Tay Roc vs. Brizz Rawsteen [Lyrics]

[Round 1: Tay Roc]
I’m solidifed in this shit
This ain’t a battle to see who can take Tay’s position
I feel like I need to get more active, this is a self-made decision
If you sign that PG contract, this nigga straight in prison
You can’t do shit battle-wise without they permission
I’m paid to kill him… chest shot, I aim and hit him
Leave everything across burning like I hate a Christian
This shank look like it was made in prison
Your face I’m splittin’
You make a move, I make the cut; that’s a great audition
Pay attention
You versus Aye Verb, I was mad at you
Not cause you lost, but because you did some shit a faggot do
Talking about niggas swinging on him on cam’
And “if that was you”
Niggas always talking about what they would’ve did
Until they the ones that it happen to
Factual, put a barrel on his nose, have him cross eyed
This cat’ll whip out the cow (Cal’), watch Raw hide
Your soft squad will get hog tied
Nigga you seen my palms, that’s light
But you’ll get smacked with the dark side
You a cock blower, put a hard vest on your kid
Before your seed go in the dirt; I’m a pot grower
Your front door get knocked over
This chopper will fuck up your wall, street; I’m a stock holder
You is not colder. You think you can fuck with Roc, soldier?
It look easy from a far till you a lot closer
What you speaking now? Blaow
Random shit coming out of his mouth
Like you was thinking out loud
Aye Brizz you was talking shit, give me a reason why
You shouldn’t get yo ass capped, I spit in your BMI
I’ll take him to a cornfield like Joe Pesci in Casino, why?
There ain’t a Rite Aid or Walgreen’s for miles
Nobody on the farm’ll see (pharmacy) him die
If Brizz come through my block, picture that
I run up like, “You lost G… PS: go get your map!”
Nigga’s wack, that battery in your back gon’ get you clapped
Docs hooking you up to jumper cables to get you back
This shit a wrap. Show him respect? I don’t intend to
Your bitch eat wood, I know that term might(termite) offend you
My last battle, y’all was unclear on who to give the win to
So I had to sharpen my sword after going against Tsu (Ginsu)
All they heard was the first bang, then the hearse came
Lord happy days is what the church sang
If you want to throw ’em these will give you the worst pain
I will hit B or I give him the ZZ’s like his first name
Who you trying to ice grill? You named your clique Dark Side cause what you get paid to battle can’t pay a light bill
I’ll have your left side paralyzed, it don’t feel right
Docs asking him how his right feel
You couldn’t mount up to Roc with a triple beam
You better watch what you say unless it’s the shit you mean
TECs out, the clip stretched out, like a limousine
The cave deep, your whole squad will get triple team’d
Nigga, fuck you, fuck your whole fam
I’ll smack your mom, I’ll go ham, I’ll stomp out your broham
You better hope what I tote jam
The chopper drum, it hold three 16’s; it’s a Stone Cold can
This bitch big, like Roseanne, and it’ll Bruce Jenner a nigga; bring the bitch out of a grown man
I get up close, BAM! They see the hole, DAMN!
The docs can’t even stitch him, they gotta crochet him
Sidebar: Summer Madness coming, Calicoe, stop running
Conceited, how you 5’4″ and still ducking?
John John talking shit, he gone make me steal something
Aye, Smack. Holla at Hitman; I’m trying to kill something
Light bars! This nigga dead!

[Round 1: Brizz Rawsteen]
One thing about Brizz, I only move for the paper
And stayin’ the fuck outta my way, well that would’ve been safer
I know, you think you beat Surf, well let me guess, now you doin’ it major?
And you gon’ come up here and tell me how you doin’ me favors
Well thank ya
Now dude can get it started
I get to movin’ quick as Tarver
Go get this stupid nigga’s father
And for a G, money will catch me stealin’ Roc(k) like Pookie in the Carter
Be honest, you took this battle cause you was tryin’ to make a profit
I was on a roll, they said, “Donte can stop it”
I said, “Donte can try it.”
I’ma meet him in that ring, one strap, over the shoulder, boy I’m Andre The Giant
Soon as he start frontin’ I’ma start dumpin’
And get Roc filmed and shot in Baltimore, but you ain’t Charles Dutton
You know you gonna always remember them Clips when Charles comin’
You retarded, right? Nah, you ain’t all that bright
You let Smack set you up at a market price
Cause he’s tired of hearin’ how ya bars is light
His whole career is based off all his hype
And a bad loss to Charlie on a Harlem night
I heard you only get a thousand for a check, boy you wildin’ for respect
I get up close, I slit his throat, you be smilin’ from the neck
You done grindin’, I mean you used to cop ya own work
But ever since Smack been frontin’ you rock that consignment
He like, “Roc, I got this contract. Now come sign it.”
Tonight, he get one try if, he become violent
I close one eyelid and whip Roc(k) up on the stove wit’ one I lid
Fuck the playin’ games, don’t even say his name
Or these two razor blades, get to breakin’ up the Roc I call ’em “Jay and Dame”
Hoes please, watch the hand that you don’t see
Because on stage when this appear (disappear), I’m doin’ Magic wit’ the Clips like it’s NOME 3
I hate ya moms, sniffin’ lines til her nose bleed
I’m that belt wrapped around the arm of a dope fiend that’s eight years in but tryin’ to go clean
But I OD, I turn Roc upside down and mop the flo’ clean
Roll sleeves, grab his bitch like, “Hoe please
You gon’ suck the whole thing til ya throat sting.”
He talk a lot of shit, he think he hard, he got heart, I carve it out a bitch
Mr. Boobaka, get to dustin’ Roc(k) off I’m an archaeologist
When they gon’ start acknowledgin’?
I peel it back til everything that’s in ya skull is out of it
Who wanna bet that I could out spit him?
Tell this Baltimore nigga get down when that Cal’ spittin’
Or he’ll (Oriel) get it across his chest like Cal Ripken
The lightenin’ out the cage, or strike him and find him out his J’s
I’ll raise him on the stage and split Roc(k) in the ring like I’m Diamond Dallas Page
Enough wit’ all the rhymes about the Cave
Cause when we lock it in it ain’t no climbin’ out the cage
You want me dead, I’m convinced my man
See Beasley asked if Smack down (Smackdown) to put Roc(k) on Raw like he Vince McMahon
So now you seein’ Raw, Smack, and Roc but if it get wrong you gon’ see Raw smackin’ Roc
Jaw tappin’ Roc
My Geto Boys give him a Scarface if dawg Rap-A-Lot
I knock her outer space, give ya broad astronauts
Who the riders? Darkside, another body in the water, get the scuba divers
This shotty, don’t know who it’s pickin’ up, it’s like an Uber driver
A bulldozer the way it break and scoop Roc(k) up
Goddamn Donte
I told Smack he could’ve gave me Roc and Shante
You just a bitch that can rap, we call it Roc and (Roxanne) Shante
But when I rob you I’m takin’ rocks and shine Tay

[Round 2: Tay Roc]
My style is for the small rooms, I just make it work on the big stage
Like the grip for the pistol, I make it work for the big gauge
Buckshots stick in ya seeds like some mid grade
Get ya mouth wired, you Ms. Doubtfire, nigga bitch made (maid)
Get brave, you ain’t the one that I come after
First round cool, but this where it get much badder
Ya son captured, body parts of ya son scattered
We left him in a Forrest Gump, he should run faster
The heat swung past ya teeth and some shattered
The Sig and AR (cigar) ain’t made by Dutch Master
Fuck rappers, you don’t wanna start wit’ me
Big joints, barrels ’bout as wide as a bong, who can (hookah) bar wit’ me?
Switch up for what? I’m not gonna change on it
I’ll beat him ’til the butt of the Glock got ya brain on it
If they pass a contract to Roc witcha name on it
You get a hearse, casket and rock witcha name on
I’ma put you in the earth, how I plan it (planet) shouldn’t matter then
You put a (Jupiter) stupid like this against me, this is what’s happenin’
I work wit’ clips (Clipse) like the Neptunes, you see the pattern?
Ya bitch get rocked wit’ rings, a coma is what I sat her in (Saturn)
I’m batter than any nigga battlin’
Who you challengin’? You can’t handle Roc(k), Kendrick Perkins when he travellin’
This ain’t a big match, still ain’t one I’m slackin’ in
Summer Madness comin’, wit’ Brizz I’m target practicin’
I’m never broke, fuck do you think?
I keep Stacks and Drugz wit’ me, rest in peace to Bundles and Chinx
Ya flow? Ass crack, like a plumber workin’ under the sink
Brizz could get an ice tea, but it ain’t somethin’ to drink
Aye to all them niggas claimin’ “Gun bar king”, them niggas not me
I used to carry one, now I pair it (parrot), they tryin’ to mock me
I come through wit’ a chain and a watch, y’all gon’ watch me
Blindfold a nigga for his jewels (Jews) he can not see (Nazi)
If we eat in my hood and we got beef over broccoli
You got two choices King, that’s Martin Luther or Rodney
Tell me who gon’ stop me
Shit live, if they don’t catch it on tape, I’ma get away scott (Scotch) free
There was nights I was in hella beef, slept wit’ the arm under the pillow so long that the shit fell asleep
If it’s drama I’ma stress the lease
Cause I know I’d rather kill me a nigga so I can rest in peace
My style, reckless, the blade will cut you the gun’ll bang you
If we were shapes I’d be a circle, I don’t come wit’ angles
Tell this square I’m nice wit’ the rec’ and he don’t wanna tangle
Stop, get Top you’ll need octagon come and save you
The semi extension ain’t meant to be hidden
I knock DNA out ya mouth, ya whole shit’ll be missin’
I really be wiggin’, ya bitch and ya sis’ I be hittin’
I let ’em rotate on the pole, that’s rotisserie chicken
Let me find out this nigga be snitchin’
I’ll get this mail (male) in my P.O. boxed before they sent me to prison
The nigga be slippin’, I gun butt him wit’ the shit I be grippin’
He’ll have a Superhead, aye that’s a video vixen
This hits ya rib cage, everything will be broke inside it
The docs will have to close ya heart like an open locket
The hammer got an inf’ beam and it’s ultra violet
Swizz cheese nozzle the barrel lookin’ polka dotted
I promote the violence, wit’ that, you don’t want none wit’ me
Battle rap ain’t a job to me, this shit is fun to me
Fuck a scheme, angle and punch, it’s ’bout a gun to me
A gun is the only thing to get the job done for me
Light bars!

[Round 2: Brizz Rawsteen]
Rawsteen versus Tay Roc, y’all ain’t happy ’bout it?
See all y’all think he the shit, that’s ’til I slap it out him
I only came to lick a shot on the Roc(k), this ain’t happy hour
Boy I done sparred wit’ greats, you pussy
Ya gun so this, ya gun so this, nigga all ya gun bars is fake
I’ll whip you til the pistol take a part of ya face
You begged for ya last battle, yeah you could hardly wait
But the Jersey nigga buried in Planet Roc(k), ironic he from the Garden State
I was surprised and amazed that you could lose to Surf cause ya whole fuckin’ career you been ridin’ the nigga wave
Tonight I’ma get close and check him, stab him
Old school, open neck him
Then keep stabbin’ him the motherfucker til ya hole’s infected
You don’t pose a threat but let me pose a question
What’s a Roc(k) and a pipe to a dope injection?
I reach in and rip out ya whole intestine
And feed it to his mother in a bowl for breakfast
Third round we gon’ talk about you bein’ loyal to Smack and who really put the boy on the map
But ’til then, the boy will get slapped
Then it’s heroin in the book bag, that mean I put the boy on his back
I sneak Roc, reach, cop the clip, long as a Freeze Pop
I’m old school, I give him the beats, I’m Pete Rock
Sweet? Nah, fraud niggas, they ain’t on what they claim they on
This the king of Maryland that claim the throne
Side he played the corner like Ty Law but wasn’t Prepped for this Danja Zone
They the lamest yo
He bring the bitch to the battles that he claimin’ bro
But he wasn’t doin’ that before his name was known
Is ya bae a model? I’ll beat ya bitch with the glass til I break the bottle
Then this (dentist) Calicoe pops, it ain’t black face on stage with Hollow
Let me hear you coppin’ bricks for some rocks to flip
I’ma get on a power trip
No, I’ma lay ya plug down like a power strip
And fuck up ya Empire when this .50 put on a show on some Power shit
What Roc want? I fuck Roc up
All my dawgs will ride up
With all ratchets, but you still see the numbers on the arm like Holocaust survivors
I’ll fuck up his house, throw a Molotov inside it
While his mama all inside it
He the Gun Bar King but Smack, thus far it’s dumb hard just
Tryin’ to figure out how, Mr. Gun Bar is just doesn’t have gun charges
But all of son’s bars is about who gun largest
Oh God, another Maryland nigga tellin’ mo’ lies
‘Bout how that fo’ rise
I swear befo’ God you worse than that nigga in the bowtie
You don’t match wit’ excellence
This ain’t a trial don’t judge me, I had to pack some extra shit
Just in case this missed (dismissed) like a lack of evidence
You don’t have half my presence or set half my presidence
Have respect for this or I smack out ya teeth and make me an African necklace
Your past, your record, we would have to question it
Fuck this boxin’ style, I box him out we ain’t never seen Roc get wild wit’ the crocodile
I’ll cook crack then put Roc(k) in vials
I have fiends in the line for Roc(k)
We ain’t land on it, we break him down and bag him up in dimes of rock
Don’t even talk this way
Better yet, tell him Run cause I air a Smith (Aerosmith) if Roc Walk This Way
Nigga, you gon’ talk about my battle wit’ Verb?
Have you the nerve?
Need I mention battle after battle that he hasn’t deserved?
What’s up wit’ that shit?
Oh that’s right you spend ya whole career suckin’ Smack dick
You disrespect me online suck a fat dick
This check? Just a couple dollars for me
So knockin’ dudes the fuck out ain’t a problem for me
Darkside nigga

[Round 3: Tay Roc]
Aye Brizz, that round showed me in this ring you can box
You unorthodox, you can go off
Nah, there’s a box I can put you in or the docs you can go off
You better watch every Verb, I’m not that nigga to Showoff
I’ll get Young X, see how his rap sheet’s so small?
Let’s get into rocks, let’s not even prolong
These rookies think they vets, they ain’t even been pros long
My rap sheet’s so long, I’ll leave it for you to tell
To those who don’t know what the fuck I’ve done in the URL
I’ve battled Suge, Shine, Young Kannon, O-Red
Went to Detroit, battled Qleen, Rich Dollaz, Cortez, B-Magic
Ill Will, JC, my rematch wit’ Clips
Battled DNA, Tsu Surf, how the fuck you add to the list?
Peep, I bear metal to air several
Piece (peace) on my side, like what would Jesus do? Then I Dare Devils
Nigga, you takin’ this battle
No me takin’ this battle a favor, I’m ten years in, you two years in, you can’t compare levels
You rep Darkside
I told Smack I wanted a fight
“Bring him to me. Whatever’s done in the Dark comes to the light.”
They ask, “Why always, use gun puns when I write?”
Cause I was the kid that always brought the gun to the fight
You wanted this, right?
If I pistol whip him his jaw’ll break
The handle of the hammer like old habits, that’s hard to break
So many cracks ya skull will take, Brizz had a seizure in Manhatten
What y’all call that? A Harlem Shake
Somebody tell this man he should fall for them
I’m feelin’ like the man in the morgue cause Smack keep handin’ me corpses
Ya man, should be cautious, keep the beef between me and you
Whoever else get in the picture will make a family portrait
You’re not from North Carolina
I’m well aware you’re from Delaware, what the hell is there?
Open fields? Hella deer?
Where I’m from, it rains, it snows, it’s hell in there
We ain’t even gonna jump him
This ass whoopin’, hella fair
Shit, I’ll bring the weapon there
Nigga try to run, I ain’t Obama but Roc (Barack) won’t leave one missed shell (Michelle) in there
I can aim at his melon, put a shell in there
Or stomp his head with Adidas and leave him wit’ a shell in there
This a Navy SEAL vs a baby seal
I can’t believe y’all put a vet in a cage wit’ dog to see if rabies real
Y’all tryin’ to play me still?
I’ll put this silver, where (silverware) in his mouth like Gerber’s, this a baby mil’ (meal)
You bite bars, you so dead for that line
You know that Hollow reference, you owe (O) Red for that line
“I’ll pistol whip him until I see a dent in the nine (Dininon)”
He steal bars like John John Da Dininon
I’m really inclined, don’t speak on where I’m from unless you tryin’ to beef
E Wood, [?] and Brookside
Behind the G, beside my damn self, there ain’t nobody that I’m tryin’ to be
I’m a Hazard County nigga, Baltimore ride wit’ me
Get me mad, talkin’ ’bout shit that you don’t know nothin’ ’bout
Niggas get personal, but disrespect is my other route
Ice pick in ya brother’s scalp, dick in ya mother mouth
Get ya sister pregnant, regret it then kick her stomach out
Nigga, my mind on some ignorant shit
You dug ya grave, now lay in it, I’ma piss in the ditch
I’ll tie you up, take ya arms, put slits in them shits
Instagram it and let the world look at the flick of the wrist
You gon’ beat me?
Still niggas lyin’, tell him like I told the others, I don’t feel niggas rhymes
Who he foolin’ wit’ them steal grippin’ lines?
Tell him fuckin’ wit’ me he’ll get Smacked, he on real nigga time

[Round 3: Brizz Rawsteen]
Knew I would drop him up on the stage
Body him for the change
It was an ultrasound baby, I seen the body before it came
Fuck the respect
Checked his background, found there wasn’t nothin’ to check
Except for the fact, you 14 URL battles in and just now becomin’ a vet
How bummy is that?
I’ll wrap ya fuckin’ body up how a mummy get wrapped
What’s poppin’ Roc?
I heard you Boogie Down like you in the Bronx a lot
The K will stretch son, ask KRS-One about Scott La Rock
That’s an east coast chopper lettin’ off more bullets than a Compton block
They got me next to the pretenders
Cave Gang? I don’t respect none of the members
When three of y’all is registered as sexual offenders
I’ll let him chalk the lead, that four alarm part his head
And have his shit lookin’ like somethin’ from the Walking Dead
They gave me Tay Roc, the kid who be reachin’ for gun bars, we call him “Tay Dot”
Now Roc in hot water my nigga, this that straight drop
Aye Top, I need a couple young guns that spark his Bean for Free
You know; State Prop’
Then I’m out on they block by 12
If they knock my sale
Soon as I get ’em eye balled I break off Roc(k) like I forgot my scale
This big nine, got a job for no reason
It’s gon’ get fired, that’s Kevin Gates in ya face nigga, it don’t get tired
I run him over, drag him for six miles, catch a flat then switch tires
My machete still disloyal, cause first it stick witchu, and then it switch sides
Roc on the road but he pissin’ me off like lettin’ my bitch drive
Caught him wit’ his girl, hopped in like, “Bitch drive. And quit cryin’
It ain’t that bad you just dyin’.”
Who he foolin’ wit’ them steel grippin’ lines?
When ya steel run out, I’ma be still grippin’ mines
All ya fans wanna know is, “Can you still feel ya spine?”
Two hands on the nine, that’s real nigga time
I ain’t raise these bastards, I raise the standards
I’m an animal, you can catch rabies after
Thought they could go to war ’til they saw the ball, then they waved they flag up
Started pagin’ backup
Profile down ’til Smacks in the check now ya page is back up?
Listen, I don’t be meanin’ to be over tedius
But don’t be speakin’ like you was somebody before social media
I mean, bro to me you was below the medium
Them rolls you feedin’ him? Ain’t known for seasonin’
That’s cause the taste ain’t the same when you don’t know the ingredients
Can we both agree that’s it’s mostly me that made this most convenient?
But you know these heathens
Take advantage of ya blessings until you don’t receive ’em
Roc, where has ya talent taken you?
Roc! Need I point out mistakes for you?
All these years later you barely out of the basement dude
How great is you?
You racin’? Cool
You gotta pace ya moves
You tryin’ to get up and run before you lace ya shoes
How much does that make to you?
So make some room, ‘fore I flame the tool
And you fuck around and make the news
Fuck the conversatin’, I’m the god but I’m kinda Satan
I show all you niggas how to cook up Roc(k) I’m Ronald Regan
I’m the god I should bomb you pagans
They love you but man save it
Cause I’ll put fam’s face in a fan blade til the fan break and show you the fan’s favorite
Talkin’ ’bout I stole bars from O-Red
Bitch, don’t make me go ‘cross ya whole head
Broke legs, body slam niggas til the dome spread
You started in that Lionz Den
And to be honest kid, we ain’t seen the lion since
It’s like either he lyin’ now or he was lyin’ then
I mean we know Lux put you on
Then you got wit’ Dot Mobb, Murda Mook got ya comfortable on
Nigga I’m tryin’ to figure out who’s nuts is you on?
Fuck it, Darkside nigga

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