Math Hoffa vs. J. Dose (Rematch) [Lyrics]

[Round 1: Math Hoffa]
Look, before I start I want to say
That I was never proud of what happened between me and Dose
And that’s why we here today, to do this for hip hop…Aight
He still look like a sucka!
A stupid motherfucker right!?
He the type to put his hat brim in ya face and start a fucking fight
Well I never been a pussy nigga, tell me what it’s like
Fronting like you hard, then running for ya fucking life
Cause when these Philly niggas see the iron
You gon see enough bodies on the ground to fill them coffins that FEMA hiding
You think he a gangsta go watch the fucking tube
So they can see we fold you up like I was cuffing Tru’s
Some of y’all new that battle I wasn’t fucking cool
Until a hat brim in ya face and it’s touching you
Real niggas respect niggas space or its bust a move
Get ya shit rocked like a thrift shop its nothing new
I’m from Brooklyn no work then we go to rob
And take ya work, BIG BANG! Off the word of God
Light switch turn em off we turn to Mike Vick
Cause we come back around with them same numbers Like we ain’t murder dog
Go ahead and talk hard, we know you ain’t about to flip Remember when “Chill dog, I’m only 19.” was coming out ya lips?
I could just give you some bars and get you out this bitch
But you the one who broke our agreement and Smack can vouch for this
Now you here on this stage, you must’ve upped ya luck
You lost on 106 three times cause you fucking suck
Haters said you gave me the shine, I’m like “Enough’s enough”
You bout to feel my hardest punchline like when I fucked you up
Now this next her is gon crush ya core
I pushed you off the stage and ran behind you to fuck you up some more
I said “Get outta my face” he said “what’s up than dawg?” Tech 9 when its check time, another fucking fraud
This battle rap shit there ain’t no competitors
Y’all seen how I was slaying the predator
I’m better than you I be the best ‘fore I D-I-E
And I ain’t falling back again ghost of B-I-G
No possession shit
Unless we talking a weapon that I done crept in with
Get off the handle than it’s the handle I teach the lesson with
Shit is deep they thought Polo got murked off
But I’m the one URL chaps got ya birth off
There’s two types of niggas in life
The niggas that find bitches and fuck em and the niggas that…. trust ’em
Who grind riches from nothing and the niggas that’s suffering
Behind hiccups is bustin and the niggas that’s duckin
The niggas who pop shit versus the niggas that snuff em
Yo my original verse was like a prophecy
An ill introduction to the to the realest two gorillas Hoffa live it, they fronting
If you came here to fight, let’s skip thru the bluffin’
I punch a hole thru this bird and get a fist full of stuffing
I told you give me my space, you said “Let’s get it, it’s nothing”.”
You disrespectful so I checked you….. end of discussion


[Round 1: J. Dose]
I should start this off by knocking you the fuck out!
But I’ma spit some bars cousin
See the whole time ya thought karma was a bitch, but I’m far from it
See I ain’t gotta get my point cross
You can already tell where I’m headed soon as the coin toss
Speculation when y’all seen me it’s like “WOW he really survived”
Or “he really revived”
Or some much dirt thrown on my name thought I was buried alive
See J. Dose was never dead just certain things that was never said
Which is why he got some better cred
And I know a close mouth ain’t never fed
But defeat was never on my mind an you know I’m a step ahead
You see I’m an ahead of myself I had to rewind myself to remind myself I’m behind myself
Simultaneously beyond myself so fast I had to time myself
Look at the clock and surprise myself
See I don’t wanna get beside myself
But there ain’t no competition besides myself
See only I can tie myself and if I do than I’m, well, by myself
It apparently doesn’t show that I’m myself
So imagine if I combine myself
Yeah I know I went back in the past to give Vlad the beginning round
But I came back just in time to finish line
I give a fuck what you haters say I’m still attacking the lyrical
You know a picture say a thousand words an just imagine the video
So homie don’t run lip ‘fore that barrel get tongue lit
In other words I can arrange/orange to get son kissed/Sunkist
Choppers with drum clips bangin’ till numbness
Ain’t a genie but rubbing me the wrong way is nothing you wanna wish
This rap world is on some dumb shit
L’ma speak on behalf of those who well actually come to spit
All the way from T-Rex to well my son Clips
And if Mook was here I bet he’d wanna trip
Cause in these battles niggas drop albums
And he still relevant off, well, one hit
I mean that’s gotta be demoralizing to a rappers ego
I guess now I know how quarterbacks fell about Tebow
But this times tables are turned, ain’t nothing screwed
My boy problems, add them, that’s not a plus for you
But don’t mind us/minus unless you wanna lose
See just cause I got class don’t mean I let you pass
I just rather do the math than divide through the half
Let the Eagle/equal do/to a W
And fuck what happened man, you scaring who?
Listen, before I let anything land, this pair’ll shoot/parachute
I ain’t about the rap, the field is where you’ll find me at
Ask Dolls, I play the corner where the drivers at
I put cheese on ya head if you trying to trap
I’m a Packer plus all my G’s ride in packs
What’s in ya pocket? Let me find out you copping sacks
You in a Lembo? We airing (Aaron), Roger that!
Here to set the record straight, 40 make him levitate
Give this nigga wings an he can really be a featherweight
You get a box, I ain’t talking in a ring I got a bullet in my neck, this nigga talkin bout a swing?!
While you was making blogs about what we did at the gym
I was trying to learn how to walk and move my fingers again
See my boy detrimental, I been mixing since 10
And still gutter ball/bol and that’s without hitting the pen/pin
So go ahead start swinging again
I put a price on ya head tag on ya toe, cut ya living expense
These other rappers ain’t give him an inch
I’m in the same spot Calicoe was at
And I wish this nigga would/wood cause its getting intense/in tents
You don’t wanna scrap, I’ma let a hundred clap
To ya family tree I’m like a lumberjack
And I don’t know why ya gun is strapped
You ain’t buckin no more Ya warring done/Warren Dunn, see him running back
Running for my life, nigga I will run ya wife
I’II fuck ya dream girl till her ass cum/come to life
I ain’t a pimp, that’s the worse lie
Since I blew/blue birds follow me like Twitter you can check just to verify
Money, cars, clothes all a nigga knows
Triple six zero z’s, all a nigga flows
Got the world in my palm I could cross him with the globe
The way Brooklyn on the net you would thought he facing Hov
Ya whole city watching probably Diddy watching
What you gonna do does he get an option
You a cold pussy I’ma bout to finger pop him
Put a price on ya head and send my niggas shopping Rah!
They’ll find you sleep and awake
Get it? Sleep in a wake
You a full time rapping battle, I’ll have em laughing at you
Cut ya throat to play pool with ya Adams apple
What can you draw that haven’t already saw?
What can you say you want YouTube to play?
I mean what could you even mention dude that wasn’t on ya interviews
The more magnified the more it became minuscule
An interview here, an interview there
This man had more interviews/inner views than a rear view mirror
Save ya breath fam, you giving me a breath tan
His breath an hot his mic need a sweatband
Before, you could’ve got signed by Def Jam
Now you wouldn’t get signed by a deaf man
Low pro, got no flow, nigga you’re loco
Rap sucks, ya gassed up, call him Sunoco
Oh no, so-so flow making them no shows
No joke, got Dose flows up in a choke hold
Homo, you old though, busting a fo’ fo’
Hit [?] with Cinco, something like Ocho
Or that super Smith’n the one that’s busting with logos
Encompassed by dollars on my Jerry Jones flow
A star up on the field I ain’t talking logo
You think it’s a game, it’s more like a post show
Get 9 out the Cal boy Ton’ Romo
BLAOW! Leave a mess on ya chest It’s Dose bitch
Aka the best of the best
Want war? Hope you got an S on ya chest
Cause what I shoot you gon need a vest on a vest
I’m a motherfucking rider
5 to that chopper
Bang his mid frame turn his body to a tire
HA! That boy Dose you better ask about him
Head of my class I don’t worry about no Math problem
What you know about bringing ya mom to the side
With a brace around ya neck cause you caught one up in the spine
Seeing her smile erode while looking in her eyes
Then tell her ya son just died
My brother caught a wig shot right up the street from me
Ever since then nigga I ain’t living peacefully
My baby moms said I went crazy and gave the peace to me
It’s cool cause she ain’t the only one that be leaving me/believe in me
I’m a motherfucking prospect quick to let that nine peck
Spit R til it’s contact lift him like a sky jet
I got places where I hit him when I use the tool about to get the shotty
But the collar get the medulla shooter
Flow colder than juice of coolers
These cats dig me like a pooper scooper
I’m the shit cause everybody feeling me
I’m superior lyrically I done killed ya ass so bad to the point where you had to swing on me
What next? Pull a gun out? Shoot the God? Huh?
Mimic Loaded Lux but I’ll be in a suit and tie?
I guess this battle’ll be do or die
I ain’t lying I got lines that could push suicide
No I said I ain’t lying, I got lines that could push Tsu aside

[Round 2: Math Hoffa]
Let’s get this roast on the way
See Dose hopes and he prays
If I get smoked on the stage, maybe the jokes go away
I came here outta curiosity, mentally open for play
The fuck is Dose gonna say to make me dose him today?
I knew he’d come back with that “Niggas still can’t handle dose
Yeah I heard you handle bread, let’s see if you can handle toast”
You shimmying ass nigga, fuck is up with all them antidotes?
Why you gotta dance around to tell niggas ya hammer smoke?
See that’s ya problem, you too hyped when you rhyme
So I’ma start flipping yours cause I’m tired of flipping mine
You should’ve turned my dome to a stadium, you wasn’t riding with ya 9
See you would be aight, but you be lying in ya lines
Get in ya zone nigga get it in
But if you get close my knuckle bones gon’ hit ya chin again
This toast, I’m delivering
I’ll Siamese the Glocks while you die of beady/diabetes shots
Like a DOSE of insulin
Now timeout cause I see some new faces in my house
If t’a’ll ain’t see the tutorial on us, you ’bout to find out
This lil nigga here suicidal he trying to sign out
You die over Dose in vain you Amy Winehouse
What’s up Dose you came back for a fight?
Well I wanna fight Smack cause I never get the match ups I like
But my Spanish niggas told me, “Don’t be mad it’s aight
I mean his names Dose (dos) guess that mean you gotta battle him twice.”
But having to write for this nigga was tough
Cause ain’t a dose line ya’ll ain’t heard
So many battle rappers done flipped you this shit could break nerves
You became the description of violating a straight herb
And it’s permanent, wow, I turned dose to a verb/Aye Verb
And I seen ya interviews I’m guessing you just love to front
Just because I punched a sucka doesn’t mean it was a sucker punch
These other niggas be getting violated
Cause they all a bunch of bluffing punks
But I’m the type of nigga you only gotta fuck with ONCE!
So why deprive me of just being who I be
I’m such a fly G my passport is my ID
It’s NYB we the force they don’t try see
They know they gotta go with the flow I’m teaching Tai Chi
I’ll have this dude on the flo’ screaming out “Why me!?”
I’ll send four roaming/Roman ya way you get the IV
Dose you can’t fuck with me privately or publicly
But if we ran a train on a hoe this what you gonna see
See I’ma take her first, shake her earth, make her squirt
Throw it in her box s deep I bet I make her burp
But you go against the grain so when its ya time for jumping in
This lame’ll put his face on the box, this nigga Uncle Ben
I mean I got so much to work off, I can crucify you with no cross
You battled Joey Jihad I was like “Why?”I was thrown off
Cause he also got footage online of getting broke off
You got ya head cracked, he dozed off, nigga you both lost
I’m giving him pure comedy, he don’t deserve hot quotes
Matter fact ya whole career is like a knock knock joke
Knock knock (who there)
Dose! (dose who?)

[Round 2: J. Dose]
I’m just living like I never lived it
The grim reaper called I guess he feeling pessimistic
See it’s impressing how I capture every second to perpetuate the present I’m just saying I’m forever gifted
Y’all seen what I been through
Ain’t no point in me trying to fake it
With all these chapters in my life is just his story/history in the making
I mean y’all know the deal so y’all knows it’s real
And when the fire coming you know the drill
Stop drop and roll
‘Fore I cock lock and load
My spot hot as stoves, cops got the block patrolled
You ain’t a thug man you probably got a job to go
Not to switch the subject though but be honest bro
The only time you shine and flow/shining floors is with Mop & Glow
Been a loser all ya life cause it’s bout time you know
Sick of defeat wanna he’ll/heel but don’t feel what the doctor shows/Dr. Sholes
Y’all know me and that nigga Con had a similar line
But I didn’t hear him when I wrote it
And the shit is still mine listen
I ain’t saying you straight chocha
But every time I see you, you kinda change ya persona
When them cameras off you don’t really act that hard
You ain’t bout that action you just rapping hard
They want a problem until they got Math involved
You want an ISSUE you can get the whole CATALOGUE SUBSCRIPTION MAGAZINE make the NEWS
But there’s something I READ about him/red bottoms
He hate to lose/hate the Lous’ (Louis Vuitton)
You gon get the feet/defeat just without the lace and shoe
And while y’all play the tube
Smack I’m thinkin major moves
All I see is dollars paper view/Pay Per View
I mean y’all put J on TV, Ray Charles’ll hop out his grave to see me
Listen I’m just trying to make dough he be on that hate flow
Til the dots put a cast on him you can stay broke
I got fans in the back with their hands raised I shine an much I gotta rap with a lampshade
Cause y’all can tell ifs my time
Since ‘991 been labeled as a human walking time bomb
Words off the wall no timeline
Everything I write fly skyline
You a cheerleader hating on the sideline
I make the seven point and raise him like a pom pom
NIGGA! You know the money stay on my mind
So a nigga stretch ends like the wide nine
And ya bitch been trying reach me like a hotline
Cause last visit left her curling like a hot iron
Man you better recognize who the top don
‘Fore you catch it on sight no dot com, no not lying
You better Dash like Dame or catch a gap in you bigger than a ROC sign
Cause niggas know I’m a tool blammer
With them loaded rhinos in that new banger
Hard to control when I use hammers
Big shit you gotta hold like a news camera
BLAOW fucking with me I hope you got a new plan
He bout to have more issues than a newsstand
Ever since I battled he became the new Stan
You remind me of a windmill; HUGE FAN
Bars impressive you just want to imitate it
Jacking my style since when you been an animated?
But let me find out you jack rhymes
You gon have to retire and get aired out flatlined
Wait wait I’ma show you why I don’t think math ride
Jack Time, Air Flat, and they say I don’t have lines
Don’t watch me watch TV lesson to the wise
In that case Viewer discretion is advised
Wassup with this nigga so obsessed with telling lies
When I see him the ladder a get him to climbing
So I suggest you get up in the skies/disguise
Cause I grab tools act a fool, quick to hit you
I do hammers like cameras flash, shoot, get the picture
You don’t want die you tripping spare the flight
Gamble with ya life and you can get that paradise
Nah I said you don’t want a DIE, trippin spare the flight
Gamble with ya life and you can get that pair of dice
Futuristic flow ya history for real chump
I’m so cold I get Mr. Freeze chill bumps
Saying I ain’t real
But if I pull this joker card he would never find a deal
Understand I’m kinds ill, make this rider stop and grill
You’ll see ARs/C-A-Rs and be staring/steering like the man behind the wheel
This ain’t no 106 Park shit this some raw shit
Blow his body parts find his head between his armpits
You call this a battle, that’s a clear joke
Bet ya life and you gonna be dead broke
Flow bananas I make King Kong get amazed
Cause I go realer/gorilla with bars like he in a cage
I need a dot before I hit the stage
Cause even the deaf know my raps sick they got hearing AIDS
Think you actually can win fam’?
You got a better chance tyna use a ladder on quicksand
I get you tagged for a quick gram
Nigga I’ma boss I can make ya shadow my hitman
Turn it to a holocaust you get slaughtered dog
Eagle to the back of ya head knock a quarter off

[Round 3: Math Hoffa]
Before I start this 3rd round, I just wanna speak to y’all
I still remember the last time I battled on URL
It’s ok, I ain’t got no beef with ya’ll
It’s not like I be throwing Hennessey bottles or DNA 12 year old teeth at
Y’all all I ask is while I’m on the stage, y’all niggas keep it tall
If you wanna boo, boo for wack bars that don’t reach at all
Don’t boo because he’s ya dawg from ya region, you wanna even odds
Or you wanted something simple and the line was too deep for y’all
Or a nigga red sleeveless hoody just looked to sweet to y’all
Or because they call me a bully and that word just make the demons call
It brings us back to a time when were younger, naive, weak and small
And the biggest dude on the block used to put hands and feet on y’all
And you look up at me like “Fuck Math I wanna see him fall!”
People this is battle rap, two emcees hit a stage
With no beat they compete with rap schemes and displays
Now though shit might sound real or really mean full of rage
At the end of the day they don’t mean what they say
Except me!
If I ain’t ya number one I should be in ya best three
Niggas know Dose cause they will never forget me
So this battle is like Bruce Lee versus Jet Li
My punches’ll turn a URL stage into UFC Octagon!
I brought an As I’m into lots of dram;
If he do ‘t want the clips he’ll get ate/eight Octomom
I sat you in the crib and raised my value like some stocks and bonds
These kinda rhymes gon send you back in long as Obama time
Nobody buys that you popping them triggers
Treat ya self and be ya self while you dropping them lyrics
You just a battle rapper battling for the spot of the illest
I solidified my spot with gorillas and I don’t rock with you niggas
But I ain’t come here to fight in front the city
This time you getting beat with vocals you know swizzy
Blood everywhere oh trizzy, I throw 50
The the way these Young Bucks be acting, so silly
I’m the truest; I dealt with that coke and that dope really
I don’t seen an much snow in the summer you grow chilly
From collections low with that weapon that fo fizzy
Man I pull that trigger back an hard I go GIMMIE!
Tear ya wig off I’m like chemo
Low with them tools in ya home….Depot!
I put a peephole thru you and two of ya peoples
You’ll die from one round but they still say it’s a 3-0
Best rapper yes master, it’s the Neo
X-factor colder than that cold cut trio
This gonna be the meanest Hoffa that you ever seen yo
For your sake hope there’s a doctor and a lawyer in the house; Theo
Smack! Norbes! Beasley! Chico!
Y’all know that I’m a shooter why even give me a free throw
Don’t wine when I do him greasy yo; Pino
This ain’t even a matchup the people wanted to see though What ya’ll really wanted to see? Cassidy verse Meek Mills? Please, chill!
I wouldn’t be feeling that bullshit on an E pill
Them niggas can’t fuck with this stage, let’s be real
No disrespect they make hits, but we kill
It’s Pac Juice! They know whafs up in the booth
Yeah I could make the transition but I’m stuck on the truth
Wack battles, wack music, who gives a fuck about Mook?
Smack wassup I’m trying to battle Lux up on the roof
DNA fixed his tooth now he smooth for the viewers
T-Rex a check away from removing his tumor
You named yourself Dose that’s what ruined ya future
Cause being number two in a battle makes you the loser
You blew the opportunity that BET lent you
Philly niggas hate you they b-e-t against you
I know deep inside ya mind defeating me is essential
But if you the one that gave me shine than I’m the deity that sent you
Now I’m in ya scenery to tempt you
Are you gon be like me and just repeat what we done went through?
Or we gonna be emcees and paint the scene like we was meant to?
Now l’ma close my eyes…no surprise
You on a frequency, it’s mental…
Now ya kids can look up to you
Get a job, work hard, live comfortable
Cause battling after me punking you is not gonna he enough for you
But you a grown man Dose so you gon do just what you want to do
But keep in mind I could’ve battled Hitman if I wanted to
But I got you paid and it wasn’t just to take a dump on you
They could never say I don’t give a shit, I took a number 2
You don’t got bars like that
You he the running man my nigga, you ain’t hard like that
I know ya’ll like “Damn, why he ain’t tap his jaw like that?”
Come see my next battle I’ma bring them bars right back

[Round 3: J. Dose]
I’m sure after hearing all these bars y’all wondering why I ain’t been nowhere around
I’m talking years right now
Well they say if you build it they will come
And that should explain why I’m here right now
See I let him build and build and build
To the top so I could tear him right down
And as a result literally make me the top tier right now
Two types of niggas in life huh?
Well which kind are you?
The one that put ya homies in a life threatening situation
Cause on some real I don’t think you know a real nigga limitations
Somebody could’ve got killed what if my partner was strapped
Ya publicity stunt woulda been nullified if ya man died over rap
And that’s probably why they not here, been dodging this match
Plus we haven’t seen them since where all them guys in the back
Oh! well I’m guessing they not for your crap
They probably know everything you did was kind of an act
And aside from the fact you got poppin and scrapped
I know all Brooklyn niggas wasn’t rockin with that
You know two types of niggas in life huh
Yeah the ones that peep a vulnerable situation and try to exploit it
Claiming they real when integrity arise they decide to ignore it
You know the kind that get around a bunch of new niggas and try to impress
Do everything in the book except rocking a dress
See I know, see a lil kid outside of his city got gritty got busy
You knew attacking my size the only way to fight with me
But in ya favor the naive couldn’t recognize the deal
But tell me what you see in the mirror cause you know, real recognize real
Two types of niggas in life huh, that still ain’t clear HOLD SON!
Last time I checked it takes one to know one
I only know one and that’s real
Than he says “Finally, daddy’s spending time with me.”
Alright pop, what you glorifying? Deadbeats?
Wait, wait, I get it, I get it he when he says “Get out my face…son” he was serious clearly
Either that or this dude’s confused
You know the bars an hot made him lose his cool
I probably catch a case or hit the cell for attacking with bars
Cause once he adapt to the ER I’ll probably get a battery charge
What you asking me for? You ain’t ask for that
Cause what I rapped really happened, you just happened to rap
OK, you put the smack in the Smack
Let’s keep it real, because ya rapping was wack
You know last time I checked
Smack was for rap
In that case why didn’t you put a smack in a track?
Or a smack in the deal nah nah better yet a smack in the plaque
Wait I let me get it straight he if putting smack in the Smack really mattered in rap
Than why are you trying to spark a flame by having this match
I got bars something that you actually lack
With verses that make rappers wanna smack on the Smack
So go ahead you can have ya lil smack on the smack
Hope you get a cookie a trophy pat on ya back
Enjoy it while it last cause you ain’t having it back
Unless you really got me chopped cause I ain’t battling ask/ax
This nigga full of hot air til he catching a flat
So save ya breath for the pumps to ya as my attack/asthma attack
I ain’t rapping no mo’ so cherish ya present or get ya box wrapped in a bow
Clapping a fo lay ya body flat on the flo’
Arms in the crowd, head in the back of the row
You only known cause you did what never happened befo’
Tell me this you think a fanatical blow is an actual show?
So I guess “Get out my face son” was a rap that you wrote
And if those were your components on how to master a flow
After that one hit wonder why you could never actually blow? So don’t get full of ya self and make a fool of ya self
Cause in the and Math you only fooling ya self
See this kid, I got dumb rhymes not just sometimes
So I don’t have to use a swing for a punchline
You shoulda known that nothing would last
I mean I’m young, the future, stuck in the past
Pac Juice? Now you know you can’t tell him shit
Would someone tell this fucking pussy he won’t sell a bit
I mean this shit got wild
You just don’t need a stylist you need a list of styles
See me I give the manager illusions
Walk inside the Louie store they like “the mannequin is moving”
Oh you mad cause I’m styling on you?
To and try that shit these Philly niggas wildin’ on you
Math that’s only if I ain’t on you
You ain’t never ride I’ma put some mileage on you
Homie when that chrome to ya cranium
Click Clack BOOM! Turn his dome to a stadium!

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