Calicoe vs. T-Rex [Lyrics]

[Round 1: T-Rex]

Grown man bars, something he gotta deal with
No matter how many of them fabricated lines he bout to say
It ain’t gon equal up to this real shit
Summer Madness 3 years in a row, thanks for having me
But what I’m about to do to my fellow 3 year member
Few niggas might be mad at me
I mean I could have his body floating in the sky to defy gravity
Or have a bunch of bullets in his teeth like- fuck all that
You said ya pops was on the grind like Big Meech
He was on the grind holding his 9 with Big Meech
But we could tell that he ain’t doing no time for Big Meech
Cuz Meech got 30, ya pops supposed to have 20
Well that alone shows that he dropped a dime on Big Meech
Maybe I could be wrong, I ain’t saying he ain’t wild bro
Or a nigga that ain’t let his 40 cal go
Well he’s just a snitch at heart, a Detroit version of Alpo
The shit that Lux did was brilliant, but he kilt you with kindness
And that ain’t my flow
I ain’t satisfied til everybody on ya block go
Swat codes, whole strip filled up with 5-0
I might as well be a serial killer
Cuz first it’s a bag then a box where ya Pops go
I feel like this is something that I had to do
Matic’s shoot, couple niggas laying on the avenue
I’m a street nigga also, nigga, watch who you rapping to
I’ll have a Calicoe in a box like Summer Madness 2
He got a gun? Well that’s something that he could sleep with
My 9’s spit together, they be on that Chris & Neef shit
Shoot his block then do it again, call it the remix
Them shells will hit you and ya man just like a freak bitch
Lately all I been hearing is Big T and Clips
All that means is they want me to feed Big T some Clips
Tell Charlie I got Chicago guns, Big T clips
Them heaters press til Charlie’s on a shirt like a screen print
But back to Cali tho, I drive thru clapping folks
Flag on hanging out the window did it Cali flow
He running while I’m gunning, I’m looking like …. Where Cali go?
He home? Well I’m at his back door like the patio
Goggles on, night vision, I see him, there he go
He talk like he bout that life, but moving scary tho
Ain’t no division when I hit ‘em, but I’ma carry 4
He gon get kilt by a shell like Mario
That cig spit his wig split, you dig this?
Kill Boone then I’m going back to Cali on that BIG shit
No small guns, hit Cali with the big shit
All my niggas ready to shoot em up like a BIG diss
LNW, I ain’t Leaving No Witness
Cut him off in the middle of his round like Trick Trick
I ain’t here to speak to ‘em, I’ma put that heat to ‘em
I want blood out of every one of Cal’s spots, I’m like a beef butcher
Knock ‘em down, chopper rounds go “bublocka-blaow!”
Farmer with a scope, I got a different way to spot a Cow/Cal
I wait for ‘em to walk past, I got ‘em now
And let that Fif go behind his back like he not a round
I told ‘em when he come to New York City hang with me
It’ll be cool up top like a ceiling fan
This work I got is to die for I call it kill-a-grams
Soon as he getting out of line I let them semi’s blam
I’ll have bullets going thru you like the middle man
I mean all of my niggas crack lead
It’s like I killed a baby kitten, meaning that cat dead
When that mac spread you know it’s gon hit back head
And I’m shooting on the ground in case he lay down and act dead
I’m from a wild street, locked and loaded with wild heat
Only thing I could think about is beef when me and Cal/cow meet/meat
Well since it’s beef I’ll have bullets going thru Cal meat
“Blaow!” Left him dead on the floor, that’s how I ground beef
Dessie cock, loaded up with a steady shot
Chase him for a mile, empty a clip every block
Real killer cooking niggas like Betty Crock
Talking will get you cracked and everybody you think Ready Roc
Wait up, I don’t think they ready Roc
K, Day, Ready Roc, said all my niggas names
So you know they here to setup shop
You say a mother’s son is her prized possession, she gotta cherish him
So can you imagine how that mother gotta feel
When she gotta bury him?
Me, I jet then shoot, Jason Terry ‘em
Have my DC niggas come do it, I’ll Wayne Perry ‘em
You see I’m leaving with this nigga head
He can’t fuck with me, y’all know that… THIS NIGGA DEAD!
Fuck outta here nigga…

[Round 1: Calicoe]

Them facial expressions and punchlines… you started that
’02-’03 I was in middle school, where y’all was at?
When Smack was building this brand you was the biggest part of that!
But he brought you here to die, you bout to finish where you started at
With that being said… grown man bars is something he bout to deal with
No matter how many times he make Mook look like a bitch on this stage
It ain’t gon equal up to this real shit
Where them Dot Mob niggas at? The same niggas he gon get killed with
Knock the legos out of every nigga he build with
I put something hot in every nigga he chill with
Play ya cards right, I’m at every nigga he deal with
Let the mac barbeque every nigga he grill with
D-d-d-d-dot mob! The same niggas he gon get killed with
Let the mac barbeque every nigga he grill with
And if they survive I’m at every nigga he still with
See I just showed up to this battle on some chill shit
I could’ve showed up to this battle without raps, on some Ill shit
Brung my Hitman it be showing out that’s a Bill flip
8 rounds will take his waist down he won’t….
Grown man bars is something he bout to deal with
Dot Mob, the same niggas he gon get killed with
Let the mac barbeque every nigga he grill with
And if they survive I’m at every nigga he still with
So what you gon say? I was skinny dipping with 6 bitches
Like you the first one to reveal shit?
No Rex, you better keep them lips sealed bitch
Before you be the first one we see/sea lying/lion
In that water on some Seal shit
See I been told Randy to meet me with the glock
See y’all think he a street nigga so he can meet me on the block
Already killed Shine, after Rex, Mook should be meeting me at the top
They say the venues be packed man/Pacman
That’s why I’m eating all the dots
I had a problem with Dot Mob before
I told Rex let’s just let bygones be bygones
Now we got into it so we just let bygones be bygones
Which means we at war so I just buy guns and buy guns
They going both ways, I’m letting my guns be bi guns
This mag will bust him wide open like a freak hoe
Talking crap? That’ll get black jacked like Casino’s
You a tough guy? Try and run up on me like you Debo
I’m giving out 4 5’s like I just hit the free throw
I made yo Star Smile nigga and I ain’t even wanna take the flirt
To be honest she ain’t even my style nigga
But you married her so I’ma make her work
That bitch a whore
Even Goodz told me that pussy hotter than Jamaican jerk
I’m trying to think, if I’ma hit her with this 40 or to cake her first
For them oat meals nigga I’ll make Quaker burst
And give em the sigs/cigs like I’m signing my paper work
Fuck yo wife nigga cuz we ain’t the type to taste cunts
Let everybody from her land cum/Lancome
I bet I make-up and hit her area with 51’s, that’s a laced blunt
The bitch try to weave this clip she getting her lace front
And that bitch don’t even got no hair
So I guess Rex will get the banger and shoot
Well I’ll never believe that as long as he’s hanging with Mook
We push thru blocks, lil nigga who y’all move?
Dot Mob, a bunch of bitches, Moulin Rouge
It’s Landslide, BMF, I get 2 9’s thru
It don’t stop when we pop that, we 2 Live Crews
Excuse my French, chopper season excuse my clip
Slow it down, that chopper sneezing, excuse my clip
I make sure all of them dead, you get the news, I flip
And close his curtains like I’m trying to abuse my bitch
I been told all of you niggas not to play with me
Every fucking time I come out here I got that K with me
Some Detroit niggas ready to shoot, you know they hang with me
If you came to the city you probably wouldn’t last a day with me
This clip should give me half on the rent, nigga it stay with me
I don’t wait, I be approaching the niggas that say they came for me
Now his goons got no rooms, I’m leaving vacancies
If this battle taking too long nigga then wait for me
But I hope it ain’t Hanz in the stands that gotta wait for me
Mistakenly he was one of the niggas that thought I was make believe
When I switched shit he got on some bitch shit
You know, makeup, weave, wanted to take the leave
Soon as I seen Boone make the read
But I was on some different shit, I’m talking about taking seeds
Make em breed
Wait 9 months for they retarded as to come out and make em read
Mook was in Detroit at a club called Luckies
Acting like a pussy I started to make ‘em bleed
So next time it ain’t no love
I’ma show up to that club then make him leave
For that cash he’ll get thrown in a bag, something like raking leaves
We was gon F the nigga up
But fuck it he wanna pass so he could take these D’s
Pause, to the immature mind that line was probably OD
But if you know me and you pay attention to that line then it was OD
I make a call and they’ll Sprint to this nigga faster than 4G
When that gun on the top of ya lip, where you gon go T? (Goatee)
You know Mook manager is from Detroit, right?
Just cuz y’all be in Detroit nigga, with Detroit niggas
Don’t mean you can’t get shot by a Detroit nigga, in Detroit nigga
Cuz where I’m from, Detroit niggas even be shooting Detroit niggas
You from Manhattan why the fuck would you ever come to Detroit nigga?
That first round was crazy but it was light
The next round we gon talk about a lot of shit, ICE!

[Round 2: T-Rex]

Swave, Red, Arsonal, oh my motherfucking god
I’m glad y’all finally made it to Summer Madness but
I’m still the best nigga on this motherfucking card
Summer Madness, it’s you and me Cal
They said the person that win this battle
Is the person that’s gon have the street crown
So fuck it, I’ma rap about keys, pounds, all 3 rounds
And whoever ain’t here to hear no gun bars, please leave now
Jay-Z said he don’t pop Molly he rock Tom Ford
Well I’ll have one of my lil niggas pop you then do the time for it
This real rap, rap real, you could die for it
You better have that 9 on ‘em shit that’s the way that I’m on it
But fuck all that talking that’ll get ya whip sprayed
A right hook will blow up his jaw, he’ll need grin aid
Hell with all that fussling I’ma hit ‘em with the switchblade
Cut him til this hand get tired then I’ma switch blades
I’ll rock ‘em, I Tay Roc ‘em he get his shit caved
For spite I’ll catch him off sides like a Knick Game
Wait, Spike, court side, Knick Game
My JR’s move up Mellow/Melo then go “La-La” with them big treys
Gangsta, Rapper, Boss, I’m all of the above
That 40 be like coffee it be all in his mug
I feel like Diddy, Shine/Shyne with me, don’t get caught in the club
He play like 50 til he lose two quarters of blood
Ask anybody about me they’ll tell you Rex is official my nigga
Why lie? I’ll have them bullets connecting his ear, Wi-Fi
I’m from New York City where niggas don’t do drivebys
They just hop out on you shooting with hammers that’s bout my size
Me and his broad from Queens, that lil bitch you fuck with
We did the texting thing, I sexed her face
She called me complaining about her section 8
I got a wife, I can’t take her there it’s a respectful thing
I call her a runner up, I gotta take her to my 2nd place
And you just said you ain’t got no Queens bitches huh? Yeah right
Only reason I fucked her is cuz you love her and her hair nice
Over that freak bitch you ready to (?) like a Cam fight
For Gardner I lift that tool up and let it boom/bloom if it’s plant right
I can’t have that, that’ll get yo ass slapped
Scratch that, we already seen what happened in ya last match
But past that, I run up on him and let that mag clap
Have bullets going thru his mind like a flashback
That fif all chrome and that mac black
Both got kick like Duncan Pinderhughes from Class Act
Give ‘em 21 from that gun, call it Black Jack
Have bullets going thru his mind like a flashback
No, but fuck rap, but if we ever go past that
I’ll be getting letters from my son and eating jack mack
Big 44 make his dogs take a cat nap
40 getting shoved in his mouth like a snack wrap
Where yo cats at? I show up like, “remember me?”
Instantly, turn Cal friends into memories
Trigger squeeze, blood start jumping out his kidneys
Dot Mob show up with more arms than a centipede
Even when I’m with my moms I got them hammers on standby
I told her I’d murder a nigga’s mother’s mother for a gram ma (grandma)
I keep that hammer, I was coming here to kill him
I’ma knock on his door with that mask and that hammer
All he gon see is a Calico and a Black-Face
You’ll think him and his father was looking in the mirror
I’m a hustler, Cal, that mean I need drugs
So I fill it with blood, you try to mean mug
Mask on, I give ‘em that Halloween love
Hook em to that machine courtesy of that machine gun
Dot Mob, our bricks got the target on it
I rap like my environment cuz I’m a product of it
You see I’m living and I’m dying for it
I treat my block like a newborn ass, I’m putting powder on it
Ask about me Cal, I hustled for years, I get rid of that bud light
But I ain’t hustling beers, I leave his soul undecided up in the air
No stash box so the hammer under the chair
I bag 15 nickels off a gram, damn
So that brick be finished as soon as my work land
The Connect, he love me, he tell me that I’m the man
Selling that China White, my work come from Japan
Drama, pop him, hit ‘em with that tech
Let that llama drop ‘em and pop ‘em, rip thru that nigga vest
Let it go bla-blocka-blocka, go thru that nigga flesh
K-Shine in the background yelling… [GET THAT NIGGA REX!!!]
Dot Mob bitch…

[Round 2: Calicoe]

I can’t believe y’all just cheered for, “bullets connect in the air like Wi-Fi”
Back home I take on all beef they call me 5 Guys
Aye Smack somebody just yelled “GET THAT NIGGA REX!” from over here
Please get this bitch away from my side
But this the round I break you down
But I’m just trying to figure out if I’ma speed it up or take my time
This ain’t the Cal that nigga used to
He don’t even know what he facing now
Robbed him with no mask but he ain’t see me cuz his face was down
Don’t make a sound
I don’t wanna hear a Verb out of ya lips even if Chase around
Little man gon be turned into a middle man after he take these pounds
How fucking serious do you think I take you clowns?
So many squares in that circle
I don’t even know how they make they rounds
Basic clowns, nah they the opposite of clowns, know why I say that?
Cuz ICE was homie, he went across yo shit cuz he ain’t play that
Math was homie, he went across Mook shit cuz he ain’t play that
Ask ya homie, when you apologized he made you say that!
Them niggas only tough off of (?)
Pro Tools or in front of this camera lens
But in real life is what they won’t do
He thought he wanted Cal, but Calicoe is gon expose you
This the Calicoe fans been waiting to get a hold to
So I apologize New York City, I know I let a lot of my fans down
I got Harlem niggas walking ‘round this bitch like they the man now
That’s cuz I was flipping, dipping and dealing that tan brown
Trapping up I-75 with pills and pounds
No lie, I’m at his neck like a bow tie
I don’t fuck with Dot Mob and all the real niggas know why
It’s cuz them niggas broke and they be acting like they multi
Plus you never trust a nigga that has been put in a coma
ICE cocked his hand back far as he could and went “thoma!”
And I bet that’s the last thing you remember nigga, don’t lie!
Dot Mob consist of Rex, K-Shine, Murda Mook and that broad Daylyt
You know what’s coming, well I’ll kill Rex
Let that K Shine and Murda Mook in broad daylight
I got killers on the payroll just as long as the pay right
They love me, they living that do whatever I say life
A couple shots of henny, nigga that trigger finger will stay right
I got 2 guns/girls, it’s like I’m living that Stevie J life
Oh, you got a job? I don’t live that 401k life
The streets is my job nigga I live that 4 or 1 K life
But you gon keep getting struck, when you gon strike back?
You gon keep getting knocked the fuck out, when you gon fight back?
Them niggas you with is bitches, they ain’t like that
If you get locked up today, they ain’t gon write back
But let me guess, if them Landslide niggas approach em they might scrap
Bullshit cuz if that was the case they’d all be screaming where Ice at?
Creeping thru the club with them snubs, gloves like Mike Jack
His fam, they the niggas screaming, “I’ll be right back!”
Huh? What y’all ain’t like that?
Well fuck it I ain’t the nigga that took the night cap
Just face it, you’re not a thug, you sit in a house and write raps
Bout shit you see in movies, fantasize on who you might clap
And you roll around with a bunch of these corny niggas that hype that
My nigga this is simple, Desert Eagles, This is 50, it get you dimples
So if you speaking on titty drums don’t mention nipples
Them last rhymes was so real/reel nigga I’m fishing with you
I’m on a mission with you
Don’t trust none of them niggas Randy, they quick to get you
Rather you a Don or Diva you getting Smacked if I flip the issue
Bullets that’ll rip thru tissue cuz all of my pistols missiles
So even if one of my pistols miss you, you still get whip lash
What you ‘bout 5’2”?
And you want me to believe you do all of the shit that I do? Aight cool
Let’s say he do all of the shit that I do
I’ll pull up on the side of you like a drive thru
Shots from that window seat go from his head to his feet
He gon fall dead in the street like Erykah Badu
It’s 2 people I trust, my gun 1 and God 2
You make death threats?
You the type of nigga I give my address out to like, “slide thru”
If you ain’t there in 30 minutes I’m calling back to remind you
If you ain’t there by the next day then we coming to find you
I want ya kids, I want that bitch Star Smilez and his mom too
Cuz this gun I palm dude, it be kicking like Kung Fu
You got bands? Nigga that’s when I show you what drums do
One shot pear his kidneys collapse and a lung too
Dot Mob, diarrhea just some shit that we run thru
Gun in his mouth, it’s the procedure/seizure
That mean he swallow his tongue too
New York I’m back, look at all these bodies I brung you
And fuck that Jersey nigga Surf, that nigga’s a bum too
But let’s talk about Tsunami Surf, I mean Rajon Cox
All that tough talk, don’t fuck around and get Rajon shot
But it’s different, I got killers that show up to Rajon with a blindfold
They get Rajon John Doe’d
See I put a band on Rajon head and got Rajon Rondo’d
You feeling froggy? Then leap Kermit, I got that long nose I’m Gonzo
With that Heat, I let it ring twice I’m in Lebron mode
These guns going to the 5th grade, I let them 9’s go
You get clocked right inside of this club, nigga I’m Shyne Po
But Summer Madness is like All Star Weekend of this battle shit
And I sat out the whole year and still made it on some Magic shit
I’m even bout to get the MVP like Magic Johnson, shit I should quit
But why y’all looking at me all in suspense? I told y’all I was sick
Llama spit, zip up his bag like a pajama fit
My goons eating anything I’m rolling with a piranha clique
I don’t know why they looking, they already know what time it is
Dear Rex, you wanna be a G? P.S. we bout to find his crib
Run up in his shit and I’m knocking like where’s Randy at?
Cuz if he ain’t here, the whole house getting wiped out, Sandy’s back
I heard you just got married, we trying to see if you a family man
If you don’t pay yo bill they get clipped too, it’s like a family plan
And I got jaw breakers for all these nerds, welcome to candy land
And I get that girl for the low Rex, I’m Yandy man

[Round 3: T-Rex]

If you ask me right, Calicoe came up around the wrong niggas
The wrong gangstas, the wrong crews
They must’ve teached him the wrong things
Cuz he making the wrong moves like for instance
He came up under Lux, no, I mean Miles
Miles lost to Lux, he lost to me, he lost to Mook
Now what the fuck can Lux teach you? How to lose to us too?
This is a personal round, I don’t give a fuck about anything else
You scream BMF in ya rhymes like you built that
But do you be sending Meech packages or letters?
I know he don’t feel that
Deep down inside that probably would make him feel wack
Cuz he the nigga that said,
“It was a difference between metaphors and real rap”
Have you ever had beef and niggas had metal fours and steel bats
No barbeques but niggas putting fires to where ya grill at
You talk about dog fighting as work and you filmed that?
It’s like you trying to go to jail
And I got niggas that’s trying to get an appeal back
You scream BMF to the death in ya bars cuz niggas feel that
But it’s niggas from BMF that’s doing death behind bars
And they don’t even rap
Deep down inside I know that shit make you feel wack
Cuz yo shit was, “it was a difference between metaphors and real rap”
Yo I gave Calicoe a call before Summer Madness 3
I said yo Mook said, this is on my son
I said yo Mook said, “if ya chain Rocky then I’m coming for it A$AP”
For some reason it seem like Calicoe decided to take that
He said, “I ain’t know who Rocky was when Mook decided to say that”
But then he come to the Summer Madness stage and still say that
If you ain’t a stealing nigga, then what the hell can you say about that?
I hate all you stealing niggas, it make me wanna steal you niggas
And right after I swing on you Cal, you still my niggas
Hell with all that he say she say, lot of niggas gon die from headshots
It’s gon look like a replay
Cut coke and mix it, you’ll think that I DJ
Kill him and sell the murder weapon on Ebay
Fuck this nigga family tree, I’ll chop it down
He think he balling til his brain’s sitting out of bounds
No referee, the tech with me, what I’m popping ain’t a pill
So it ain’t supposed to feel like ecstasy
Rap’s like the drug game now cuz a lot of niggas doing it
But I see they don’t know how
Now if it’s any sign of disrespect getting sent to Rex
As far as guns you gon think I got the chip connect
Assault Rifles, DE’s, little techs
The lady in that walker from the kid on that pillow wet
Nigga from the lobby with the raw
I’ll have em sucking bullets out it like (?) was a straw
He poke on my block he getting bodied by the store
No umbrellas in the phantom, just a Shotty in the door
Soon as I ride up I’ma keep spraying his head
You’ll think his jerry curls is dried up
Beef and I’m for it, every ratchet that I own
It gotta a body I think that you know on it
The drama I’m with it
Show up to his funeral in the same clothes I had on when I did it
His man and them was hyping ‘em, so I just sprayed
I put ‘em in a blue garbage can, I recycled ‘em
Ambulance came too late to put life in ‘em
Said he suffered from gun holes and loss of oxygen
I’m like lightening, too fast to catch
One (?) but I stashed the tech
Only thing they can say is, “that bastard Rex”
Slugs hit ‘em, jerked his body, snapped his neck
Look! See I’m leaving with this nigga head
Y’all already know my slogan…. (THIS NIGGA DEAD!!!!!)

[Round 3: Calicoe]

You wanna be Macho Man Randy Savage
But too bad you ain’t a savage Randy
For them greens I’ll knockout all of ya cabbage Randy
They think you the greatest, but to me you just average Randy
He was raised by bitches so we can’t even be mad at Randy
You just a dot that’s trying to get to a spot, wanna stare
Well step it up if you trying to get to the top
Wanna stairwell step it up if you trying to get to the top
Techs spit and connect shit soon as I get to the dots
Then I’m on his kids right before they get to they pops
Like Rex quit, that ain’t my ex bitch so I won’t miss ‘em a lot
I throw a clip and a glock, that’s when I tell you that’s ya son turn
That heat start peeling at his skin, I’ma watch son/sun burn
When that heat start peeling at his skin, sunburn
Blast it and make him eat the ashes out his son urn
Not a fraction of gangsta in you niggas, not even one third
Them goons snatched you out of ya jewels, you was they Yung Berg
I remember calling (?) like, “bro, I need a stack just to show, I could blow”
He like, “nigga here you go”
Never understood why but never asked what it was for
So I tell him not, it was for an image
But he ain’t give a fuck, as long as it’s back when I’m finished
Never took more than 2, I’m lil bro, I know my limit
Put on fronts for a blemish, that mean them bitches all in my face
But they all stray away when they notice that I ain’t spend it
They come back around when they figure it’s just the beginning
But that ain’t real so that’s exactly where a nigga end it
I ain’t stingy, bitch I know you independent
Like you, I’ll throw a couple dollars for the ass
Especially for the prices it’s going for now, I ain’t even hit the stash
This some cash that I picked up off the Ave
From a nigga I forgot even owed me
I’m giving you real bars, I’m going to the old me
No hoop dreams in Detroit, who thinking bout Kobe?
We ain’t got Lebron James, bitch my city got (?)
And 26 year old OG’s who think success is a Roley
They want me to believe a black man run the nation, why?
Cuz that’s what they told me?
He the face of the nation but still somebody control him
Like a puck with this Ice, it’s still somebody to Goalie
That’s trying to block everything I shoot, that’s why I stunt hard
With hard tops and everything I coupe, they say I’m blowing money
Criticizing everything I do
They got a book and read up on everything I blew
If I was a snitch, I would’ve told everything I knew
But I live life with no regrets to everything I do
That mean every nigga I shot and every bitch I screw
Tripping threw the block feeling like I’m burying I to
Almost got it, Parker, Timmy, Danny in my new
So close to a star flowers was putting Manny in my group
But still, I guess this a risk a nigga chose to take now
In a cash where clarkers complain about the breakdown
Switching out women, just came from a different state now
And I ain’t even chase my new bitch, I got chased down
She say she want a husband, I guess I gotta make her one
But she got a love for somebody I can’t break her from
Ever since I met Mook I stayed distant with you
At least Rex tried to fight back, he dealing with the sickest issue
Cuz I heard when Math pistol whipped you
He was switching pistol, ripping tissue
And they used staples, they ain’t get to stitch you
These battle rappers need to get they facts straight before they talk nigga
I grew up in the fucking jungle, y’all got the nerve to call me a lost nigga
I’m from Detroit, Lux, you ain’t ever been there
Where niggas quick to get you wet
To walk around you need that swimwear
Y’all got police on every motherfucking corner, bitch I been here
We got niggas running up in the precinct shooting in there
If you don’t believe it, pull ya phones out and google it cuz it’s in there
We lost half the fucking police staff when he was in there
So basically nigga suck my dick
That Summer Madness stage is mine, don’t touch my shit

Follow us on Twitter @BattleLyrics

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s