Charlie Clips vs. Hollow Da Don [Lyrics]

[Round 1: Hollow Da Don]
I wanna let y’all know, I wasn’t even gonna show up today
I got some bad news this week
My grandmother got bit by a bee, y’all
It was one of them East African bees, it’s not funny
But when I heard this was for y’all I showed up, so let’s get it
I said… Charlie, Charlie, Charlie…
I’ma be calm, Charlie, I ain’t gon’ lose my voice
“You’ll get engaged with the rage!!!”—I ain’t gon’ do that, boy
This is battle rap; anything past, we can scrap for that
Don’t stand here talkin’ between my rounds, we got Smack for that
If I say somethin’ hot, my nigga, I don’t want no dap for that
Oh, you just wanna be friends and play with these words…
Well, they got apps for that!
Nigga, fuck your entourage! This for that parmesan
Since the boss been gone
You turn to Scott Baio and put Charles in charge? NAHH!
‘Cause when Charles was gone
He was dissin’ you, sayin’ that you owe eight
I got double that versus Surf and bought an Audi ’08
He seen my car and was like, “You got all of them dollars?”
I know your persona, don’t hate
Oklahoma, Nevada: your initial state was the envy… okay
So I can stand here and laugh with him
Or I can kill him with the cold face
‘Cause you took my bar verse Ars about brushin’ me wrong
And flipped it with the Colgate
That ain’t what the Don say
Who gave you bad directions? You lost, took it the wrong way
Now I got somethin’ that I owe clips
So I load up with the old clips
First two was hot, and the third got stuck like the old Clips
You know the old Clips that stumbled in his old clips
Then said they owe Clips? — Oh, Clips!
You stumbled all 2013 and now you claimin’ you the best, nigga?
Since they gas him I’m supposed to be Pat, nigga
Well, vrooom… I’m a vet, nigga!
And you X-Factor, not ‘cause your priorities set, nigga
‘Cause every chance they get, the fans make your head bigger
My first gun was a .38 revolver
I got that from my nigga Roger
My point is, before I even knew about Clips I was already poppin’
And just ‘cause it was GrindTime I didn’t stumble out
Or come up here with the I-I-I got you, the-the-the mumble mouth
Sonic the Hedgehog game
If I get hit on this stage, rounds keep comin’ out
You barely have thirds!
At that point you shoulda got fired from it, son
I see you lazy like McGrady so you’ll never retire number one
He’s so redundant and simplistic
Y’all all know that one Clips bit
Where he goes into a scheme and you can predict it
Way before he spits it? He’s like…
“I’m in that flyin’ Spur, then I’m dunkin’ in my homie’s Charger
Got twenty, take your top off, that Ginobili spark ya
My other gun, Kawhi Leonard, this other homie darker”
Then he’ll say somethin’ about point guard, a 9
And what y’all see comin’? (crowd predicts: Tony Parker!)
Okay, okay, y’all with me!
What about when he said, “I’m way better, and way clever”
Say somethin’ about Pacquiao or ring
And what y’all see comin’? (crowd predicts: Mayweather!)
See what I’m tryna say?
Them bars like the next exit off the highway
They know when to get off, you tell ’em it’s comin’ a mile away
But he does have fire writtens, he got fire writtens
Like when he said “without Clips, Hollow ain’t killin’ shit”
But if you freestyle half your battles
And there ain’t no fire in pen, then what good is Clips?
I ain’t sayin’ your shit wack
But bro, it’s the same move every time you kick that
Setup, punchline, setup, punchline—that’s how you spit that?
Just a candy rapper with four bars: you a…
(Crowd predicts: Kit Kat!) — see how easy it is to predict that?
The aim gon’ change his range
The range gon’ change the bang
The bang gon’ change his frame, the frame gon’—
Boy, yo’ bitch ugly as hell, my nigga
I mean his bitch is just aww
You like battle bitches, with gun lines? Bitches with bars?!?
Rule number one: this is a business
And the mix is a flaw, I don’t mix it at all
You won’t hear a single drop ’bout I: no Kendrick Lamar
But he went from Ash Cash, now you hittin’ Couture
Nigga, for bands I wouldn’t smash that: no expensive guitar
She the one against O’fficial, dressed like a dyke, right?
Hair everywhere, Scary Spice like
That bitch look like Whitney on the pipe night
Or Tina after Ike fight
But you gettin’ stacks now
Get her hair done, put that hood boog in Fendi
Oh, I guess it’s your lady’s luck
We never seen her look good with Remy
And you know what’s the saddest shit?
I’ve been to they crib, when he mad at her and she mad at him
It’s hilarious, ‘cause instead of arguments they actually start battlin’
She be like, “If I come in and you textin’
I bring the TEC’s in, and start shootin’…”
And he’s like: “Shut up, bitch! You losin’!”
She storm out, go to the kitchen
She like, “Charlie, you ate my food again? Charlie! Charlie!”
He in the back talkin’ about “Guess what room I’m in!”
But alright, alright… I ruined it…
Bro, third round against Rex, you said the truest shit
But please don’t come up here and act like your moms tough
‘Cause I bet a thousand large bucks
That in real life my mom will fuck your mom up
A’ight, a’ight, let me put this up, let me settle down
What he need to beat me…
I’ma save that for the second round, L.O.M.


[Round 1: Charlie Clips]
Charlie Clips versus Hollow… Lux, what up? Mook, what up?
I’ma kill one of y’all niggas this fuckin’ summer
I like how you talk that shit
Here’s where it goes down like a fuckin’ plumber
I’ll body every nigga on your side
Put ’em in sleeping bags: that’s a fuckin’ slumber
And if your mom do hook on mine?
Cool, we gon’ jump your mother
I knew I shoulda skipped you and went straight to Lux
‘Cause after that Total Slaughter performance
Your career was kinda dead to me
But a little voice in my head said “Nah, you Clips, and if you gon’ be the top gun, why not add a hollow into your legacy?”
Plus, I wanna see what’s the hype about
‘Cause if you rap like this
Then how can anybody think you better, B?
Your voice hoarse, you leave niggas sleepy
Hollow, that’s the reason you’re not ahead to me
You ain’t beat grey hoodie Lux, you had the fake Black Panther
With niggas in the background grippin’ a shotty
How you struggle with fake activists
But lean is what you sip for a hobby?
The work I put in is rape, it’s not meant for a Cosby
Burberry shirt: my lines gotta go over your head first
To see they meant for a body
My third round against Rex? One of the best ever
My whole block was movin’
Niggas ain’t even askin’ about my pops
They askin’ me how the Dots is doin’
I tell them niggas Shine shinin’, Murda murderin’
Shit, I think the Dots is movin’, I ain’t wanna kill Rex
But when a Dot get in your face, you gotta oxy-cute him
And what you gonna do? What you gonna do?
Rap about my pops like he did?
Pull out paperwork, Hollow? I’m not shook
Nigga, I haven’t seen my father in 20 years
But still know how my pops look
My real name is Charles Brown, and I be lettin’ that stock cook
And if he try to Dee Brown, I will bang on him and not look
Librarian: put the silencer on — shhhhh! — if you do not book
Ahh, it ain’t no biggie
‘Cause you gon’ get a round more than a Pac hook
I’ll call my brother like, “Bring the K, D!”
And then Hollow give us that shock look
‘Cause he got a feeling, the thunder about to get fired on the spot ain’t Scott Brooks
I said listen, Hollow, if your bitch is fine
I’m bringin’ two fives to split your dime
Chiropractor at King of the Dot: I’m tryna bend her spine
Rondo workin’ out in the gym: that’s the biggest 9
Shot the shit in East and the nigga died in Pacific Time
I’m loco and bi-polar, ‘cause I don’t celebrate but I wave toast
I’ll write Hollow is that nigga and that bitch on the same post
If you try me off the Hennessy
Then I hope you keepin’ your bae close
‘Cause this little shit sing at niggas and bitches: it’s Dej Loaf
Put a sock in it, I didn’t come here to show dude love
Arms out, and everybody in your squad get it: that’s a group hug
Recyclin’, I put the old beam on the new snub
The ray and the arsenal workin’ together better than U Dubb
This is a part of war
I’m throwin’ smoke bombs at your apartment door
Niggas coughin’, they ain’t feel wheezy this much since Tha Carter 4
Big shit barkin’, it’s soundin’ like a retarded dog
I’ll let this shit pow, brother, it fuck around and mark us all
Fab put his shooters in the Uber, my whole team is in a rental
Window down, they arms out
But they ain’t reachin’ for your demo
I had to name the pump Ike, you gotta squeeze it just a little
Or the kickback will surprise you like Tina in the limo
I said on some G shit, Hollow, you my nigga
But I need to know what the fuck is up
You had the chance to put battle rap on top of mainstream
But then you fucked it up
It’s like every round you got dryer and dryer, man, you fuckin’ suck!
How you was able to clean Big T but couldn’t wash Budden up?
Your third round better be your best round
‘Cause you not gonna survive another day
Every time I rap, pull out your phone and text your mother “Pray!”
‘Cause she gon’ call Smack, Beasley
And ask God why we took her son away
And the sad part it’s only five hours left ’til Mother’s Day
Mrs. Dinnananon — wassup, baby?

[Round 2: Hollow Da Don]
My nigga, that round was cool
But yo’ bitch still ugly as hell, my nigga, we see this
How you a top tier nigga with a PG bitch?
Alright, alright, I know y’all don’t wanna hear this
Enough about this nigga bitch
Let’s talk about how this nigga bitched on a nigga dick
For a year tryin’ to battle, I had bigger fish
Needed an extension when I got Loaded
I wasn’t worried about little Clips
All my battles been main events
All types of rounds, I raised the net
Since Clue was makin’ tape cassettes
And Jae Millz was in that Avirex
Nigga, when I came in and went in, he came and went
So let’s place a bet, and when I win write R E S P E C T
When you make the check, nigga, pay respect!
I said, these fans like to hop on dick
But we don’t do that, we all riders
I hate to use this bar during a crisis
I gotta make the crowd riot, so I’ma be more fire
I got y’all… about a stolen scheme
He gave to another battle rapper but originally stole from Queens
It was about a vid, copped a Canon and shot one on 5th
It was Loaded Lux, T-Rex, Head ICE and Charlie Clips
{DJ scratching noise}
Let me rewind it, this about to be my hardest shit
Keep the cannon cocked, I only need 1 shot when the 5th on me
I don’t care if Lux loaded
It go through Rex T, hit ICE head, then clip Charlie
I coulda just came through and put two in his abs
And he was standin’ there lookin’ at shit he never knew that he had
I’m hyped shootin’ belly, see me in Nebraska
I’m sayin’ if he droppin’ dimes to get me to Rico
I’ll have him eatin’ this banana
My man put away the ox, so it’s the Tommy he gon’ blast at y’all
Me, Nas or T-Boz: ‘cause I don’t know how to act at all
This Shotty ain’t a battle rapper or a passenger seat
This nigga musta made a mistake if he said he askin’ for beef
He left Ruby Tuesday to go to Friday’s to get a sundae
You just ate half of the week
But on Sundays he a changed man, Charlie sits and stays home
It’s nothin’ religious, that’s just usually when Chick-Fil-A’s closed
Charlie, you gotta bring somethin’ better and that’s similes
These burners and gloves go together: that’s chemistry
I had an epiphany, they said before this battle shit
He was a Harlem nigga with no bread
I said, “A Harlem nigga with no bread?!”
They said, “A Harlem nigga with no bread.”
I said that’s like a BMX with no pegs
A frat party with no kegs, Friday with no Craig
A Harlem nigga with no bread?!
They said, “A Harlem nigga with no bread.”
I said, that’s a Rastafarian with no dreads
A goalie with no legs, a Cali nigga that smoke regs
A Harlem nigga with no bread?!
They said, “Yeah, he don’t even got a business or a LLC.”
Do you got an ENI number or a tax ID?
Oh, the only thing you own is CharlieClipsTV
See, that’s ‘cause he don’t got no will, no drive, no ambition
I seen all the money this man’s missin’, I got a confession
See them “sike I lied” t-shirts y’all bought outside? My man printed
I seen all the money that fam missin’
I’m like, dog, I went and got it copywritten
Your whole slogan, so now if you wanna use it
You gotta pay me some damn chicken
Boy, you do bad business!
I actually got employees, you can come work for me
And in turn, my nigga, you get that work for free
I’m not showin’ his incompetence with no cruel intentions
Own equity, it’s no equity in views and mentions
But if it is, y’all went in on a Charlie Clips’ stock
And made a huge investment
But now that I’m givin’ you the business
Watch them start losin’ interest
My nigga, you gotta start thinkin’ like a boss
Or I’ll off his space and leave his achievements on the wall
Wait, you from Harlem, you ain’t got no damn bars
But you flippin’, put your man on
Damn, pause — wait, now I’m soundin’ like Cam’ron
Y’all Ghostface twice the killer she died, I was knowin’ that sick
I’m the type to overdose with the shit
I challenge you to battle without ghosts and shit [?]
If son back out, I black out, my soul’ll eat Clips
I know y’all like damn, I was fuckin’ with thun
See, Smack was frontin’ with funds
Is DNA your brother or son?
I know y’all like it’s crazy how I’m comin’ at son
But his name’s Clips, it’s only right I put him under the gun
By the way, your weight fluctuates like a boxer goin’ up in weight
You’re fat big-boned and you’re big fat-boned the other day
I no longer know what the fuck to say
I went by his crib, he was eatin’ a buttered steak with a cup of cake
That wasn’t a dumb mistake
I didn’t mean cupcake, he was actually drinkin’ a cup of cake
Worry about the bars, but don’t worry what I got on
But if you is worried,
Sike I lied, I’ma say it now!
Sike I lied, I’ma say it now!
In order to make that happen
You’ll have to run in the Vatican church, ransack it
Grab the pope, saran wrap him
Back hand him like Sam Jackson
Cremate his damn ashes with no damn hassle
Then pull it out the oven and make a sand castle

[Round 2: Charlie Clips]
Second round was all jokes for you, huh?
Crack another fat joke and I’ma go for your jaw
I’ve been in the streets, they know I’m gutter without bowlin’ a ball
Two plus two, remember, I’m predictable when I’m holdin’ this 4
Sike, I… wait, I don’t own it no more
I had a long talk with D the other night
This bitch walked by with a mean butt
And I was thinkin’ like, “Damn, I gotta bag her
Fuck raw and catch a mean nut
D said “Yo, can I hang?”
I said for sure, you know how we do these sluts
Oh, y’all think I was talkin’ about DNA
Man, I’m talkin’ about deeez nuts — GOT EEM!!!
Hollow, crack a smile, it’s just a joke, try to save your pride
Shut the fuck up with the boos
Hop in the whip, we about to take a ride
I gotta take y’all on a trip, ‘cause a couple of niggas I thought was cool with me started takin’ sides
Cortez, what up, nigga? Come here, boy!
You know I know you personally, in the streets you real
But in this situation you a fuck nigga
‘Cause I heard you had a couple of words behind your boy back when Math had got jumped, nigga
You know what’s crazy? When you ain’t had no crib
I was there to move your shit out the trunk, nigga
Hollow ain’t never let you stay at his house
You lived with me for a month, nigga — this is real facts!
You know what’s crazy? I guided you through your whole career
I held you during that whole Hollow bid
Sad part about it, he come home and you jump in his arms, “L.O.M.”
NY did way more for you than Hollow did
He moved to Orlando — question, do you even know where Hollow live? If this is really your man
Give me the address right now to Hollow crib
Exactly! Damn, you said it type fast
Well, let me do it over here, ‘cause God about to strike his ass
But not just you — D. Chamberz, ahh
You mentionin’ me in all your songs
Sad part is you don’t even know how to rhyme
You used to call me seven o’clock every morning
Beggin’ me to help you get on your grind
I got more features with you than all these niggas combined
So I’ma be the first to tell you you suck
And you’re never gettin’ signed
I know what y’all thinkin’, y’all niggas wanna boo niggas
Or a nigga who battled Surf and started makin’ it rain?
Y’all love me a minute ago, now y’all gettin’ as fake as his chain
The problem that kills me is y’all niggas big Hollow up
And y’all wanna soup him like y’all wontons
Y’all ain’t with him for real
Y’all only with him for the chips like Bon Ton
LOM, NYB, you always got y’all pom-poms
But where the fuck was y’all
When he was gettin’ washed up by John John?
John John walked in and he said “L.O.M.”
Then swung at him right at the door
But you fell, I got a multiple choice on how you got on the floor
Is it A) The floor was slippery, you fell inside the club?
Is it B) When you grabbed him you realized you not a thug?
Is it C) It wasn’t lean, it was some other kind of drug?
Hey, John John, what was it?
(John John Da Don: It was D, nigga, all of the above!)

[Round 3: Hollow Da Don]
With the Math situation, we ain’t sayin’ you did not care
We ain’t say go to L.A., shoot everybody, bring a Glock in there
But bro… you is big as papa bear…
You coulda grabbed Dizaster or Aktive
And stopped ’em and been like, “Not in here!”
And he tried…
But once them L.A. niggas started swingin’, you got outta there
Your heart was pumpin’, my nigga, you know what’s funny?
Besides the fact he the only Harlem nigga that comes bummy
He’s so excited to get his little twenty thousand
And I’m still spendin’ Lux’ money
Even though money don’t matter here I’m just here statin’ the facts
Clips, this is the most you ever been gave for a match
And bitch, I’m not Lux, you better thank me for that!
‘Cause before this, I know what happened
Me and Joe had a classic!
But I never give y’all the insight on my life
So let me tell y’all what happened
What you know about preparin’ for a battle
When your grandmother bit by a bee?
Or, or, or, the very same day of the battle, you forget your ID
Real shit, no excuses!
Wait, that ain’t me, that’s what this nigga will do
If he unprepared, during the battle he’ll give an excuse
Embed it in the fans’ heads, they can bicker and use
Over “Did he win or did he lose?”
Like, Clips, what happened against Charron?
Oh, my nigga, that day of the battle, my nephew caught the flu
Well, what happened against Illmac?
My nigga, that very same week of the battle
My daughter-in-law turned two
I gotta throw a surprise party, it’s real shit I’m goin’ through!
Niggas like, “Come on, Charlie, quit with the sobbin’!”
You think these niggas wait hours
And pay $100 to come in here and hear another nigga problems?
Now I’ma pull up on the block
I’ma, I’ma freestyle off the top
Sike, I lied nigga! I couldn’t stand up here and gave y’all a sloppy freestyle if I tried, nigga
Wait, this is genius, I can do this every time, nigga
I get in a bind, nigga
Just say “Sike, I lied” and rhyme “nigga” — my nigga!
It’s so see-through, then Star popped a clip
Called you a snitch, but Clips ain’t pop shots
You was standin’ there dancin’ round questions
And knowin’ that’s what got your pop locked
Let’s keep it a buck, Rex said he was with Alpo
And his pop flossed in a Lex coupe
So if Rex was with Alpo and your pops was
It was a boss for respect too
But there’s somethin’ else about you and Alpo, my nigga
There’s somethin’ more that connects you
Ah, it’s so special… y’all both came up of killin’ a nigga
When he was mournin’ his nephew
Snitchin’ in your DNA, so DNA, if you start sellin’ coke
And you wanna get down, tell him no
It’ll sound like a Sixers game
He’ll be playin’ with the answer as he points, “That’s Eric’s snow.”
I’ll bring two weapons through
For snitches in the confessional
A TEC and a nickel if you wanna be technical
Let’s get to the point, you sarcastic, “hardy har”
But couldn’t hang with me bar for bar
In New Orleans during Mardi Gras
If your man actin’ extra goon
Leg shot when I’m steppin’ to him
Split your shit right before I left the room
Nigga, that’s an exit wound
And bystanders get brutally beaten for beefin’
Brooklyn-born, we’re brought up blind with beacons
Not concerned with the corner, concoct concurrent Corona’s
Come with a caliber, Charlie Clips’ condition confirmed in a coma
I’m just playin’ with these letters and tryin’ to be non-bias
I did some B’s, b, and some C’s, see… stop whinin’!
I was in the box where niggas was not rhymin’
Ayo sticks and Top Ramens
You nerds dot-com’in and hatin’ for the top comment
I’m illegal but legal with Desert Eagles to see you
Eagles and Regals leavin’ you see-through
I equal them people that peeped you like a preview
A sequel, shoot that needle with diesel position leavin’ you fetal
Wait… I can’t use mixtape bars? That’s cheatin’, scrap
But he did that with the Captain Morgan line in the Conceited match — and he act like it was a free at that
Had me so heated I was on his locator
Visit every place that he be at
As you can see, I listened to all of his CD tracks
And read every tweet he had — all 98,322 to be exact
But who’s countin’?
Fuck you, nigga! I was stalkin’ everybody
Even the niggas that hold this nigga down
I’m like, should I get at Clips? Yeah, let me roast this nigga now
Clips ain’t fat, he just got a big ol’ back
My nigga, you got a wide body: you a big ol ‘Lac
I’d hate to be your friend when we was young
And some kids wan’ scrap
‘Cause it probably be hard as hell to get yo’ back
Oh, they want gun bars? I got y’all… I’ll palm the toolie
He gon’ take shots to the head like John Belushi
I’ll put this bitch on ice like Yamaguchi
Silent killer for the mob: that’s Sean Kakhuski
See, I usually don’t stop y’all during these battlin’ verses
But I guarantee there’s a few of y’all
That thought Sean Kakhuski was a actual person
Be the same niggas that fall for Clips’ fifty and fifty nine
Surf with an AR on his hip, I don’t get it when they rhyme
But enough of that, y’all ain’t seen me mad
I guess y’all right, the devil wear Prada
‘Cause I’m about to get in my evil bag
I’m a skinny nigga, I could care less
About grandma good-ass cookin’
You fuckin’ with a crazy nigga
That’ll run in the crib and give grandma that good-ass whoopin’
But y’all know I’m so motherfuckin’ mean with it
I take that grandmother ass-whoopin’ back
And do a whole nother scheme—
I said, I’m probably just weird
As I walked up the stairs I broke a bottle of beer
Bent her over, stuffed it hard in her rear
Twist it out as the bottom just teared
Blood was everywhere, a lot was smeared
And I used it to write on the wall “Hollow was here.”
But y’all know I’m so motherfuckin’ mean with it
I bring that grandmother ass-whoopin’ back
And do a whole nother scheme—
She senile, can’t tell who, what, which and when
I took doo doo from her diaper
With some chocolate and mixed it in
Fed it to her, told her it’s a Twix and then
She said, “Is it supposed to taste this nasty?”
I said “Honestly, the shit depends.”
She said, “On what?”, repeatedly she get beat with a iron
And I tell your grandfather, “Get the fuck up out that wheelchair!”
And I sit down like, “Wheeww! Nigga, I’m tired!”
That was a long day of ass-whoopin’ for Charlie Clips
Damn, your shirt hardly fits!
FYI, they got the salsa chips, avoid the garlic dip
I’m just bein’ real with you, I’m knowin’ this true
Your face could tell it hurts inside and you know that it’s true

[Round 3: Charlie Clips]
How this shit go again? “Your man Charlie Clips had one battle and think he top three now
And how his name Charlie Clips if we only seen three rounds?”
Damn, that was tough! That was back when he was hungry, fire, and — pause — you had a lot of flame in you
But over the time you became a vending machine, Hollow
You don’t know why? I’ll explain to you
See, Shady Records got a little hongry, they pushed buttons
And you was the one they put the change into
You chased that man around more than Kaylin Garcia
It was to the point I felt ashamed of you
You threw money on stage and told Surf to strip
It was at that moment I seen the lame in you
You flew Calicoe’s pops a thousand miles and still had a debatable with Lux… Hollow, you let the fame get you
See, I wanna show you this .40 Glock
But I’d rather school you before the game hit you
‘Cause you chose the stage name “Hollow”
And it’s so crazy how that name fits you
‘Cause see the definition of “hollow” is basically unfilled space
And with a name like that
How could y’all even think he gon’ bully Clips?
‘See, what bothers me is that he chose a name that means empty
But your whole career you’ve been full of shit
Shall I continue? Work out, Hollow
Let’s see what bein’ brolic get you
‘Til a — chhhh chhhh — hollow hits you
And the doctors change your name while you asleep
‘Cause you done woke up with somethin’ solid in you
But oohhh, you not that type of hollow
You an expanding bullet, basically you a hollow-point
But if we go to trial and Hollow point
At the nigga that shot the hollow-point
Then what the fuck is Hollow’ point?
Exactly, see you didn’t choose the name Hollow
God gave it to this man and the shit special
See, he gave him the name Hollow ‘cause he sharp
And with the right aim he probably could split metal
But you’re just a hollow so stay in your lane
‘Cause when you went against an Arsonal
We all seen how that kid stretched you
And remember, a hollow can’t go nowhere unless the clip lets you
This is some powerful shit
I understand y’all gon’ get it, don’t worry about it!
I probably won this round off that alone
One little scheme and a little bit of wordplay
You wanna know what’s crazy, Hollow?
I ain’t spit a punchline since like Thursday
You want one? Okay, cool, you about to get ’em in a bomb way
From now on, May 9th is national
“What the fuck happened to Hollow Da Don” day
I’m extra legit, I got a gift at rappin’, you in the presence of Clips
Imodium, hey D, don’t let him get extra with shit
Cortez’ real name is Ernie
And he rollin’ with Hollow, lookin’ all desperate and shit
Now Ernie the one I should kill if Charles right next to the Smith
Hollow, go ‘head and give it up, give it all you can!
But let your next of kin know that I’m the God in the clutch
Remember he played Street Fighter
He never used Balrog and left y’all in disgust?
Well, I used to battle rap for free in the yard before lunch
‘Til I picked Balrog and learned you can charge for a punch
Yeah, it’s over — yes, Hollow, he the best
I’m in your mom’s crib, she need a vest
Tryin’ to leave blood all over the pad, but it ain’t PMS
Ski mask on, .40 comin’ out the waist, she about to see her death
They ain’t seen a black face raisin’ a cal since BMF
And you said you could beat me bar for bar, Hollow?
I’m from New York where we let off rounds
And my niggas will Smith you for seven pounds
Wait, wait, wait, that’s X-Factor’s shit, right?
I’m buggin’, y’all, I gotta chill
How about… grown man bars is somethin’ he got—
Wait, that’s Rex’ shit, right? Yeah, I’m buggin’, y’all, for real
How about… so it’s Showtime? Stupid nigga, I’m not tryna steal
I’m Shang Tsung, I’m just turnin’ into all the niggas I already killed
My legacy is solidified; Drake voice, your shit is kinda iffy though
You beat Illmac after Con beat him
You beat Big T, okay… really, bro?!
I murdered Verb, I murdered Roc
And what I did to Rex? Silly though
And Factor, his career been fucked, that ain’t even goin’ to Xvideos
So let me ask y’all in the crowd
Raise your hand if you think this sucka a legend
I did that first ’til Arsonal killed him
No debatin’, nigga fucked up his record
Then he lost to Surf right after that, see I don’t fuckin’ respect it
I just wanna know, when you go against Red mans
What the fuck is your method?
Listen, Hollow, I am the greatest, I do believe in the hype
But let’s say niggas don’t think I’m Jordan
And Mook laughin’ because he thinkin’ he Mike
But when Mook little daughter get older
And they go to ask her who the God
She not gon’ remember Michael Jordan
But she always gon’ remember LeBron
I’m about 6’8”, 6’9”, 250, niggas get scared when I come to the fuckin’ basket, I jump in traffic
They say I’m not aggressive ’cause I might up and pass it
Oh, y’all still thinkin’ I’m talkin’ about I’m LeBron
Naw, I’m old school, I fuck with Magic
I compare myself to him ‘cause I’m sick — and my son a faggot!
And you snooo datttt!
This nigga will never be Michael Jordan, if anything he Pierce
But the reason why I compare him to Paul is wonderful
See, you talk down on niggas like you a wizard
Tryin’ to make him feel all uncomfortable
You tough when you was with Brooklyn
But when you not with your team you’re all soft and huggable
I ain’t gon’ lie, you the truth
But your career gon’ end with this wall in front of you
I coulda spit a thousand fuckin’ bars this round
But this nigga needed to be humbled
Yes, Hollow, you need that
That L.O.M. shit you got on your chest, you talk it but I bleed that
Drake offered me $20,000 to battle DNA
I turned that shit down like, “I don’t need that!”
I didn’t even battle you for myself
I killed you so my little brother could have Queens back
Loyalty Over Money!
I told you, Hollow, if y’all remember in the first round
I said make sure your third is your best
Or you’re not gonna see another day
Every time I rhyme, take out your phone
And you better text your mother “Pray!”
‘Cause she gon’ hit Smack, God and Beasley
And ask, “Why did you help take my son away?”
What time is it? It’s only about five hours left ’til Mother’s Day
Hey, Mrs. Dinnananon!

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