Cassidy vs. Dizaster [Lyrics]

[Round 1: Cassidy]
Yo I can just spit a verse at you or get personal
These clothes is so cheap
And in the Total Slaughter house you wore the same outfit the whole week
You so sweet you just like a vegan you don’t want no beef
A shell’ll make your heart go accapella, no beat
Like a nigga with no teeth, I don’t bite my fuckin’ tongue
I’ma kill this fuckin’ bum, I put that on my youngest son
I’ll bust a gun, have bullets flyin’ out the fuckin’ drum
Holdin’ up a .9 in my hand like a man that lost his fuckin’ thumb
Hold up, you look like a cab driver
The boy that pump my gas and the boy at 7-11 I buy my Dutchies from
This might sound fuckin’ dumb cause the battle I ain’t afraid but
I was kinda scared to battle this nigga here, straight up
Nah, but not cause of the rhymes he made up
Cause he might make ISIS sacrifices, strap on a bomb and blow the stage up
Hold up, I ain’t gonna do a lot of racist bars
Cause my fans be like, “Man you better kill that white boy”, and I don’t know what race you are
You straight trash, we ain’t in the same weight class
Plus you look like you wearin’ a Drake mask
But you more a bitch than Nicki Minaj witcha fake ass
My crew too gutter, my clique twist cats, come off the weights fast
Gats bang, they strapped wit’ that MAC Maine, and they hate fags
You prolly have a seizure like Lil’ Wayne when they skate past
Nigga, you softer than a premature baby ass
They kill yo’ fake Slim Shady ass, I got crazy cash
Money, but I’m so mean wit’ it
I could take that Young Mula theme and do a whole ‘nother scheme wit’ it
Like, ever since I was Young, Money was mandatory
I was lovin’ (Love &) Hip Hop like Stevie J
Mills came when they put the camera’s on me
Got hammers on me
And tonight could be the night you die…

{Fake chokes}

Damn, I forgot what I was gon’ say, sike I lied
I’ll squeeze ’til I get a Charlie horse, extended Clips
I’m name flippin’ bitch
Charlie Clips/Charlie horse/extended clips, but listen bitch
When I let the gun blow, your DNA will spray on everybody in the front row
Air (ear) you then trunk you like Dumbo
Cause the shell is sent out the gun will a long nose like an elephant
I finger fuck the gun I pop a lot, but yours celibate
But fuck the gun play, why they put a Bugatti against a Hyundai?
Some say I’m the best, fuck what the rest of ’em say, you dumb gay
You go both ways but I’m a one way
Yo, did you ever smell a skunk spray?
Well that’s kinda how a dead body smell after one day
To dispose of a guy body you Axe to defry the body
And the court of last resort to deodorize the body
Hold on nigga
I ain’t sick nigga, I’m just allergic to bitch niggas
I’m comin’ wit’ all bars, no jokes, no chokes
Cause all you do is spit a bunch of bullshit, no quotes
I’m so dope with no soap you about to get washed up
I saw what? Like ten of ya battles, you lost eight and the other two was a toss up
Do the math, if you try to throw the punch you threw at Math, aw shucks
My crew’ll shoot ya ass before ya fists get balled up
Turnin’ on music and shit
Hold up, I don’t pump fake, I count money ’til my thumbs ache
You was on Youtube and Google for month’s straight
Searchin’, so you can spit personals
But you not a boss asshole so that shit ain’t gon’ work for you
My men ride out, so when they blow ya insides out
You gon’ get bodied cause ya body ain’t reversible
Lush One gon’ have to buy some Rest In Peace shirts for you
I’m not a game bitch, I’m fire I’ll flame shit
Yeah I was with Swizz but my lane switch
Before he got with Ms. Keys I made Swizz cheese, that’s not a name flip
I know you came wit’ some lame shit, just like them other motherfuckers tried to do
You gon’ spit the same shit
Like, you might mention the car crash
Like, “You should’ve died in that car Cass'”
But them car crash bars trash
Hold up, y’all trippin’
I got some injuries that lost my memory
But I survived the crash and the car didn’t
I’m hard for the fact I went through a nearly fatal accident and lived
This tender nigga would’ve died in a fender bender
So admit to the crowd that you suck balls
I know you hate my song ‘Condom Style’ cause you be lettin’ boys fuck you in the butt raw

Listen, I know you study AR blogs, you need to get off AR balls
Oh, cause he A.R. Ab and you an Arab, you really fuck wit’ AR, pause
Look somebody caught a body with my heat
So y’all prolly thinkin’ somebody caught a body from me
But it wasn’t my beef

Listen, you never fought a murder case before
I kept it real cause I ain’t squeal and that’s still some shit that I’m on probation for
When they arrested me, they told me if I told they would set me free
But I took it trail, real niggas got respect for me
It’s easy to shoot, but it’s hard to have integrity
And cops like to make an example out of celebrities
But I’m a fuckin’ G
I guarantee you’ll never fuckin’ see a nigga that’s sittin’ in jail because of me
Check the background, I ain’t rat then and I ain’t gon’ rat now
Just know I ain’t questionin’ I don’t back down

[Round 1: Dizaster]
I said, you did some mad racist shit
Man, I’ma make this chump regret it
He said I own a gas station, well that’s just pathetic
Well since that’s what it is, I’ma pull a 12 gauge and pump lead
Since you think my pump’s unleaded
Yeah, that part
Why you tryin’ to look at me like you ain’t feelin’ it?
Lookin’ like a faggot pumpin’ your electronic cigarette
You know what rhymes with Cassidy?
Yo you be soundin’ like a fag on VladTV
This about to be a scene where I beat the fuck outta Mr. Chicken
Once again they got me back, feelin’ like Peter Griffin
You think you the spark that got this whole movement to begin?
You just a money hungry culture vulture that sees a little chicken and now you swoopin’ in
After we did all the groundwork, outta nowhere, here you come jumpin’ in
Why should we fuckin’ bring you in after we got all these views comin’ in?
Why on Earth should we welcome these newcomers comin’ in?
Bitch you wasn’t with us when we were shootin’ in the gym
Bitch! Bitch! Bitch! Bitch!
Cause ya claim of fame was your one battle with Freeway
And then you wonder why you get so much hate
Cause you like Kim Kardashian
Not Nicki Minaj and not because yo’ butts fake
But because both of y’all some fake ass bitches who only became famous because of one tape
He said he went 5000-0, but the footage does not exist
“Ayo the rest of it is all with Swizz.”
He lyin’ you know he has possession of all his clips

He’s lyin’, he still has possession of all his clips
And we would dust one of his old ass battles and put it on real quick but here’s what the problem is
None of us have the right technology to watch it with cause it’s on a floppy disc
You out your mind if you think you could leave someone like Arsonal or Goodz bodied
There ain’t a person in King Of The Dot or URL that you could body
He’s like Pinocchio
My point, he knows (nose) he’s lyin’ if he says there’s someone that he would (wood) bodyI said, we both battle rappers but the difference in the two is the caliber
Look at him, I battled all over the world from Australia, Phillipeans, Holland, UK
I even started a movement in Canada
Only time we ever seen you in a battle is in a fuckin’ studio in front of a booth
It’s not like you in the streets chewin’ up challengers
It’s one thing to insult someone and call them a studio rapper
But dawg you’re such a faggot you’re actually a studio battler
And he does this little weak ass color comparisons like “Ayo my shoes yellow like Fiji bananas.”
“Ayo, I get green like the leaves they feed large pandas.”
Bitch you get green like the green screen cause you’ve never been seen on camera
Wait a minute, you can’t say you built this platform by yourself bitch, none of us can
That’s a combined effort from SMACK, Lush and Organik the MC’s and every one of these fans
You got zero work ethic, so saying you built this under your hands
Well that’s like saying you can join Dipset overnight and become the number one brand
You know you can’t cause you never had nothin’ on Cam’
Bitch you ain’t never been in no Jungle or ever felt what that war’s like
Runnin’ around ambushing a bunch of studio mixtape rappers on sight
Catchin’ them off guard in a freestyle era where people off the top of the dome and they don’t write
That don’t earn you no stripes
Plus when you went from to “stroke ’em ‘Condom Style (Remix)’ which for me is alright
That Condom gimmick is fittin’ for your type
Judgin’ by what your past battle rapport like
You’ve been playin’ it safe your whole life
And even when you win battles it does nothin’ for you
He beat Meek and Freeway then he watched them walk off and make ten times more money than you
Stop fuckin’ with those dudes
They run Philly and you livin’ in both they shadows
Cause by your own logic, if the only goal is to have more money then technically you lost both those battles
I mean, you said it yourself, “The one who gets the most chicken is the big boss”, right?
Well you haven’t been gettin’ any chicken in the last ten years that’s why you’ve been off
Every time he goes on Instagram and sees a picture of Rick Ross
Rockin’ a long rocky chain with a thick cross
…He gets pissed off
Lookin’ down on his little two karat wristwatch like, “We got ripped off.”

He tries to get his mind off it, he turns on his flat screen TV
Goes on Channel 3 and sees MMG, once again gettin’ money, video, bitches dancin’ freely
He runs out to the middle of the street, gets mad again and slaps his beanie
Then Meek Mills drives by him in the rain and splashes him with a Lamborghini
Speakin’ of cars Cass’, somethin’ is really wrong witchu

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