Rone vs. Big T [Lyrics]

[Round 1: Big T]
Big Terrance!
I never seen ’em say “Adam” and make the crowd large
See I didn’t ask for this
Organik picked, that’s a wild card
Just send me a couple thou’ large and he a dead man, how smart?
You get Terrance and Phillip fo’ sho(w) in Canada like South Park
Now start
Ain’t you from Grind Time New York?
Now don’t nobody even see you in a battle
I get money in the garden, I don’t think Adam even eating in The Apple
Garden, Adam, Eve and Eden and the apple?
That’s the only time y’all gonna hear me repeating in this battle
I run up on him with Glock ah…
I can’t do that type style
I touch that nigga whipping the ra…
Not in this King Of The Dot crowd
Fuck that
Shalock, boom boom, blocka, blocka, BOW!
I came in this game making Glock sounds and I ain’t gonna stop now!
Y’all got Mr. Chickalaboo back in Canada
I’m Mr. Psss Ting/poutine, silencer on it, TING! Dllalat dat doo get
1 in cannon I use routines
That was a reach but I’m reaching for two things when I’m shooting
Dumping it
Switch it up like a mood ring during a mood swing, you king?
You king?
I heard you was selling coke in college to all with your rich white friends
Shit, I walk up to you like, “Hi guys.” Giving hi fives, I’ll fit right in
Learning all of they connections on how they sneak white in
Then come to/two body they connects like Siamese twins
Friends?
What could this guy do?
This guy is food
All I need is the laces on my shoe
One call, pa-poo
All you hear is “ahh ooh”
I make a call and Tyrone/tie Rone up like Erykah Badu
You better call Tyrone
Cause the respirator gonna look like you telling the truth on the operator
Flatline
When I stop doing gun sounds?
Unlikely, never
He good…but you better hope the doctors better
Cause I’ma give him the toast, they taking Patronshots together
Get at ’em/Adam for the people I sent at ’em to get Adam
I’m breaking Adam/atom down until Adam is broken down into atoms
Like, where your kids Adam?
I’m sick Adam
I’ll have my dogs sic Adam
You know why Pat used to bitch Adam?
Cause he started his Facebook page and he didn’t add him
Like…forget Adam, don’t Facebook, call or Tweet at him
I’ll beat the shit out him, I’ll point that M at ’em
Now get ma’dam, I don’t if I was Eve
I’m stepping back from the plate like they throwing a pitch at ’em
Point the sig at ’em, remove his ribs out ’em
Like God did Adam!
What you want?
Syllable rhymes?
Man the simple it’s fun
That’s easy like a Christian or nun reading a scripture or songs
There’s two pistols on me, boom, boom, empty the gun
The other one I raise without a care like an illegitimate son
Didn’t you say, “Black people don’t raise they children?”
You racist Nazi fag
Guess what, I was raised by my mom and dad
Like, I’m cool with black people
That’s until they driving fast get off in traffic and call ’em a “nigga” when they driving past
When Daylyt was doing that Pat Stay, whipping the weirdest shit
You and 24/7 was the only people cheering and shit
Shit, cheers and shit
Slapping beers and shit
Like that’s the best Daylyt we seen all year and shit
TIME!

[Round 1: Rone]
So Organik hit my phone up!
About this battle with T
Well he Facebook messaged me and I texted him and he told me to call
You know…international fees
But Organik hit my phone up!
I was taking orders and blazing quarters, he said, “How ’bout T?”
I said, “He’s outdated as a tape recorder”
I said, “What about Pat? What about Shots?
I exhausted a lengthy order
Then I said, “All right T then” I was sounding like Ace Ventura
So I took…T…on
Flipped the switch and then tee…off
Like tee ball or a tee box, you a Scrub go ask T-Boz
Oh that’s the T?
The audacity
Brutality
Calamity
You’ll get all that from me
Royce? 50? They could go H.A.M. with me
I got a profanity for any pro fan of T
Your girl don’t engage in honesty
If she say the only man that she on is T
So you need some friendship, some humanity
But you look like a sea creature, you manatee
They doubted I could pass a T
Like I don’t have the capacity
But you’ll get stretched like a legra tee
And I could do that with alacrity
This shit gon’ be a travesty
When I kill your ass in front of Travis, T
So bring half of your team or relax against me
And that’s a sure fire way to make a casualty
So I heard you almost got signed to Shady Records
Their whole staff been partial
So you flipped out on your Chicago shit
Like, “What you gonna do for my brand then Marshall?”
So they skipped him cause guys rowdy
Now I’m collecting my bounty
I’m from Philly but I run this show in Toronto, I’m Kyle Lowry
But you second in your city Terry
That’s why they call you Pippen, Terry
And to say you don’t get women Terry
That don’t take a visionary
I mean, we could find a Mormon tourist in Europe and you still couldn’t hit it missionary
No one wants to see your Bear/bare ass
That’s exactly why you single Terry/Singletary
But if beef…what you’re facing Terry
You’ll get rocked like a mason Terry (Masonary)
And if they wind up chasing Terry
He gon’ Jet like he Jason Terry
But I could keep it on Chicago shit
Like where Urlacher played
We could think, Sammy Sosa, a sosa who packed his ‘cane
Or I could him on ice faster than Patrick Kane
Then grab some more rice [?] that are in Patrick’s chain
You got no H for jabbing veins
You ain’t slinging crack cocaine
You ain’t seen a brick or a nic’ since Patrick played
You ain’t have Blue Magic since Magic contracted AIDS
You wouldn’t draw on me if I was half a page of anime
You wouldn’t draw on me if I was a connect the dots handout
You wouldn’t draw on me if I was passed out in a frat house
I mean…
You have an imprint in your fat from the weapon on your waist
When you smile, it looks like your lips are being stretched across your face
You fucked up on Total Slaughter because of the glares of everyone there
Let me guess, it wasn’t the first time you couldn’t take the stares/stairs
And when I heard you got shot…I got jealousssssss
I mean, I’m glad you’re not out on the streets dead
But if I got popped with a couple shots it would do wonders for my street cred’
I mean, who knew the Michelin Man was from Michigan Ave?
Too tired to walk, too fat to sit in the cab
And this is dinner for me
To you dinner’s a snack
You got me G? Colostomy, I got this shit in the bag
Bro, after these fireworks, he’ll be calling up life alert
Getting a ride to church, reading his favorite Bible verse
His wife will squirt and then leave him after I make him bite the curb
He’ll get a career and have to wear a Hawaiian shirt and tie to work
And the boss at his new office
I bet he, ain’t gon’ fuck around
So you’ll have to change your name from Big T to Big Button Down
And what kind of future is that?
What kind of lose is that?
When you’re forever known as “The dudes who’s fat who used to rap.”
Quiet, let’s go bitch

[Round 2: Big T]
{Big T snoring}
I fell asleep in my last round
It felt like I was in the camel clutch
Where Drake at?
Cause I’d a ask him, I didn’t hear it but, did he land a punch?
My bad, I’m just saying that I’m being real with him
I don’t got that feel with him like Lil’ Wayne…Baby
If it wasn’t for that Cash Money I wouldn’t want to deal with him
That long round but I’m still winning
I put your face on the ground
I send you to a land of angels, halos and clouds
Oh, everybody in shotgun think it’s a game
Until now I get mad and intercept a bullet
That’s when the whole game turn around
Welcome me back
But I’m at the King Of The Dot pissing on welcoming mats
Aye, what’s your obsession with battling black rappers from Smack?
Like it’s suppose to help you progress up in rap
You say “black people don’t raise their children.”
You saying it’s a fact
But another fact is that battle with Pat was gay as fuck
And ain’t no questioning that
I teach you How To Be A Player, where Bill Bellamy at?
I’m sexy and fat
Yo, why you and Pat keep texting me that?
Bullets invest in a Mac, fuck loading a clip
It’s like I could load a jet ski in that
Wayne Gretsky is back
Slide on this bitch like I’m trying strike a match
But she never wipe her snatch
Her puss smell like something crawled up and died in that
Thank God I’m back
Battle rap crisis back, beat me?
It’s like women’s rights activists signing a petition to make Ray Rice come back
I’m nice at that
And I pull up to the light it seems
Go ‘head you want to fight but I don’t do the Tyson thing
I’d rather pull up in a whip, FIRING
All you see is that bitch, pop out a TV like The Ring
Style on ’em
You see T at Penn State with a fifth of Jaegermeister
Half pint of drank provider
From one of Drake’s suppliers
Snoop Dogg vaporizers
Spray this guy and have a K hole tranquilizer
Before they announce that pussy with a W and I ain’t imitating Plies
You ain’t as nice as mine
Trying to rhyme in this column and I’m like Columbine
A life’s demise
Everybody you like were guys
I still got the steel on the side like Johnny 5
Two nine’s on me Mike and Live on 99
Don’t style in this
I’ll beat your Mobb Deep underground, Alchemist
This trigger finger?
It start developing callus
It don’t work out/workout, paralysis
If he move it’s miraculous
Clips? I load a spear in it, Goldberg tackle us
We’re savages, blood drinking Draculas
I bet your idea of an Ebola vaccine is
“America need to stop letting those damn Africans”
You want cold war?
I’m a cold war practition- quiet!

[Round 2: Rone]
That was a cool little round bro
Really I’m not that mad at you
…mad at cha
At the beginning of the round you were snoring
That’s called sneep apnea
(Sleep apena
I gotta learn how to talk)
Fuck spitting for a civil war I’m dicking up your chicken raw
I’m longer than the pinafore and stronger than a Minotaur
What you want friction for?
I’m savage as the Chickasaw
He gonna show where them cans is/Kansas?
It’s a road trip to Wichita
If you got the heart for this, a double dose of Lipitor
If you on the block then it’s Madden with the Brickasaw
And I ain’t talking Ferguson and I ain’t popping shots
So what you mad at me for dawg? Man I’m not the cops
But I can play the judge for this irrelevant geek
Cause if Eric Gardner chokes you won’t hear a sentence from me
I mean…
I’d love to kill him on a beautiful Sunday like today
Caskets up with the bouquet
Or maybe get him on the next day, have him stuffed in a suitcase
And if I can’t get him then, I give a fuck what your dude’s say
He’ll be just like Makonnen going up on a Tuesday
I’m fucking…
You souffle soft, I’ll fillet you for loose change, you’re too gay
Fucking get booked, you would sing off keys, that’s fucking Robert Goulet
I’m Bobby Boucher
Packing a hatchet the Sioux made
I’ll fucking scalp ’em and sell them dreads as a fucking toupee
What to do with this nerd?
Takes an unusual verse
How to befuddle a spitter who makes music with words
But I’m from Philly, you know I fuck with the root of the…
The fucking word of The Roots
But today I think I kill him with the root of the words
See I’ve never been im-pressed
It’s nothing I’ll im-ply
My raps make him in-vest
You barely get in-vites, I don’t say it in jest
I’ll still put you in flight
You’re the shit that they ig-nore
My shit make ’em ig-nite dawg
If you in court you raising your in-dex
If you in deep you probably gon’ in-dite
Only whore on-line you spinning on Pintrest
You never been a gangster who’s cutting them pin stripes
But when I spit my shit it’s cleaner than Win-dex
But he can’t even [?] cause his chunky ass wind pipe
So I don’t give a fuck if he out from the mid-west
His delivery is as gentle as a fucking midwife
Bro I can’t even hang with T cause son’s stressing
He thinks everything is a drug or a gun reference
Like I said, “Molly, Miley and Nina’s in the back of the whip.”
He said, “Pills, coke and a nine?” I said, “No. Actual chicks.”
If I say “Crystal and Mary Jane” he ain’t thinking names of women
If I fucking talk about my cell plan
He’s thinking about escapes from prison
Listen
If I say “ratchets” I’m talking about tools
If I say “cans” I’m talking about booze
If I’m gon’ ride it’s probably a cruise
If I got white it’s the sock in my shoes
But you acting like your squads snapping
You all wood like a log cabin
And that big arm like Tom Savage
But my strategy is John Madden
You got sound effects in your rounds well then homie you should stop rapping
We in Toronto, Capo, leave it to Scott Jackson
But I mean…
But, but me and T…fucking…
Did brawl once the fucking sound effects were crazy
We fucking went all out it was right in front of his lady
I mean he came out with that chic chic trying to let that big thing ring
But I came back with the sword I was like shwing shwing shwing

[Round 3: Big T]
Uno Lavos wouldn’t cross the boarder to get work from you and he Mexican, that’s messed up
J.C. wouldn’t dance in the ring with you
E.Ness wouldn’t give the Bandz up
So you saying stuff like, “Why these black people wanna battle me?”
Man shut the hell up
You like Brad Pitt in Fight Club
They got you out here looking crazy beating yourself up
Help us?
What happened when [?] at your dome?
It was your black friends buddy that stood up like, “Leave that kid alone!”
See, you didn’t care if our dads weren’t at home
Their loyalty was like your real name
If needed them fam to get ’em/Adam for Rone
Damn wigger
You lying in your voice
You playing Simba
Your N.W.A. CD skip last night at the hotel and I heard you saying “nigga”
I heard you, you was saying “nigga”
Scalp you with a scalpel, approach me and I’m spraying ya
Have Adam’s apple surgically removed like a transgender
You a puss homes
That battle with Pay Stay wasn’t gay, it just look wrong
Like, are y’all fucking for real?
No, are y’all fucking for real?
He had you took home
You talking loud, that silencer on that {chic chic} clone
Without tux, you finally get a tie or two to match
When I go at Pat Stay and Rone it’s on
It’s time to stop the show
Breaking news
I knew you was going to come with the typical practical jokes
April Fools
I’m spraying tools the rules that the Navy use
But this ain’t what it’s taking to
You gonna come to get popped, Taken 2
Save the ooohs
This round, I take the boos
I’m playing in school like oooh, “he got them new Jordan 2s? Let’s take his shoes.”
We got older, put mother and daughter in a sacred room
One live, one die nigga, make ’em choose!
Fuck it, kill yourself for all I know
I point that can’ at her, that big boy is Ontario
But there ain’t no where to run though
Now that was a reach, I ain’t gon’ lie
But I’m reaching for another gun pronto
Drake Started From The Bottom beat, you gon’ get it from Mahalo (a hollow)
See, we all know a whole bunch of shit that you could say about me
If I was you, I’d have all my shit took away
You could say
“Big T, what you know about studying for a test that’s a month away?
You had to go to school, your dad made you read a book a day
The whole book a day
No B’s, you only could get A’s
Cause if you didn’t get good grades you got all your privileges took away.”
You could be like, “Big T
What you know about being mad when McNabb couldn’t play
Cause if it was a mistake my dad used to beat my mom ass and I had to look away.”
Like, “He didn’t mean to fumble that last play it was a mistake.”
All you hear is {bbbbbrrr bbbbrrr clap clap} “Leave her alone dad for goodness sakes!”
What you know about Adam having the same face as mine
Cause I’m Adam junior and he’s Adam senior he had the same face as mine
So if I lose the disgrace is mine
So first place was mine cause you had somebody there to motivate you every time
I wouldn’t know about that
QUIET nigga!

[Verse 3: Rone]
Yo check
So I worried they’d paint me simply
If fat jokes were all I’d bring for T
But he’s the first really fat guy I’ve battled so…this is big for me
I mean, these fat jokes are mad heavy
Y’all might get mad at me
Shit, I might lose all my fat friends, oh wait I don’t have any
So if regular fat people wear big tees with their bathing suits
You take the next level and probably bathe in suits
I mean I’d clown him about his outfit but his face looks like it’s drowning
You don’t have a lazy eye you have a lazy face around it
You look like the Teflon Don if he was covered in Teflon
Or a walrus who dipped all of his blubber in Exxon
Fuck a bug, he’s killed any mammal he’s stepped on
If Biggie saw this piggy he would think he was Dead Wrong
I mean as far as food, what we got today?
Lobster face? Pasta plate?
He’s black and Islamic, what the fuck is he? A chocolate shake/sheik
I mean, you’re too fat to walk over subway grates
But you’re in the hall of fame with Jared as the Subway Greats
I mean, fucking your blood pressure is higher than the price of a brick
You are addicted to steaks if we’re talking life on the strip
We would need a whole tray to put ice on your wrist
And your fingers are too fat so you fucking type with a stick
But fuck jokes, I’ll use reality to show that they’re lame
(REAL NIGGA SHIT!)
The joke would be you probably need two seats whenever you sit on an airplane
The reality would be if you sat next to on me an airplane it wouldn’t ruin my night
It wouldn’t ruin my flight
It would ruin my life!
Him coming down the aisle with hard steps and short breath “Please God do not let him sit here” I’d be praying with palms clenched
Sit down and your drenched from your breast to your forehead Fuck two seats, lard fest could only fit on a park bench
In case of emergency landing he’d need an extra large vest
If he has the window seat, the sun’s eclipsed by your chest
And I’d be hard-pressed to stay Meta like Artest
Because this guy can’t keep his side fat off of the armrest
I mean…
I mean it’s a tight nice little package but I promise all that’s real
You are inconvenient to be around, how awful does that feel?
I mean…
I mean his gains could be alleviated
And his pains could be abbreviated
With a diet and exercise maybe tying to be creative
It’s really basic but the only time he’s creative
Is making tacos with ice cream as a freaking meat replacement
He’s got a million ways to sweeten cakes
But not one way to lean his face in?
Always room for cheese and bacon
But let me guess, the greens were taken?
But people treat it like it’s a disease a sickness to be mediated
Misleading statements from the media they deviate it
Like “it’s fat shame” and I can’t take it
I’m trying to decrease your weight and that benefits you
So you could show some appreciation
I mean that fact that you’re fat
Says so much about you as a man
No long term goals, no perseverance, you can’t stick to a plan
You only care about yourself, you’re stuck in your selfish ways
And none of your family members care enough about you to help you change
But they say, “Big T’s the man” like that’ll help him magically
Oh course you’re the man dawg, you motherfucking have to be
You have to be cool or funny just to get an advantage
Otherwise you wouldn’t have a single friend on this planet
I mean, I mean, fucking…
Fat people make less money, they get promoted less
They’re more likely to be alone or suffer an early death
And I get pissed cause you have kids and your children are gonna grow
And it’s a tragedy cause being fat is all that they’ll ever know
When your daughter was born you probably weighed 355 pounds
If you walked a mile a day since then, he’d be skinny by now
So I don’t give a fuck if I lose today or fucking lose the race
Bro you can’t win at life until you fucking lose the weight bro

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