Dizaster vs. Arsonal [Lyrics] (2013 Rematch)

[Round 1: Arsonal]

Toronto! Wassup! It feels good to be back here
I had to make my return after killing Patrick last year
Now Bashir what I gotta bash here
Y’all know me, I’m hands on when I check pussy
First round gon be the pap smear
Diz you got lyrical talent, but I’m not a fan
In battle you a vet but I can’t respect your kind of man
You was KOTD champ, you was life, you had a lot of fans
You lost and said fuck them for URL, you wildin’ fam
Now you trying to regain respect? But you not a man
You more of a disgrace to them then to the Taliban
You a cocky tatted aggressor, you a yeller when you rap
You tried smack now you came back and you catching these clips
Nigga you Hollohan
You lost to a rapper that purchase bars, that’s insane
Me, I got a hustler mentality, I will flip cane/’caine
Mention my crip gang, 5th bang, til my wrist sprain
I’ll fire and Diz hire, Tina Marie and Rick James
Fire and desire, only reason I mention Rick James
Is cuz y’all both artist who die from trying to get cane/caine
Purple flag where my clip hang, fry ya membrane
Ya earth the third rocked after ya son get that big bang
Bashir’s no Dizaster, I could see he styling
He not a G he play gangsta that’s an easy talent
Well my heat be wilding, while he freestyling
One bow, one bang bang! Waka/Chief Keef album
And nah, I ain’t buying that liar shit that you selling
You over act so they thinking it’s a fire pit that you dwell in
But deep down you’s a soft soul you doctor (?)
I’m a product of desecration I’m an educated felon
All that yelling won’t gon shake up a nigga that never rattle
I’m a bred brunching for big beef, he small cattle
Got a wide nose cannon aiming at you
Shooting for an hour straight like the camera man at ya DNA battle
Speaking of battles, our last battle ya body bag for sure
A definite (death in it), ya first round was trash
I whooped ya ass for the hell of it
Cali felt you was losing, so they cancelled the rest of it
The west had to interrupt, why?
Cuz every bar that I tell is swift (Taylor Swift)
Arrest, interrupt, Taylor Swift
Canada y’all smell me on that? Is y’all inhaling this?
Canada y’all smell me on that? Is y’all inhaling this?
One word to describe this crime scene, ya Alias
Dizaster, please tell me the price of a brick right now, pure coke
Please just give me a round amount
Oh yeah, you not a trapper, you a actor
Nigga what you getting loud about?
You not even a actor you an rapper, but on wax you never sound it out
You only good for about 4 bars an acappella freestyle
You Conceited on Wild N’ Out
I said I got a DE cuz I’m a G but RA D Eagle spray you
I got a DE cuz I’m a G RADE, DEGRADE you
See first way I spit see it really didn’t faze you
But every bar I spit, kick, I gotta Sonya blade you
I made you and these Grape Street Crip niggas raised you
If 6 clap, then 6 pack nigga muscles around ya naval
If we tussle around I’m able to let everybody put they hands on you nigga
You like a spade shuffle around a table
Bars after bars after bars that’s all you heard from me
I put bar after bar like I architected Bourbon street
My shit is real, my shit is raw, my shit is authentic
And you can’t spell BARS without putting that ARS in it

[Round 1: Dizaster]

You came up here wearing red, who the fuck designs your stuff?
Are you a Grape street cat or some kind of blood?
I said I wouldn’t freestyle for once, I lied
I said I been writing for months but fuck it Charron knows
Ain’t no freestylers like us, ayo Charron I’m a freestyle-
Sike! I don’t freestyle with no cunts
I’m glad you took this trip to expose me
Cuz I only took this trip to embarrass ya
Oh yeah today we gon talk a lot about the bitch in ya character
So today everybody welcome the fakest crip in America!
And he always wanna throw his C’s up
When he’s far away from any B’s that can make him freeze up
Last time he was in LA he wasn’t acting too G’d up
That same purple flag he always flashing
Was in the back of his jeans tucked
It’s what I’m saying tho, see he does it in Canada
Yeah he does it in Canada
Yeah this motherfucker ain’t on the block, that shows you he ain’t grape
He been in Canada more times than he’s been to Watts
How is this fool a fuckin’ G? How is this fool a G?
He always refer to the yappin about how his burners be clappin’
And how he has all these murder contraptions
But when will we see these words turn into actions?
It’s like every time you get in the spotlight you get this allergic reaction
You keepin it real in ya verse when you’re rappin’?
Every time bout how ya thang be blastin’ and how ya gang be smashin
The way he rap you would think he some type of trained assassin
No, he’s a fake geek rappin, false grape street flaggin’
Mainstream acting, male battle rapper that looks like Tracy Chapman
How we gon play this captain? Ya face gets slapped in so fast
Everybody in Toronto will get the delayed reaction
Your brain plummets and your frame collapses
Arcane’s stomach will even feel the pain from it
That’s what I call a chain reaction
Y’all remember him from all the blockbuster stories and theaters
And that one movie, I didn’t even like his performance either
He was that one horrible slimy looking foreign creature
That ended up having a baby with Sigourney Weaver
He’s known as the most viewed in the world, he’s known as the leader
But he’s also known for being an MC with the most phony demeanor
Even more than Arcane even tho he got exposed as a cheater
Because he weaseled his way to the title, same way he stole it from Peter
But I’ll get my chain back Toronto and I ain’t have to go back for it either
I’ll just tell Pat
“Stay, now go fetch it for me like a fucking Golden Retriever!”
Ain’t no reason to further delay this shit
I’ma make a verbal statement quick
When we first battled in the Bay
He told me he’ll run in my mosque and return with a bacon strip
Those are the words you gon say?
If you would’ve went any further that day
That verse would have made me sick
This is how it would’ve turned up
I would’ve germinated the earth
Terminated this crip
I’ll beat you in your spine steadily til ya vertebrae curves and then it slips
Why step to me? This disectomy will give you a herniated disc
I give a fuck if you were from the highest murder rate exists
I’ll strangle ya throat til ya blood circulation restricts
And you start lookin like you did on stage in Detroit
When you developed that gay nervous little twitch
I plant you feet first in the pavement like this
Pull your face away vertical with a crane that lifts you away
Have you ever seen a person’s face get stretched?
I’ll pull your eyes so far back in ya head
You’ll literally turn into an Asian bitch
You look like Waka Flocka all day, these jeans all gay
Wardrobe belongs to Kanye, face screaming “give me back the Wale”

[Round 2: Arsonal]

2010, Hitman vs Ars, that was a main classic
But for y’all to see where this shit goin, y’all gon need glasses
Cuz since that day, you, The Saurus, Illmac, Okwerdz
All y’all geek asses instantly became a thing of the past/pass
A bunch of Steve Nash’s
Now somebody please tell Da Don that I don’t do rematches
I guess I lied to his face like I did to DNA
Before I smoked his father cheap ashes
To you battle rap like the NBA on Dish, cheap access to watch
But besides King Of the Dot, every other league passes
I’m akward, I’m left handed, but I learned to write and read backwards
You a internet pedophile, probably part of teen catfish
MIB memory loss, soon as he see flashes
Let me wipe the sweat of my forehead and begin to clean glasses
Nah let’s keep it real, y’all wanna see tragic
How about I use a Calico to make him Diz/dis-appear that’ll B(e) Magic
I’m in ya bitch ocean swimming with Marine tactics
I ain’t gotta fuck on ya bed I’d rather bean bag it
I’m on a mission, 2 targets, 3 ratchets
How y’all expect me to put my A game against a D – average
My (?) I pull slow, I leave em ripped with a stitched upper torso
Have Diz lookin’ like a True Religion jean jacket
My talent, my skill is real, it’s undenying
But it’s in ya NATURE BOY, you RIC FLAIR when it come to lying
You say you put the metal to niggas jeans, let off that steam
No one’s denying, but then you pour the water out the top
Cuz you literally dump your iron
You Malcolm X with the lies when you rhyme it’s by any means necessary
But that’s your rap image you live if you put your real life secondary
How I live you could catch a slug from a secretary
That keep a loaded 5th, Diz ya guns don’t exist
They like the 30th of February
Now you say you beat Shotty Horroh…. Bitch, no you didn’t
You said you beat DNA…. Bitch, no you didn’t
You even said you beat Crome… and you lost to him the worst
He had so much dirt on yo stupid ass I had to put some in this verse
Now what I did to Crome was bad, but when you battled Crome I laughed
Cuz honestly Crome is trash, Diz how’d he expose yo ass?
He had everything from text messages, sex messages
Pornographic photographs, a note attached to a bottle of water
Like drink this with yo thirsty ass
Let me ask you this, would you let the bitch he sent to you
Blind fold you and have yo hands tied?
Would you fly standby with the bitch
Knowing the plane gon land in a field full of landmines
Would you put it in your mouth and suck the blood off her tampon?
No? So why you let that pussy nigga send a bitch to do a man’s job?
Nigga I’m street smart and book smart
Bashir, you don’t even look smart
In a game of chess, would you sacrifice your queen to let your rook walk?
All you wanna do is battle
Nigga I got 2 deals on the table, that’s the good part
So even when this chapter close
I’ma be in between paper like a bookmark
Nigga you wouldn’t hurt a fly, you wouldn’t throw a jab at a hook bar
You fear altercation, that’s why hate to drive a cab with a push start
We bang, we throw it up, Grape street nigga, sign language
That’s how crooks talk
Nigga yo bars stink, worse than a Shotgun Suge fart
Now stop bitching bitch nigga and rap
What? You think cuz I flew here that I ain’t got a Smith’n to clap?
Well the pilot my biggest customer, I give him the strap
He meet at baggage claim when I land that’s when he give me it back
Nigga I’m here to snatch every bit of confidence from your conscience
Since you trying to convince Canada your accomplishments
I’m your consequence, my defense, I kill him with kindness
In Recon sense
Now that 40 start to smoke and no marijuana stench
You gotta crawl before you walk, so taking Ars, that was a big step
King Of the Dot put your money where your mouth is
Or you gon get your chin checked
See I give credit when it’s due, your flow bankrupt, in debt
But now that we in the T, D, they banking on a quick death
Bars after bars after bars, all you heard from me
I put bar after bar like I architected Bourbon Street
My shit is real, my shit is raw, my shit is authentic
And you can’t spell BARS without putting that ARS in it!

[Round 2: Dizaster]

Aight you wanna play this “I know which bitch you fucked game” cool
I’m sorry Mystique I wasn’t gonna bring this up I love you
So you wanna talk shit about the Sweden shit bitch
Cool, I’m glad you wanted to bring it up, look at her
She’s all fucking giggling it up
Cuz this dude brown nosed her for 120 minutes and he didn’t fuck!
Real fucking shit, you sniffed her butt, you licked it up
Ray Swag lookin at you like “that bitch what’s up”
You fucked up give it up
How does it feel to know your tongue
Was where Uno Lavoz used to hang his dick and nuts
It don’t matter where he put his tongue, he tongued ‘em both
It’s funny that Uno Lavoz came before em
Because he ended up becoming the butt of a joke
That’s hella funny bro
This fool’s such a fuckin pussy, yes swear to god, she standing right there
How are you gonna say that it didn’t happen bro?
After a week stay you fucking came back to your girl
And you made out with her, Lady Arsonal, yeah
You wanna betray the one that loves you the most
You ain’t a fucking man, you a supreme snake
You ain’t two faced, you three faced, any bitch that with you
Can find another dude to be with off of ebay
This dude drove down Mystiques Hershey highway
Like it was an open freeway
Then came back to his girl after a week’s stay and kissed her
But when she makes out with him does she understand that
Pieces of feces can at least stay in your mouth for up to 3 days
Before they decay, do you know what that means ay?
That means everytime you and ya girl kiss you
You, her and Mystique are having an ass to mouth three-way
His shit is real, his shit is raw, his shit is authentic!
And you can’t spell eating ARSE without putting the ARS in it
Talking shit, he be walking around for like a year
With her asshole stuck to his bottom lip
Which makes a lot of sense
Cuz recently in all the blogs he did he’s been talking a lot of shit
And after that we gon fuck where ya mom at
And I’ma roll up and take a shit where ya lawn at
Before I fuck your bitch I’ma cover up and get my cock wrapped
Cuz whatever she got I don’t want that
So if I can’t find my condoms and I forgot where I put the box at
I’ma just call up Drake like
“Yo where’s your pops at, I need to borrow one of his yamaka top hats”
I’ll treat ‘em like emo kids, you know the ones stuck in a dark past
Rocking the broken heart tats
What he got in common with those goth cats?
Both of ‘em are two seconds away
From getting their wrists and their arms slashed
With pieces of sharp glass, arteries carved out
Bodies covered in large gashes
From laying on top of broken shards smashed
So much different colors of blood all over the walls splashed
It’ll look like I set off a Boston Marathon bomb blast
Inside of a kindergarten art class
I’ll have no regard for Ars at
I’ll bring a grenade launcher his garage for all of his cars are parked at
So hard that I’ll have the whole front part of his front yard
Lookin like Kanye’s car crash he’ll literally
Have to pull a baby at the car dash (Kardash)
I’ll show up to his house rocking a Saw mask with a sawed-off Shotgun
Attached to blade saw that lets a blade off
Soon as you pop one, the bayonet is there
Cuz if you run out of shells for the shotty and you don’t got none
The blade keeps spinnin incase the big homies from ya block come
I’ll still put Suge in a box then saw his body in half
That’s what I call a Sawed-off shotgun
I can talk about Mossburgs, you know why Cortez? Because I got one
The only thing he has in common with a shotgun
Is he went to Detroit and forgot one
He went to the Motor City and this clown was scared
He was in the 313 and they had him surrounded there
He denied he knew Suge
Then Calicoe snuck him out the back and down some stairs
He’s like Elmer Fudd cuz he threw shotgun in a hole
So he can get out here/hare

[Round 3: Arsonal]

My last round is titled “know how” cuz you really gotta know how to win
But to be a winner you gotta be a splinter
You gotta know how to get up under ya skin
See you gotta be equipped with the fundamentals
And know how to begin but this was already over before it started
So know how it’ll end
You wish you knew then what you know now
But what you lack now is the know how
So yo pastor was missing a father figure
To discipline you and tell you to slow down
This a dirty game, it’s a dirty shame
And I heard Diz was on the Low Down
But I already won (1) after round 2 so here’s 3 shot’s from a 4 pound
Truthfully Diz, you a fan of mine
And I make my fans stand in line cuz my bars are sharper than a Samurai
When it’s war time I’m in the camouflage
But when it come to taking battles seriously
You freestyle and you half ass like tanning lines
You fantasize about getting yo hands dirty
But somehow you keep ‘em sanitized
Nigga I’m here to give advice my nigga, that’s right I can advise
You animated ass niggas will do anything for camera time
If you ain’t trying to get beat, then your swagger better get amplified
And ya resume will speak for itself right? Til I hand ‘em mine
You spittin random lines, fuck the 3 mins I’ll give you ample time
I’m Al Pacino in Scarface the way I handle lines
I wrote the blueprint on battle rap and I came up with the grand design
You livin’ for the camera but your real life you can’t rewind
So don’t bite the hand that fixed your bottle
When yo belly hand that empty feel
Cuz this same hand will rock your cradle for the face on a $50 bill
Nigga my name Darell Jones
So when this DJ present and open this Cal lid (Khaled) to let it ring
You should know exactly how Nicki feel
Hold up, I said DJ Khaled present a ring to Nicki, eww
Hallelujah I leave this nigga holy he a Bentley grill
I’m a word smith, how should I word this?
I ain’t the one you wanna fight words with
I paved the way, I made it possible for this nigga to take a road trip
Youth, I’m full of grown age, you niggas ain’t even cold sick
Disrespecting me gives you a life expectancy of a gold fish
Now remember this, I run thru lines better than Emmitt Smith
Before the battle I pop the same pill as the nigga off of Limitless
I’m tweaking out, I’m hallucinating, I’m seeing all type of images
The way I write, my penmanship, I will revise the book of Genesis
You fuckin up ya legacy, definitely, you freestyling having scrimmages
You a huge Diz-appointment and on that bar I put a emphasis
Cuz it was a time when he was on a mission
He was having battles for free, fighting for no position
So if you wanted to experiment and play around with the freestyles then
That was your decision, but now it ain’t funny
Cuz these fans spent they hard earned money to go and listen
That’s why I always put on a show
Now that I rap for the dough/”doh!” I’m Homer Simpson
Bars nigga, now let’s put some shit in perspective
I was offered Diz and I accepted
They said “But Ars you said you don’t do rematches”
Like they wanted me to reject it
But they ain’t put a battle nigga in front of me yet that I respected
So it’s time I let my K shine, this Lebanese nigga got a death wish
Check this, clench my palm under my left wrist
Cock back, feed him a knuckle off of my left fist
Introduce myself, get acquainted with ya ex bitch
Just to knock her walls down, I nicknamed her Tetris
I’m Grape street crip in all red, I like to set trip
Ya jewels will get snatched on Cam, I make ya set dip
Ya Juelz will get snatched on Cam, I’ll make ya SET, DIP
Maury he is not the shooter, liar detected
Now let’s play swear to god, I swear to god
After he battled Rex this bitch nigga called my phone and said
“Hey Ars yo I swear to god man the URL crowd they started booing me”
I said “Diz truthfully, that ain’t got nothing to do with me
Why don’t you setup a rematch, you and me
And I’m not battling for 2 or 3, quadruple that,
Put it in writing and I’ll start writing your Eulogy”
Cuz on the real nigga, Rex beat you, on the real Rex beat you
But I feel like I’ma step up
He bodied you in New York, in Canada I’m just aiming for the neck up
But we could’ve battled dead in the middle of little Italy
But that head shot in Oakland knocked his lights out literally
But he ain’t know every riddle the middle man that didn’t do diddly
End up like a Hockey player, they go in a box for every penalty
Now really tho, I got a Canadian chopper for this stunt dummy
But it’s different cuz it was manufactured in the DR
It’s an AK that’s used to hunt mummies, shoot til it’s on E
You get to the count of 3 to try and run from me
Nigga I just said I got a gun named Drake that’ll take your Young Money
Bars nigga, I flip nouns, I’ma use some recycled shit this round
Cuz I’m Mr. Disrespectful so the disrespectful shit’s now
Shoutout to Mr. Toronto cuz we in his town
But you Draked after that cake and right now I’m feeling like Chris Brown
But we ain’t fighting over Rihanna, ain’t no bottles getting tossed to him
I’m throwing bullets and you catch ‘em, this (?) year
Rifle scope on my hand gun, soon as I see you with a cross here
Terrorist down mister President, mission all clear
Now them last few bars the man Drake might not like that
But I’m Kendrick Lamar dissing all of these rap niggas
And I bet you Drake ain’t gon fight back
Unless it’s for Weezy cuz he’s down with his day one niggas
Let me hear you say, no new friends, no new friends, no new friends
No no new friends, he only down with his day one niggas
That mean I gotta fuck him
And Bishop Brigante up and tie all of the loose ends
I got 2 9’s that hold change for a 20, I give ‘em 2 10’s
Guaranteed to leave all y’all smoked out like Snoop’s friends
Why Drake ain’t here? Cuz I ain’t want him hosting my battle
He did enough shit
I ain’t mad at you Drake or the niggas you fuck with
But cosigning Dizaster and Hollow Da Don that’s some fuck shit
And it just go to show that all three of y’all
Will probably suck a nigga dick for some Truk Fit
You got OVO that’s (?) Arsonal on some hating shit
I was a fan of Drake when he made the shit
But Lebonese niggas just ain’t the shit
Versace Versace, medusa head on me like I’m illuminati
King of the Dot is for battlers that’s why Drake not on this property
Versace Versace, medusa head on me like I’m illuminati
King of the Dot is for battlers that’s why Drake not on this property
You ain’t fuckin Halle Barry you represent nigga monogamy
I own my own league, the UW gon be the biggest monopoly
Cuz he started from the bottom now he here
He started from the bottom but I really don’t fuckin care
I started from the bottom and I’m still here
I got a DE named Degrassi that’ll put you and Drake back in a wheelchair
My shit is real, my shit is raw, my shit is authentic
Nah fuck all that, tell him, tell Drake, tell his skateboarding ass boss
You can’t spell BARS without putting that ARS in it!

[Round 3: Dizaster]

Get you Aunt Jemima fuckin haircut the fuck outta here
Aye so shut the fuck up with all the bullshit Ars
You see that’s how we know you a fake dude
And now you want shock value in every battle
So you going off dissin Drake too
But if you a real man you would’ve just appreciated
The fact that he’s the one that fucking paid you
Bitch, why don’t you just take the check and be respectful
Why you always have to be so “Arsonal Da Rebel I’m so disrespectful”?
You’re not Arsonal Da Rebel, man I should fuckin punch him
He didn’t sound like he was mad at Drake cuz he wasn’t here
He sounded like he was mad at Drake cuz he wants to fuck him
The fuck was that shit?
You ain’t Arsonal Da Rebel, you’re Arsonal the Attention Whore
Ya mother’s fat bitch, she’s a 10 chin whore
When it comes to your bars and metaphors, my policy is “less is more”
Yeah your bars are awesome Ars, awesome just like your credit score
You think I give a fuck what you
And ya little nerds say about me on a messageboard?
When half of them look like Weeman
This battle gon be like Heeman versus Skelator
I’ll beat the fuck outta you with my bare hands
What the hell would I need weapons for? I’ll go head to head with you
Shred you from head to toe deck you and leave you headless
My elbows are welded like Zelda’s sword
What the hell would I need weapons for?
I’ll set this whole building on fire and reroute you to the exit door
And soon as you go down the steps
I’ll drop a gallon of water and wet the floor
And scream “Ars!” and you turn around and I’ll toss you an electric cord
Peace out, let’s get it poppin’
The heavy metal been rockin since ‘74
I’ll bust a shot to Biggie & Pac and have you knockin on heaven’s door
This dude is fake as fuck, he’s not my friend
He’s just my friend depending on occasion
See I already knew he was bipolar, that was confirmation
Of all the constant changes
Now I flew half way across the nation
Not knowing what type of twat I’m facing
This ain’t even a battle
This an anonymous blind date with a broad like online dating
I’m amongst these stars like Sagan
He wanted the spotlight but King Of The Dot’s hype’s taken
I’m like James Bond the agent
If being a doctor was also his part time occupation
Cuz either way it goes you will end up in the lobby
Pacing like a hospital patient patiently waiting
For a black market heart replacement
I will stomp you thru the Toronto pavement
Pull out my fucking rug and start to praise him
Like Assalamualaikum then snatch the Star of David off of Drake
And use it to carve Ars’ face in so hard
That the marks I make will indent his grill like fossil traces
On carbon dated rock formations
Who want it to? Pat Stay? I’ma battle you next you big ass motherfucker
Lame I’m kidnapping you too and if you actually go missing
Pat would Stay missing
Cuz nobody would actually pay back the ransom to get ‘em
The only person on earth that would actually miss ‘em
Is the faggot behind the desk selling him all his tanning prescriptions
I told Organik I didn’t wanna come back til I killed ‘em
Then he put me in front of him, so I’m back on a mission
Back grabbing ammunition, back, I’ma attack his rap battling militia man
When I activate catalyst in ‘em
People know, my aim is close range with the scrap is so efficient
But I’m more crafty from a distance
I have more advantage when I’m hidden
I could camp out with the black out from a tactical position
Sideways in the highway windy ass condition
Like this and accurately hit ‘em, bullets flying thru his crib
Blood splattered thru the kitchen
Have his whole pad lookin like the Spanish Inquisition
I’ll leave ‘em on his back looking stiff like a rat when the venom
Starts traveling in ‘em after a poisonous Adder just bit him
These fans said I fell off, they had me trapped in this prison
But I can’t fall off, I can never be captured as a victim
Nah, they said Dizaster’s no longer has it in ‘em
But that’s an illusion, I’m a rap battling Magician
And Houdini always evades capture
And escapes from the shackles he’s given
And now I’m back and cataclysmic
If I had Organik’s position I would’ve handled things different
I’ll snatch the chain off Arcane
Smack the fuck outta him and strangle him with it
And transfer him to his old league, call it the faggot division
Where only him and Manic were in it
You fake gangster!
Who does this fake ass crip shit in battles besides you?
And then you roll around tellin people you’re who they wanna be like
Who the fuck would ever wanna be like you?
Be like who? Some weak IQ low life piece of shit
That constantly glorifies being in the street like you?
Why? So I could be able to tell people I’m a G like you?
Fuck your life that we see right thru
That ain’t life, you need to realize too, I chill with real Grapes
None of them move, act, talk or even speak like you
You copy what the G’s do on the screen and copy what he might do
See to them you might be a G, but to me
You got a facade I could see right thru
Unless you go to LA and bang on them Bloods that be Damu
That’ll beat you ‘til your Levi’s blue
I said you’ll get beat ‘til you leave, eyes blue
I ain’t no gangster, but I could shoot you to win a 3-5 too
I ain’t married to this thug life but oh I vow if it’s beef we’re engaging in
I’ma let it ring “I do”
See you, you ain’t hot, you be talking bout how you gangsta
I’m Lebanese, you think you more like you from the block
Well let’s tell the difference then
Okay see when you and your homies was setting up the shop
Barely getting pop for your nickel bags
Set, jet and getting arrested by the cops
I was in Lebanon getting my ass beat by soldiers
Whether I expected it or not
I got my shoulder busted in by a fucking solider
Cuz I went deaf and I wouldn’t talk
When he was in his hood, with his homies
And they were all impressed with their little glock
Ray Swag was next to ‘em like “damn this shit carries 11 shots”
I was in Lebanon dodging AK-47’s bullets
3 buildings away from watching helicopters drop
See when you went to your first funeral
Cuz you lost your homies Terrance and Roc
Yeah, by then I had turn 20
And seen 37 of my friends and relatives get shot
See I’ll be damned if I let a spoiled American tell me what I’m not
If my boys moved to where you at in Jersey
They’d think it’s heaven on your block
If your homies came to live with us in Beirut
They’d be all huddle up together in a flock on a broken radio like
“Call the embassy and tell ‘em we’re from Watts!”
See Ars raps about shit with his imagination because it’s easy to write
But a real 3rd world country or warzone
Is something that he’s never seen in his life
He doesn’t understand what the feeling is like
To have military beat you and trap you in a cage
And leave you without reading you rights
He doesn’t understand how it is to have F16’s bomb your region
To the point that you can’t sleep in the night
I’ll be staring at my food for 7 hours straight
Cuz I couldn’t eat from the fight
To watching a grown man crying in the middle of the street
Holding a piece of his wife
Do you know what it feels to be like barely 13
Barely ever reaching, region your height
But still given an M16 and told to join the regime and go fight?
See I’ve seen it, that’s the type of shit you preach, I’ve seen with my eyes
Oh yeah I did, so next time you tell people to do that
Here’s some realer advice
Tell them young kids in ya hood they need to think twice
And before they carry fucking heats
Tell em to put themselves in our shoes for one day
To actually see what it’s like
And maybe you spoiled piece of shit Americans
Could actually appreciate the meaning of life
He wants to talk about bars, okay y’all pay attention
Cuz I’m a bar bury him with so many bars he gon get buried like bonds
I’m a Paul Bearer him
I’m like Winnie the Pooh if he was locked up, I bare/bear bars
I’m a Bahranian bar carrying barbarian
With a nut suck like a bag of ball bearings, why y’all staring?
They say freestyle’s a lost era, so the way my writtens function
Like a Hollywood film production, my hand a bar bearer (Hanna Barbera)
I can use these hands to craft bars or use ‘em to cause terror
Catch you sitting down getting this paper then “BAM!” like Margera
I’m someone you cannot see (Nazi) I’ll turn a Bar Mitzvah into a barbeque
With one bar from me, I’m like Homer Simpson’s son
I got it down to this BAR with a T
Punchlines, delivery, aggression, comedy, gun bars, multi-syllables
You get it all from me
I even freestyle a large percentage, I’m argumentative, no holds barred
I don’t got no limit, let’s see if Ars with it
He say he Watts with it, he rock a false image
They say you can’t spell “Bars” without putting the “Ars” in it
But ain’t no “Ars” in authentic, fuck Ars, I’m Arsenic
I got an Arsenal of carcinogens, I’m an arsonist, set fire to his…

[Post Battle: Dizaster]

If a real freestyler challenge you
We’ll see the ultimate warrior get all timid
And choke up like he did against (?) f-f-f-forgot lyrics
You ain’t Watts with it, you got a false image
Ain’t no spelling BARS without putting ARS in it
Ain’t no Ars in authentic, fuck Ars, I’m Arsenic
I got an Arsenal of carcinogens, I’m an arsonist
I’ll set fire to ya apartment and throw ars in it
And raid in his office & fire like Donald Trump until I got the job finished
I’ll pour gasoline on his head, gasoline on his head
Then cut off his cartilage and when the cops ask me “Who?”
I tell em it wasn’t me the guy from Reservoir Dogs did it
I give a fuck about hip hop and whoever’s hot in it
Kendrick Lamar’s the only MC in the game that dissin is off limits
Are you fucking kidding me? I don’t give a fuck about Kendrick Lamar
I’ll take Kendrick Lamar’s spirit and ball it up into a ball
And play soccer with it in my fuckin backyard with it
I’ll trap him in one of those little Ghostbuster boxes & leave it boxed in it
Toss it in the front seat of my car and drive off with it
And knock it off a cliff
While I’m doing 120 miles per miles in my moms Civic
Fuck you, you get barred to death,
Ars my bars connect like an architect
I bar your head like you got caught in barbwire
I’m over your head like a barbers breath
My bars over your head like I’m writing bars on a charter jet
Don’t get caught in that crossfire, my bars fuego to Ars Halo
That’s why we haven’t seen Ars sing yet
I got my own island of bars I call it Barbados
These bars thicker than Barneys neck
We don’t barter with bars, that’s what Arcane does
Them bar stools, not the shit that you sit on
The shit that you shit on like bar stools
You taking way more shots, cool, I’m on a bar bender
I’m complex way beyond you, I got bars, Bender
Which means I also bend bars too, I’m an Arch Welder
Before you start serving up shots you need to go back to bar school
Cuz your bars tender, you everything Ars do is off centered
You soft tendered, cross gendered, lost member from Far side
Truth is your future would’ve looked a lot better
Rapping along side of B Rabbit
When he was freestyling next to his moms ride in 8 Mile

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15 thoughts on “Dizaster vs. Arsonal [Lyrics] (2013 Rematch)

  1. All lyrics have been corrected and updated. If you see any errors, feel free to let me know. There’s no need to attack me about it, I want to be as 100% accurate as possible.

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