Bonnie Godiva vs. Young Gattas [Lyrics]

[Round 1: Young Gattas]

You really think you in the top 5 females with bars?
Like you been killing shit?
You never banged hammers or seen bars
Ya not guilty, this bitch is innocent
Fake hair, fake nails, fake shoes, but let you tell it, you the realist bitch
You were just a fill in until I took that crown off like a Dentist trip
Every time I come to the ring these bitches say, “Bars Over Everything”
I’ll admit, some of y’all have Bars but y’all don’t have everything
Y’all lack delivery, presence, humor these hoes ramble
That’s like an NBA point guard with a shot, no assist and no handle
What Chris Paul look like making plays but can’t pass the ball?
Or Rondo throwing hella dimes but can’t block out or crash the board
Ya lines set in one dimension, no lie, everything I say all fact
She say she want that championship but don’t know the fundamentals
You can’t get no play-off that
Bonnie just trying to get tutored, learn a lesson like she suck in Math
No, Bonnie it’s not a rumor, you really suckin Math
Plus all them niggas you run with, fucking fags
T-Rex type, touch and grab other niggas butts and laugh
I keep the type of shit that can fold a Mac truck in half
I’ll blast the heater at this fashionista
It won’t be Gucci when you get this custom back
She been barely surviving since she started but I’ll clap her
How you fuckin Math but remain a nonfactor? That sound backwards
You the flagrant type, be mad I make the shot and foul after
I can truly say I feel like Rudy Gay in Toronto, I out rapped her (Raptor)
You can’t account for ya losses, now you slacking on ya business bond
When that hammy ducking I’m Danny Douglas with the metal
Who the fuck you flipping on?
Soon as you off that flight I’m by your room with the blicker drawn
You a known snitch so if this hoe tell (Hotel)
Sweet (Suite) rounds are what I send upon (Cinnabon)
I’ll give you some info
On the type of shit you gon do to have to get to me
Learn how to command a crowd, you know, channel ya energy
I make them feel what I say, that’s why you can’t diminish me
Bars ain’t shit without cadence
And you like Beyonce with that fake delivery
Get ya bars up…ya dig!

[Round 1: Bonnie Godiva]

Grown man dick is something you gotta deal with
Cuz all that plastic, glass tip, strap shit
Will never equal up to no real dick!
Fellas I need y’all to grab y’all dick and say with me
So she can understand this is real shit
Grown man dick is something you gotta deal with
Cuz all that plastic, glass tip, strap shit
Will never equal up to that real dick!
Now Gattas the only reason I put your name on this card
Is to tell you I understand why you gay and I don’t blame you at all
See I could tell how you rap and how you fuck
Must be the same for you broads
You always gotta go in using ya hands cuz you ain’t really hard
So Ms. Fit, C3, K Prophet when I watch them I expect that shit
But there’s one thing that separates you from them
And honestly I don’t get that shit
But every time I see you, you look more like a bitch
And I really can’t respect that shit cuz if you (U) A G
Take them earrings out, makeup off
And put them Hitman braids back on rep that shit
But you be spitting fairytales and niggas run with ya act
Well I can tell by ya long nose that you don’t keep it real boy
So ain’t none of it facts
Plus you be wearing these weaves that look like they come with ya hat
But I get it, you playing Hansel & Gretel
You ain’t have the bread to cover ya tracks
See fuckin with Drect over time ya whole grind was missing
So I’ma teach ‘em how to manage ya
Cuz he fuckin’ up on his job description
First, quit it with all them preschool rhymes you giving
It don’t take a fan to see (fantasy) that all them lines is fiction
But you ain’t got a slip to get around I’m like ya mom’s permission
I’m thinking big stacks when I get this kidnapped
And her mom’s to wishing
I got a cure for all that I get hype shit
A little pee over this 9 prescription
So when you see them techs, book (textbook)
Before it leave you in a calm position (composition)
Since you slow, let me speed that up
Them bullets that I assign to dismiss you to keep it short
Bust and leave you in a chair slobbing and spitting
Like ya conscience missing
Cuz ya mind and ya spinal cord bind intertwined and twitching
If I say a name once I ain’t gotta mention it twice
The niggas I send to meet her would beat her within an inch of her life
So I ain’t gotta cop a gun to show you what a hit is tonight
Cuz I ain’t even gotta charge her to give her these rights
But I’m just getting warmed up with the heat, don’t be alarmed boy
I know some bullies that’s waiting to do you harm boy
So while you spit think of that twitpic and keep it calm boy
Cuz you ain’t gotta look in the mirror to see a Tom boy!

[Round 2: Young Gattas]

I used to think you was wack cuz you rap with the innuendo
Bitch ass niggas
But now I’m more disturbed
Because you jumped QB with ya tranny uncle
You really run with some bitch ass niggas
You can’t fight for yourself but wanna have bragging rights
But if you got guns ya he/she family shouldn’t have to fight
Now it’s clear, you missing clips, behind the scenes you ain’t acting right
You a dick head and pussy at the same time
You and ya uncle both Hermaphrodites
How you battled Germ Free and you ain’t even germ free?
You look infected with a few things, banana clip will smile
But the barrel growl, now the automatic having mood swings
Yes plus I can smell you have no hygiene routine
You let every nigga mash that’s why ya pussy look like (?)
Bonnie you weak you fucking nerd, try to act like you ain’t shook
You got a makeover but be buying Jordan stiletto’s off of Facebook
Bragging on ya friends wall like “they was $75, I got a deal on ‘em”
Bitch them ain’t the real 3’s them motherfuckers got a heel on ‘em
Soon as I stepped back in the ring I said, “this year mine”
You look like you co star on Bang Bros on ya spare time
I can’t respect ya squad when y’all fraud and share lines
Try to front her (frontier)
And I’ll leave you knighted (United) when I air lines
What I’m saying is we can’t compare lines
Cuz in every battle another nigga fight for you
Fuck Bonnie, I wanna battle all the niggas that write for you
Choppers out at the opera house, who coming to defend you?
I don’t gotta shoot up the venue to still see 100 Bulletz in you
Listen QB, you lightweight, calibrate ya scale
I figured the shit out
I see (C) sections in ya bars that remind me of Nuborn’s
So you’ll get left with stitches when I take this kid out
Your (?) I expose biters
How ya ghostwriter a nose diver that don’t even flow fire?
Bitch can you even freestyle?
You ain’t even flame off the top like Ghost Rider
I’m Jordan in his prime, good with the right, left
Shots falling, Bonnie will die
Chicago’s greatest of all time, it’s obvious why
That shotgun got a kick back when it click clack at ya circle
Bonnie will glide, I blazed her with 22 Rockets, now Bonnie is Clyde

[Round 2: Bonnie Godiva]

Yo Gattas, why the long face?
You look like you can disconnect ya jaw if you yawn straight
Like if I even tap that shit that’d be a strong case
Cuz in order to find a cast that fit they’ll need an arm brace
But since you look autistic I knew you’d try to use Math to shock
But I get it, I get why you mad, I done doubled y’all work in half the time
And now it’s hard to do ya numbers cuz you past ya primes
Well since them bodies you caught is overrated
It’s only right I give ya ass a 9
But quick history lesson, it ain’t a question if I raise arms
Hiroshima and Harusaki
You see what happen when they palms (napalms)
That’s straight bombs, kamikaze ya whole place gone
When it crash at ya house, hope ya life insurance with State Farm
I don’t care if ya liver die, I give ya whole side pain til you can’t stand it
But I don’t need a knife or guns to get this Trans-planted
This one hook will put you in a holy-field
But you can’t out mic/Mike me, which means you can’t out punch me
So your only way to win is to bite me
Talking bout you beast
Well we don’t X-Men so I don’t respect those threats
I’m handing out Memorial Days putting these caps at the best vets chest
I’ll treat you like that last Germ Free bitch that collect sex checks
Cuz to me y’all all porn stars, all I see is XXX
You ain’t see the way I dominate tricks?
Well I’m bout to get you whipped right up
You should’ve known not to fuck with me if you ain’t wanna get tied up
But scratch that cuz even a crackhead wouldn’t fuck
If you was drunk unconscious and dumped in Harlem
Her coochie out smell like Pookie mouth, funk and garbage
The way that fish burns (Fishburne)
You would have to double up on condoms
Cuz if you put ya SHAFT in you might come out with a bumpy JOHNSON
So I’d rather hit ya bitch first after she take G money
Give her back shots til she stutter like a (?) man, she’ll take 300
Then bring a ratchet named Keisha that’ll put you to sleep
She’ll rock and bye you in broad daylight
Before she even step a foot out the jeep
No I ain’t no Capone, but I’ll cap-one Gambino style
So watch where you walking
Before you die over them stairs/stares like Nino Brown
And I’ll be right over top, like “see that’s what ya dumbass get”
You done went and got ya dumbass killed over a dumbass rep
I would give you the finger, but it’d probably get ya dumbass wet
So sit tight and stay tuned for that third round
Cuz I ain’t finished with ya dumbass yet

[Round 3: Young Gattas]

Your initials BG but you can never be be G from what I heard, fam
You ain’t getting no cash money, so why even foot with this bird man
You let Nuborn create this character, you never paid dues
Ya birth is reversed, how you make that baby make you?
I’m feeling like the Hitman, y’all holla at me to take out bitches
And Organik, I’ll keep coming back as long as y’all pay out figures
It’s my dynasty, I’ll never pass the Roc to fake out bitches
My rhymes connect like Blueprints when I lay out bitches
Versace Versace you fucked everybody from Clips to Tsunami
Ya toes hanging off of ya heels and I feel that that shit is so sloppy
Drake wouldn’t beat at the studio even if you were Mike Zombie
She foolish to think that I don’t murder ink/inc, now this bitch is Ashanti
Check the footage I dropped too many clips, it’s apparent I kill it
I drop that OG shit so when you play our battles back
Even ya parents will feel it
Drake DM’d you to get shitted on cuz I’m the fucking best
Now that ain’t arrogance is it?
She’ll get buried in South Park with her head split in Canada like
Terrance in (?)
I got everybody in Canada watching
I’m a young Gretzski on hockey night
But she a bird that catch balls, bitch you Roddy White
Drake probably thought you was gon win, not tonight
I’ll beat yo ass before you get in that box like a hockey fight
Get ya bars up bitch, you lost this round, take it
Plus I get red with the heat, that’s pound caking
All y’all see is Bonnie left on the ground shaking
Cuz I’m known to black on the spot like Dalmatians
Ya career at a dead end you couldn’t Mapquest directions
Now get lost, I’ll bring that sweeper on stage, that’s my Apollo shit
Bonnie will lift off, you already fit for a casket
But I’m here to re-box/Reeboks like Rick Ross, Bonnie I’ll turn you out
You leave Toronto looking gayer than Chris Bosh

[Round 3: Bonnie Godiva]

Now I was gonna start this round off saying some hard shit
Like “I pistol whip hoes,” but now before I kill you
You could tell your bitch, I kissed ya bitch tho
Y’all know I save that real shit for the third, let’s get into it
I was told I lack a street feel by a midget as big as cupid
Talking bout she hold guns with a clip as big as you is
Now for y’all that believe that shit, you niggas stupid
I done picked a couple chicks up and dropped them lil chicks face first
Ask em how my street feel when they bit into it
Y’all bitches brag about the hood like it’s fun
Well let me tell you bout living thru it
Thanksgiving with little food and ya Christmas evicted, moving
Fourth of July and you stuck inside
Cuz ya moms can’t tell you if it’s a firecracker or niggas shooting
Or holding ya first gun and all you want is to
Click and shoot at a nigga or bitch you grew with
Cuz they dealing crack and you dealing with ya family that’s addicted to it
Or hoes treating ya jaw like the wall, just keep putting ya fist into it
Do y’all see the difference to it? I plead guilty, they act guilty
But ain’t none of these bitches prove it
So when you manly bitches talk like you about that life
Knowing 9 o’clock you was in the house
Eating supper on ya couch at night
It makes me wanna fuck y’all up, cuz real struggle
Y’all don’t know a thing about that fight
Cuz if you lived thru it, you would know enough to get up out that life
But I know you from the mean streets of Chicago, right?
That’s what you just said, bitch you grew up in Indianapolis
So let’s see where this chick would go if I aim where this Indian apple is
Just be a bitch and know ya place for you get put like one
And stupid, you was supposed to think like a man, not look like one
Hold on, they say I missed that 2 on 2, they right, I admit it
Debo asked me to take that 2 on 2, I said cool
He booked ya flight and ya ticket
Then some personal issues happened and I was out of commission
But then Drake asked for me and I asked for her
So it ain’t like I’m slippin, bitch that make you my daughter
You wouldn’t even be on these trips without my permission
But since you wanna cook up beef, let’s get it started
I put a four in grills, bet it make Oliver Twist, it got an orphan feel
And bitch you built like Bosh so I know you ain’t going for the steal
Both you faggots dunk grip but all of ya pumps fake, Jordan heels
The way I see straight thru this bitch is like a sonogram
Body saying you want a man, face saying Juwanna Mann
You want someone to put a ring on it with them Lebron hands
Well go ahead and take one for the team, we know ya mom can
How you damn near 30 and still trying to grow them small ass tits?
But it suits you, cuz you still need training to find a bra that fits
So stick to them Math jokes cuz you ain’t got bars like this
I been nice so you should take ya own advice and step ya bars up BITCH!

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