tree stumps
See now I got the groove on ‘em
Three-piece type of swag with the shoes on ‘em
Mike Jack in his past, Montana for the cash
JC type of dance how I move on ‘em
Broke, but my house rich, so I put on the gun before a outfit
Still listen to Pun and some of Styles shit
Before I run in the crib, no cat and mouse shit
Now pardon my back, strut my shoulders
Somebody tell the boss this what I does to dojas
Pound of weed, he on the road to closure
And I’m ‘bout to fuck a bitch out of Nova Scotia
I put the head of my dick inside your Kool-Aid
Cuz you was pussy before your crew came
ICE!

[Round 3: Pat Stay]

Your girl looks like Giant Gonzales, look at the size of his nostrils
I bet you’re getting’ sucked up there like the fucking Magic School Bus
And gettin in this big fight with his tonsils
Ain’t no bitch makin you home fries dog
You’d be lucky to get fries from McDonalds, you old trout
You know he’s old as shit, he did that moonwalk
You could see his ass wobble
See you on some Atari shit, my game’s too advanced for y’all
I banged his ex’s box (X-Box) now she can’t keep her panties on
Her friend wanted PS too (PS2), so I slammed the broad
I got that smooth game to control her (controller) and a log (analog)
Show her that the man’s the boss, hand across her face
Like, “Um excuse me, is my sandwich lost?”
Yeah yeah, your mom died, whatever bitch the game is on
Make her open my beer with her teeth till she breaks her jaws
But wait, I love her home fries, I love her-love her home fries
Look at him, starving as shit, stomach grumbling the whole time
I wanna know why, I wanna-wanna know why
The hell you keep givin’ me these motherfucking old guys
Boss status, cause static that be cutting up your phone line
You looking for a problem then you struck a fucking gold mine
Roll by slow, in a bucket got a four-five
Clip to your neck like you button up a bow tie
Oh you mad ‘cause a white boy stylin’ on you
Take a swing on me man, I’ll fucking power bomb you
Mess with me, you’d be the next Jimmy
Wet willy you so hard I have a bent pinky
A fucking robot joints oil and I don’t smoke pot
Bullets flyin out of my chest bigger than cold shots
Load cocked aim, dome shot bam, brain goes pop
If your watch’s frozen you’ll get cold clocked
Oh, dog, I’m a damn beast, Zangief, slam me
I’ll even fight you hands free and feet
Eyes closed with a blindfold so I can’t see
I’m from the motherfucking dark side, a wolf don’t scare me
Sucka free, your punches weak like Math Hoffa
So act proper and get slumped like bad posture
Spinal fracture, I’m your chiropractor, back doctor
Straighten you out, laid on the ground like an Ab Rocker
White boy and I strike like a black mamba
Half-monster, Sasquatch, stomp ya
So go ahead, say you click that trigga
You’s a lyin-ass, snitch-ass, bitch-ass… TIME!

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