Y’all smell that?
Irving Plaza, did y’all clean up?
I ain’t tryna play y’all crew
But I caught a body here last year-
Oh, shit, this feelin’ like deja vu
A lot of y’all gon’ be upset tonight, especially those who came in with you
‘Cause word to Muva, this gon’ be a ugly body…and it is O’fficial
Me battling you gon’ help you out: bitch, I been official
Whoever ridin’ with Jessica Fisher gon’ be swimmin’ with the fishes wit’ you
Pardon me if I’m wrong, but…your name is Jessica Fisher, right?
Smack, is money on her head? ‘Cause I’m not the one to toy with
Tell me what’s Fisher price (Fischer-Price)!
I’ll dump her in a lake
Y’all gon’ need fishermen to get Fisher out
But I only left the bones…’cause when you eat fish, you supposed to pick them out
Bitch, I’m a menace! Somebody shoulda told y’all
If the bitch die, I’ll go about my day: I am so raw
I’ll go to McDonald’s, get a number 2, small fries, and my Coke large
Then be like, “Anybody want this cheeseburger?”…all after I get O dogged! (O-Dawg)
If y’all don’t remember how I does this, good, I’mma remind you
It’s been a year since I been here, I had a good time, too
If y’all loved me last time, tonight, I’m that times two
I work on my time to address bullshit when it’s time to…and it’s time to!
Aye, yo, Earl…nah, I’m playin’
I hope security turned his ass around
‘Cause he make every single one of my opponents choke
And it make haters not wanna give Jaz the crown
So I told him, “Chill today”, y’all, ‘cause this shit is gettin’ drasti-
Yo…see, he acting up already! Ain’t her go yet! I’M rapping now!
You see, I always get slept on, and that’s the problem, nigga
‘Cause I’m usually the first nigga to go nuts: George Washington Carver, nigga!
Look, she arrived ready to throw it in, ‘cause I’mma come with wild heaters
She came to the ring with the towel: she Val Venis!
Let’s talk about bars, though
‘Cause in that area…you might be neck-and-neck to me
But I plan every detail of my murders, down to what gun I want your head to meet
So I pass the doc, trash the Glock, and now the feds think they ahead of me
But I’m off the hook
I can’t get charged twice with gettin’ rid of a .40: that’s double jeopardy!
I got more bars than lifers, and you couldn’t take a day in the joint
And this round a line segment: I’mma get straight to the point
I get your type strangled, and watch your life dangle
I don’t know why they wouldn’t think I’ll leave you diced, mangled
C3 and Couture picked you apart
Our hands might tangle
‘Cause yeah, our lines meet, but you gotta take the right angle!
All you do is gun bar punchlines
To beat me, you gotta rap with some substance or somethin’
You Tre from Boyz n the Hood
You gon’ be…(*grunts*) Motherfu-
Doin’ all that punchin’ for nothin’!
Yeah, that shit cool, but vers’ my style, that don’t fly, Jess
You food, and once I break you down, you gon’ die, Jess (digest)
‘Cause your delivery’s A-1, and like a stuffy nose, you gotta sound sick
But like reinforcements on a ripped loose-leaf, you gotta make sure them rounds stick!
This is my court, so you should know the drill
This is do-or-die
And the fact that you gotta touch these lines make it harder…doin’ suicides!
And I noticed you like to call out dykes so you could kill ‘em
And vers’ Prophet and Lexx, I agree, you did it well
But why you ain’t kill that dyke with the big butt?
Something’s off to I, so now, she gon’ get a L
What, I gotta put it in PG Step?
That spells “O’fficial”
Something’s OFF, TWO I’s, A, L
Peep, she’s like, “No, it don’t”
But who wouldn’t?
Stupid, I know that…but I took C out ‘cause you couldn’t
So how you killin’ me!?
Them OK bitches you slayed not enough
Y’all got her thinkin’ she nice in 2K, but she playing with the game sliders up!
They got you gassed up, O’fficial!
You look nice…just keep that fat tucked, O’fficial
Don’t act tough, O’fficial
Or we gon’ need a replacement ref if you don’t back up, O’fficial!
‘Cause I’mma send you to the Saints, where you could really get your city repped
When I drew the 9, she felt the breeze against her neck
BAH! Shots from the Glock I could give, except
I’mma talk crazy to O’fficial, just so I could get the TEC (tech)!
Look at your swag, ma! You don’t even fit in
Smack don’t even know you: he almost charged you to get in!
I said, “Smack, I want this bitch on NOME”
I made sure to tell him you good
He said, “Who?”
I said, “O’fficial”
He said, “Who?”
I said, “O’fficial”
He said, “Who?”
“The one with the titties”
He said, “Oh, Suge?”
I said, “No! The bitch with the titties!”
He said, “Oh, Goodz!”
Aye, yo, K-Shine!
You was mad me and Nellz said Wavy would beat you?
He- he beat you!
And you thought both us bitches drunk?
Well, as far as you vers’ Verb, both you niggas washed, and both you niggas suck!
First round, bars!
Second round, bars!
Third round, I’mma regret puttin’ yo’ dumb ass on this card
[Round 1: O’fficial]
If y’all don’t remember how I does this, it’s cool, I’mma remind you
I went from C3 to Jaz the Rapper in a year, I had good times, too
If y’all fucked with her versus 40, tonight, I’m that times two
But you take too much time to address bullshit when it’s time to…
Well, it’s my time, too!
Now you came to New Orleans, and they was like, “Jaz is here!”
We made sure nothing happened to you
All I seen in yo’ ass was fear
But you made it back to New York safe…now the gas is here
So, basically, New Orleans is the only reason that Jaz is here!
This cat don’t talk when rats around: Tom and Jerry
Test me, my dude watching: I got the proctor ready
Cock the Dezzi? Jaz, you can stop already
Pop a gun!? You too afraid to even POP YA CHERRY!!!
But let me catch your boys in the hood, and they gon’ get the Tommy
And Jaz, you gon’ get the 12-gauge like Ricky…try me!
Or end up in a wheelchair like Little Chris
You can pick the body
I’m basically askin’ what treatment you want: RICKY BAKER, OR RICKY BOBBY!?
I said, my 9’ll get every quarter back: I call it my Drew Brees pistol
And y’all already know what happened: once I drew, Brees picked you
Let’s see if you still cold once this Brees hit you
I ain’t tryna talk…but I’m ‘bout to shoot the Brees with you!
And you be dick-riding all these battle leagues like it’s a hobby now
But if it wasn’t for Queen of the Ring hoppin’ ‘round, bitch, you wouldn’t be poppin’ now!
So don’t say you where you at ‘cause of URL: you swappin’ now
‘Cause in reality, you ain’t get on SMACK until after the Ring: you BOBBY BROWN!
I’ll give this bitch 200 bucks if you pass Go
It’s not a game: I’m takin’ everything she has, bro (Hasbro)!
Can’t believe y’all said she’d beat me…I’m glad, though
Watch every round: I’ll trump Jaz(z) like Satchmo
The bars I add dishin’ out a bigger fight
We can multiply these shots, long as the clip in right
Since she throwin’ subs, I’mma subtract this bitch’s life
She’ll be lyin’ between two dots if the vision right!
Talkin’ about you make bitches choke ‘cause you know voodoo
Well, I’m from New Orleans: bitch, I do, too!
And I’ll let somethin’ spiritual teach ya, and I ain’t talkin’ guru
So I called up my great-granny, and she gave me the Hoodoo
And that’s, “If I choke, this bird getting clocked cuckoo!”
Then the ratchet behind Jaz with an ugly butt: THAT’S NUNU!
And, boy, I seen your twerk video: that was just wrong
Jaz, you kept moving back like you missed home!
So I’m the only one that think Jaz fuckin’? Is it me?
Stop kidding me!
Since you wanna play “good girl”, good, girl: you can get the heat
I’m calm, but my piece full: that’s serenity
So when y’all see Jaz lyin’, she ain’t talkin’ ‘bout her virginity!
But I heard you know how to “work the mic without holdin’ back”
So I guess the best Jaz(z) music is when she blowin’ sacks (sax’)!
Talkin’ about if I ever have kids, they’ll never go hungry, ‘cause my tits so large
Well, I guess, with that flat-ass chest, bitch, yo’ kids gon’ starve!
Yeah, my titties big, but your head wider
No wonder at NHB, you was the headliner
And it’s cool if you say I can’t spell either
Because lookin’ at your name, bitch, yo’ mama can’t spell neither
‘Cause she spelled your name with a J when you came out her placenta
Well, like your moms, I’m ‘bout to take the G outta Majenta!
You look like growin’ up, you never finished any of your meals, bitch
This lane I came emergin’, see, (emergency) everybody I kill switch
How she gon’ give me the pops she never had: Uncle Phil shit!?
If I give Jaz(z) 5, she gon’ snap back: I’m Will Smith!
So please don’t let this gas back you
And if you rockin’ with Jaz, fuck you!
‘Cause I use instruments when these hands touch you
That mean I’mma get Jaz(z) beat with some brass knuckles!
And before I go, let me ask y’all: Is Jaz a cunt, or what?
Aye, Norbes, 3-0, I should get Debo to FUCK YOU UP!
FIRST ROUND, PERSONALS!
SECOND ROUND, BARS!
THIRD ROUND, Y’ALL GON’ REGRET PUTTIN’ THIS BITCH ON Y’ALL CARD!
[Round 2: Jaz The Rapper]
Fans say Couture, Hart, even Tori’ll kill me, like I’m not the shit
That’s like a nigga writin’ a song to his girl: ain’t that ‘bout a bitch?
I said I wanted O’fficial next, I ain’t even have to write a lick
Caterpillar comin’ out the cocoon: I knew it was gon’ be a new body from the rip!
Now I’m ‘bout to say somethin’, if y’all don’t agree, then call me a big liar
But niggas said you look like Bunkie from Empire!
But anyway, I heard you don’t like Jaz(z)
Me neither…I’m more of a blues and swing fan
5’3”, punches hit like I’m 6’8”: check my wingspan
I took this fight soon as they brought it forward to a god (guard)
I’mma swing, man (swingman)!
Smack the reason that you got this box: he your wingman!
They said, “Why you wanted to do this in a small room?”
I wanted to do something y’all would not expect
And besides, I ain’t wanna take the show from Clips or Hollow
I woulda stole N.O.M.E. (gnome) like Project X!
But soak it all up, ‘cause in this limelight, I’mma need you to bask, O (Tabasco): I’m hot
And you remind me of Jay-Z, ‘cause you gettin’ your name from Jaz, O
That threw y’all for a loop, aye (Lupe)
What’s the fee? Ask O (Fiasco)
Her life, one bitch tied the rope around her neck, but…that was just the last, O (lasso)
Fans said this would be debatable!
They won’t know whether I won or you won
Real shit, the only thing that’s gon’ be debated is whether I beat you 3-0, or 2-1!
Matter fact, make ‘em vote
I bet I’ll kill it on the poll (pole) like Mimi
I been (Ben) savage, you just live around ‘em: you Mr. Feeny!
Last round, you had all these gun bars, and you said I can’t do it
But you call yourself the Gun Bar Queen?
Sorry, bitch, I’m deadin’ that
‘Cause you told a nigga you’ll watch his whole squad move when your machete clap
That’s what y’all doin’ out there? ‘Cause your mans reacted like that was fine
Shit, I’m scared of these New Orleans niggas…
They not clappin’ .9’s, they clappin’ knives!
Clappin’ machetes is not a threat
Clearly you don’t know your shit
That’s like me saying, “These hoes better watch out, before I pull that Glock out…and start to poke a bitch.
Don’t laugh! I’ll do it! I’ll do it!”
You can’t be fuckin’ up like that! You a NOLA goon!
If O’fficial got two G’s strapped up, we thinkin’ it’s some tools involved
But really, if O’fficial got two G’s strapped up, it’s a super-bra!
Or if O’fficial put a round in the air, we think it’s somebody gettin’ slumped off
But really, it’s O’fficial put a round in the air, it’s a jump ball!
All I hear is “Flatline this, Flatline that”
Y’all Flatline niggas gon’ ride for her?
Good luck with tryin’ to help the bitch
‘Cause I got a clip so long – ask me how long
That shit look like a selfie stick!
So tell your crew come, baby
But they better do a 180
I got one .80 that get Flatline flat-lined ‘cause a flat line is 180
I’ll let it dump off
Speeding bullets, they tried to duck off
Even O’fficial (official) wanna slow this clip down like it’s a tough call!
And if they still want wreck, she better get her teammates
‘Cause all that’s gon’ do is get O’fficial (official) beat – I hate remakes
No talkin’, I’mma straight rock her once I see the bitch
It’s funny how O’fficial (official) tracks drop once I leak her shit!
Speakin’ of leakin’ shit, versus Couture, you said, “‘Cause I’m pullin’ up wit’ twin Glocks: replica”
That was hard, and the Jaz face approved that
Now may he rest in peace, but swear on your dead father you and Ah Di Boom wasn’t sparrin’, he said that line, and you asked if you could use that
Or what about “Like Ricky in the alley, bitch, I’m blastin’ back”?
Ah Di gave you that, too, but you said that like it was yours
That’s what we doin’ now in battle rap?
If you asked him, you probably been usin’ niggas’ bars!
You ain’t earn these battles! The shit ain’t right!
But let me chill
She’s an O’fficial (official)
We shoulda knew she needed lines to get her stripes
Bitch, I’m a contract killer
I get paid for this
For them favors? That is not for me
But since I don’t know if O pen (open) bars, she could get these shots for free
But all that ghostwriting shit?
I guess I’m one of the realest shits left out’cheah
You think I’m ‘bout to miss my chance of being a real bitch by usin’ niggas’ lines that ain’t mine!?
That ain’t what real bitches do!
You got the game fucked up out’cheah
You’se a whole ho out’cheah!
And now her man’s prayin’ ‘cause he know (casino) somebody better get a Reverend
No clue needed (Clooney) on where I’m at
‘Cause yo’ dame in (Damon) her own crib in Heaven
Blackjack amount of shots – that’s 21
Three to the head, and her ribs get seven
Then her legs get the remainder
How much I put in O shins? 11 (Ocean’s Eleven)
[Round 2: O’fficial]
I said, man, lemme find out Jaz got the Glock on her…
I’mma pop on her
Beat me? Shit, I must be seein’ shit wrong: glaucoma
I buck shots, so naps is all she see when the Glock calm her
That mean the pistol gon’ put you fast asleep: that’s a Glock coma!
You act like everything I spit can’t be fire!
The only way you can beat my Bars? God: Danny Myers!
Once that gun rose, it left everybody who thought it was all dandy lyin’ (dandelion)
Once this charge (discharge), you gonna catch it like panty liners!
I said, and people told me, “Don’t choke.”
I guess they don’t believe me
I’m not like them other bitches that battled you, I’m hungry and greedy
All yo’ opponents choked? Well, karma gon’ be makin’ this easy
‘Cause the only way I’d choke, bitch, is if I was Beasley!
I’m from New Orleans, I got the real jazz up the way
My nigga from the ‘Lou? His arm strong (Louis Armstrong)
Let’s see if Jaz up to play
If I don’t like any of the shit Jaz fuckin’ say
I’mma spray Majenta (magenta) on the wall: I’m tryna Jaz(z) up the place!
You ain’t perfect, I can see your insecurities, dawg
This bitch ain’t even hit puberty, y’all
All on Spit Dat Heat, makin’ skits about your purity fraud
Well, you fucked when I get to flash light (flashlight) off the hip like a security guard
And please don’t talk about my performance, ‘cause it can’t be stopped
They say I PG step like Dre, then it’s (Dennis) gonna be mean – watch
This’ll be the (Th3) Saga, so I had to Prep to get this fee boxed
So I came to spit more dope lines than T-Top!
And if anybody say they’ll fuck Jaz, I’m upset
Cause she built like a 10 year old boy, y’all suspect
She gotta, big-ass head, no titties, ass or hips, and y’all know I would never lie
This bitch is standin’ here shaped like a lowercase letter “i”!
You ain’t even wanna battle me on N.O.M.E
You knew I was gonna beat you to the ribcage
Well, now you Puffy, jumpin’ around on the big stage
They say I got too many gun bars, well it got me to this stage
And that chopper have a job, and I’ma give him a big raise
This ain’t gon’ hurt nobody but the family: dead jokes
I don’t need a tool, I got two hands and I’ll raise both
Bitch, I’ll slap yo’ head small, and you know I ain’t scared, ho
Try Me, it’ll be yo’ only hit: Dej Loaf
Bitches be tryin’ to be slick when they approachin’ me
But I’ll be the first to witness signs like a notary
So y’all see Jaz comin’ close to me, y’all gon’ see Jaz eat the butt like groceries
Come here twisted and bitch, you gonna dread the fade
The only way I’ll lose is if we go head to head
I’ll do somethin’ cold when I’m workin’ mines
The bullets will break yo’ heart you’ll be hurt inside
I’ll hit a baby back like it’s burpin’ time
You won’t see a parent when it’s twerkin’ .9’s
And all of the bitches that touched URL could die next
I got heart (Hart) so my Hustle ain’t ready to die yet
I couldn’t give her a fairer (Phara) Funeral to arrive at
If you don’t like where this is goin’ my gat is (Gattas) next to die wreck (Drect)
I’ll have you face down like A-Town, I’m stumpin’
You’ll get the Tim’, Spur of the moment like Duncan
Y’all gon’ cry when I start cuttin’: white onions
Y’all witnessin’ O in the bag like Funyuns
You thought she could beat me? How could you make these hunches?
Sent me up wit’ Ms. Struggle
Cause we seen her fight so we all know she can take these punches
[Round 3: Jaz The Rapper]
Y’all ’bout to see the difference between us and I can put my life on that
You think ’cause you be on little leagues you beatin’ me? Don’t rely on that
I kill on Queen Of The Ring and URL and I got my name high off that
So my career like a Holiday Heart plot cause I drag Queens and bitches die on SMACK
Boy, I’m ’bout to hop on yo’ heart, and this battle’s ’bout as far as you can go (Kangol)
When you die, it’s gon’ be a parade
T.I. and Young Thug song: I’m bustin’ out the band, O (bando)
You my daughter, I said I’ll take you where and when I want
And you followed every single demand tho’
Cause I would’ve aired this pussy if you ain’t do what I command, O (commando)
I slay the comp’, I punch back, I see you hate the block
You gettin’ outta pocket? Napoleon Dynamite, I smash ya tater tots
They afraid to watch cause they heard my aim is hot
So if it’s arms over O’fficial head that mean I made the shot
Bitch you on a losin’ streak, you don’t remember the time?
Courture drove you to your funeral, then you faced Hemi
Ironic you got re-hearsed cause you couldn’t remember your lines
You was all stutterin’
Six battles straight, you was dope – what happened?
Ohhh, you ain’t see that as a real game?
You was on a spree, well (Sprewell) then it was destin that you choke in practice
Then you had E Hart, and she came on with bars tweekin’
Her punches were hittin’
All I heard from you? Was hard breathin’
She whooped on you for seven minutes and left yo’ ass with scars, lesions
You Flatline, right?
So why you couldn’t stop that heart (Hart) beatin’?
She treated you like Rey Mysterio and made ya body fly in the ring so
How you gonna beat me, O, when (Owen) Hart made you die in the ring?
And after all that, y’all wanted me to be the one she go to?
Yeah I battle periodic, but I take bitches out they element, now I gotta get O too (O2)
You not even witty like that
Your signature alone show you can’t match my clever
She be like, “Fuck I gotta write it down?”
Bitch, you ain’t creative
That’s literally “Fuck I gotta put it in subtitles” and “Slow it down” mashed together
And y’all eat it up
So if I said, “Soooo it’s…priorities nigga” am I legit?
Or what about, “Syke! I’ll lockpick his door. Eeee” Or should I quit
When adults talk, they don’t say shit again
But I don’t expect you to get that – you just a kid, O (kiddo)
Fuck I got- no!
Real bitches don’t gotta repeat what they did, O (ditto)
And oh yeah, ya big ass fucked NuBorn, right
All I can do is shake my head when I heard Nu’ hit
No plastic surgery, but at one time that was Nu’ (new) ass and Nu’ (new) tits
She ain’t just break up wit’ her ex but, she was on Nu’ (new) dick
Then he told her she was annoyin’ and she ain’t fuck wit’ Nu’ since (nuisance)
But now that I think about it, he been improvin’ himself greatly
Shit, wit’ all that milk no wonder Nuborn (new born) been lookin’ healthy lately
They say you do shit that I don’t
So I’ma talk why you get all your fame while comparin’ it to my shit and they realize we are not the same
I go for the kill, so fuck a vest bitch, guard ya brain
If you gonna talk show up, cause everybody I face light; Charlemagne
I had Chayna, QB, Hustle and 40 lookin’ crazy
I ended up snatchin’ those vets crowns
They chokin’, not bein’ themselves doin’ they worst after we battled they get clowned
See haters hold that against me
Then salute you cause you make bitches wanna give you they best rounds
But who nicer?
One that make okay bitches step it up or the one that knock top bitches steps down
You and C3 had a crazy back and forth, I never did
So deliverin’ a classic is what I have to do?
Fuck a back-and-forth
I deliver ass-whoopings and those be classics, too
I battle once a year
You battle once a month
For what? Oh, the bread?
That’s prolly what this bitch gon’ say
But what the fucks the point of havin’ triple the battles I got if I’m still gettin’ triple ya pay?
Work smarter, not harder, I just want the best for us
You still fuck wit’ Queen Of The Ring when they was tryin’ to take bread from us
Them niggas moves wack
When Snoop did Gladiator School she was like, “We got a few racks, huh Debo?”
He was like, “I got a few racks.”
Then you found out about the snake shit and said, “I’mma still battle Debo ‘cause he give me the best looks.”
Do you realize that you makin’ this man?
Debo the nigga that work for the nigga that work for the nigga that work for the nigga that work for the bitch from Making the Band!
I got you on N.O.M.E….and in two weeks, you battlin’ where it’s ten dollars to see you rap
I treated you way too good
‘Cause niggas here paid $105 minimum
So since you don’t respect your worth or yourself…
Suck my dick, sucka – NeighborHood
[Round 3: O’fficial]
I gave y’all 15 battles in two years, and y’all don’t believe me?
First you said Ah Di Boom was helpin’ me…bitch, you schemin’
Now you sayin’ it’s NuBorn? Ooh, you got me steamin’
Well, we all know I could get Born early like a preemie
Now, if yo’ parents put you out-
(*Crowd starts booing O’fficial*)
Now let me ask you, if yo’ parents put you out, where would you live, Jaz?
Can you afford an apartment in New York? I mean, keep it real, Jaz
So you clownin’ on 40? That shit I don’t feel, Jaz
Of course you can be at every event and travel…when you don’t got no bills, Jaz
And that’s not a punch
I need to converse wit’ you, get somethin’ mean off
Bitch, you talkin’ down on the struggle like you givin’ green off
But you don’t pay lights, cable, or gas
For money, yo’ family is who you lean on
Every time Bill(s) show up, Jaz(z) be playin’ like the Cosby Show theme song!
What you know about bein’ from a place you can’t escape ‘cause you need a burner?
I mean, you wouldn’t believe half the shit if you seen my journal
I witnessed niggas go from track stars to swim stars when Katrina turned up
I was sittin’ on my roof, watchin’ bodies roll down the river like Tina Turner
So you need to stop killin’ bitches like ya floss better
That’s why Surf partner Quad dumped you – may God help her
She never talked about havin’ a nigga ‘cause they all reckless
Your whole life you been catchin’ hounds…no wonder you dog shelters!
You went to college for four years…was it worth your degree?
You got a degree in liberal arts and work at Foot Locker
Bitch, you doin’ worse than me!
It’s on your d-
You put your diploma up, my nigga
It’s on there, I-I’ll put it up for you
I couldn’t wait to expose her
This’ll be worse when this released
But you’ll be alright since you already know how to work wit’ da feet (defeat)
She ain’t wanna get fucked on the big stage
This virgin scary
I’ll waste this pig blood since she got the power: this virgin Carrie
She was left on the grassland when I stepped on this virgin prairie
Then she got knocked up by the Spirit: she Virgin Mary
And you said you deserved Battler of the Year ‘cause you killed that Beantown bitch?
How could you scream that?
You ain’t put in work
Your opponent ain’t even fight back
Of course it seem bad
I went to war wit’ niggas and bitches in battles
I mean, I threw some mean jabs
While I was out here punchin’ bitches, you was punchin’ on the Bean bag
Now I know why everybody choke in front this girl on stage
I figured she was playin’ Chess games by the way she be callin’ Earl (‘url) on stage!
And don’t say I ain’t come wit’ bars, jokes, or personals
‘Cause I do rag (durag) on your head in this battle like Murda Mook
And my personals are cutting deep like they surgical
And this time, you’re facing bars (B.A.R.R.S.) that can murder you
What you wanna talk about – my butt?
But that’s somethin’ you don’t have, Jaz
Yes, you have a cute face, so that only makes you half-bad
So if you come here clownin’ on my shit, you’ll get some backlash
Well, I guess my bars and my body are the same (Why?)
‘Cause I don’t half-ass!
(*Mixed reactions from the crowd, mostly boos*)
I said, you been droppin’ a mixtape for, like, three years
Guess we can expect it later
Anyone can freestyle on someone else beat and add extra flavor
If she don’t know how to make a song, them labels will never pay her
So I guess Jaz(z) music is only made for the elevator
And y’all know what I’m sayin’ ain’t far-fetched
And you ain’t realize I ain’t use a gun bar yet
You killed 40 in Queen of the Ring ‘cause she choked in Queen of the Ring
That ended up kinda hard
But 40 still won Battler of the Year at Queen of the Ring
She had more votes than you and I combined – Lord
Now you battlin’ a bitch that gon’ give you what you in line for
Oh, J (O.J.) Simpson – she got away wit’ murder but still ended up behind B.A.R.R.S. (bars)
(*Crowd starts booing some more*)
I ain’t gon’ lie
You thought you killed 40 streak
You ain’t used to a .40 spittin’? Well, I’mma let my .40 speak
You been writin’ for 40 days and 40 nights? Shit, more like 40 weeks
And you didn’t know how to deliver, baby, until you made 40 weak!
And we been seein’ you since you was a little girl, Jaz
Now you kinda wildin’
Outta nowhere, started twerkin’ and wearin’ belly shirts
You battle rap’s Miley Cyrus
And speakin; of belly shirts, bitch, you wear so many belly shirts it make my belly hurt
Diff’rent Strokes for different folks
She be wearin’ Gary’s shirts
It’s cold, man (Coleman)
She ain’t never been in the streets wit’ niggas that’ll let it burst
You ain’t never been in a fuckin’ position, so of course you never squirt!
I got a grudge wit’ these fists, I would never let the past slide
I’d just Rock this bitch Vin Diesel-style wit’ a Fast Five
Everybody in the crowd know it’s ‘bout that time
This bitch career is an underscore – Flatline!
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