Brizz Rawsteen vs. Ill Will [Lyrics]

[Verse 1: Ill Will]
Brizz vers’ Ill, it’s gon’ be a-
Nigga, I am a crazy one!
And you nobody ’til somebody kills you: that’s what Biggie taught
Think you can outrun these-
Nigga, you wanna live Ricky life?
Cause with this aim, I don’t miss
Facts, pussy…Mickey wife
What you gon’ do?
I’ll make your jaw lean
Turn your life to a Saw scene
Head shot ya offspring
Red dots all over his face…now he Rosenberg Rawsteen!
But you the guardian of the Cave, right?
I still regard you as a sucka
.38 Special, I could be in the Olympics…(*smack*) with this retarded muhfucka!
I don’t care if y’all 30 deep, it’s still 30 actors
Get caught right in ya chest like Bill had on his jersey backwards!
Fuck Raw!
OK, let’s turn up
Raw pussy: I ain’t talkin’ ’bout the best feelin’
Head spinnin’, left his post traumatic like a vet symptom
We beef today? It better be USDA: fuck Raw!
I’m a slick puller
For the snow, man, I’ll have you lickin’ blood, Raw!
Why you be actin’ so tough, knowin’ you got that ho smell?
Nitty got up in Roc face…
Nigga, oh, well!
Comin’ to the front like you gon’ do somethin’…this ho frail!
Blac Youngsta: you coulda brawled with money at the hotel
.45 under the bed, I’m cheatin’ on wifey wit’ a cougar bitch
Off the first blast, I could merge cabs, have ya Uber Lyft
Do some shit!
My lil’ nigga got the deuce-five on him
I said, “Naw, I’ma cut him”
But he don’t be listenin’ to what I be tellin’ this guy
So after I sliced him, he still shot him: that’s a buck-seventy-five!
I’m in Pontiac, swaggin’
But I’m always in New York ready
I’ll have Raw all over New York like New York Freddie
I been reppin’
If I see narcotics in ya men’s section
You gon’ see Ill in the cut like an infection!
I pack the .40
Don’t act out in a act of glory
He got so many butts from the 12, they gave him statutory!
Cave Gang? Darkside!?
We couldn’t be those geeks
I’d rather drink bleach for three whole weeks
You couldn’t stop this chopper with Neo feet
I got somethin’ new, all in
Ready to see Raw fish like a Creole feast!
He no beef, I could still cut him
I could cut him, but these swell victims
Took him out his shoes before the blade: I’m Ezal stealin’!
I toss my bitch the Dezzi
Yeah, my bitch’ll roast you
Watch her stroke my ego like a bitch supposed to
I coast through, burn him with the Glock
Lottery pick: a .357 turn straight into a box!
Fuck nigga, actin’ like he know he safe
The kickback throw Raw out the window like a police chase
Brizz, who is you steppin’ to?
I will three-piece-suit you, schedule the service before the reverend knew
Only if Heaven knew, I could make life merge with Tekken 2
After I aah-aah-aah-ooh-aah-
BOY, THAT WAS LIKE, SEVEN MOVES!
Hi, Brizz! BOW! That’s a .44 greetin’
Everybody buttoned up at the top and chess all open like a Cholo meetin’
You got kids? Well I’ll hit ya son, split ya daughter, this a slaughter
Burn his chest, stab his leg, this is torture
Buck 50, buck 50, this is Sparta
I will slap whoever, I don’t care if I’m in the ‘Yac, where ever
If you gettin’ money than Ill all over Raw chicken like salmonella
You act hard, but you still got some timid ways
Tim McVeigh, I blow up shit where ya kitten play
He decay if I lift the K, that’s how a dentist play
He try to run and hit his head at the last minute like, “Oh I know what I was finna say.”
This my day, I’m doin’ everything my way
I’ll give ya bitch a mud bath, it ain’t a spa day
So how you want it? Ya jaw wired like Kanye?
Or the Wesside Gunn push ya shit to the side like Conway
You got heart dude? Let me get that
I know the nigga that taught you, don’t forget that
Asians at a restaurant and they scrappin’
A simple walk thru can get ya Chin strapped
‘Yac Town in this bitch

[Round 1: Brizz Rawsteen]
Brizz versus Ill Will, it’s gon’ be a crazy
There’s a lot of battles on this card, and this gon’ be ya favorite one
And I ain’t gon’ play wit’ him
Why I’m battlin’ you? Well it ain’t no explainin’ it
From Ars’ to Ill Will the fans see the bullshit and they ain’t okay wit’ it
Well, who OK’d the shit?
You got the iron cocked? Well you better strike when that iron hot
Cause I’ma leave a hole in Will (wheel) on the side of the road like that tire popped
All you gon see is pieces of Will (wheel) stacked in the garage like a tire shop
What’s poppin’ Willy?
Well it don’t matter it’s 12 o’clock, I’ma lift him up like we poppin’ wheelies
That’ll get in focus, fuck who hot, Brizz the coldest
I put dick in ya mother mouth, when I fly down with the zipper open
If there’s somethin’ in that shit you smokin’
I split you watch the guts fly out like when a Swisher open
Fuck whatcha mama think, you get ya mama shanked
Then get stuffed into a Mazda until ya mama stank
Wait, wait, wait, correct me if it’s my mistake
But I kinda think he ain’t climb the ranks
But ya makin’ me (Jamaican) me wanna get uglier than Shabba Ranks
I brought four of these bitches to Set It Off, we ain’t robbin’ banks
Tonight, I’m ahead wit’ weapons and I’ma leave ya head in sections
Live, In Living Color and sit ya face on the table like the Head Detective
BAOW! I blow the brains everywhere
I mean, I’m not sure if you heard but that’s how I spread the message
Where ya kinfolk? Get ya chin broke
{Gun cocking} 10-4, send ’em in, I crack they egg then give ya men toast
This pair is (Paris) from France, he gettin’ French toast
You can spit folk, but you a bitch tho’
I can smell it I got a pit nose
I make ya mother suck dick three times then six mo’
I’ma keep talkin’ shit ’bout ya mom and shit bro
Cause it’s crazy how ya ugly ass mom fine as shit tho’
She get the dick fast, then get the dick slow
Then I’ma switch strokes, to a six stroke, then she dick choke
Wham! Then a rib broke
Y’all heard niggas bleed just like us?
Well today Somebody Gotta Die, that’s a BIG quote
What you 6’4″?
Bitch, so?
You better dip low or get ya shit sewed like I stitch clothes
I bet whoever I see, see (CC) I ain’t e-mailin’ ya shit
I came for that smoke dawg like Ezal in this bitch
You from Pontiac, don’t act like no female in this bitch
Cause for a grand damn (Grand AM) I clean Pontiac up like I’m detailin’ a whip
Tell this crab, I’m the muscle (mussel) so if I see (sea) food I leave shells in the whip
You sad folk, ironic, you was shootin’ up on SMACK then you fell off like bad dope
This vet’ shit Ill, okay? I’mma drown you if you set trip, Ill
Don’t be shocked when he’s underwater, y’all better hope he’s an electric eel (Ill)
Nigga these bullets got ya mama name on ’em like yo’ electric bill
Nigga, yes this will
Remind you of ya last battle cause ya gettin’ Clips for the low like a Netflix deal
What are you jerks provin’? Be still
‘Cause after my first movement, he get the gun to his dome
(*chk-chk*) Then the bullets through the temple – that’s a church shootin’
See, Swave? I’m a Rare Breed
I come through fast at rare speed
One punch, clip through the wind and make the air bleed
He don’t scare me
Let’s be fair, Beas’
He had niggas fooled longer than Steve Harvey hair piece
But the can’ I’m sportin’ waves next to the hair grease
Tonight, I’m gettin’ drunk off the open bottle like it’s no tomorrow
But I gotta leave a round in Will bigger than a Forgiato
The Glock fresh out the box with no bodies like bony models
I heard yo’ ass had a lot to say
Well Busta Rhyme yo’ ass will get shot today
They’ll ask did he (Diddy) get for real (Pharrell) wit’ a nigga from the ‘Yac?
I said, Pass The Courvoisier
Dezzi bird kickin’ like cranes in the sky, shit feelin’ like Solange today
Get the chalk for him, cause it’s back to the chalk board
I bet the whole card hear it when I talk to him
Cause I’ma plug a knife in his top like an ox core
That’s what I’m talkin’ ’bout
Bet the blade make the skull come out
When I bring it down like I’m talkin’ loud
But, wait, wait, wait, I bring it back up like we got shit to talk about!
What’s the deal Will? Let’s get the deal sealed
I’ll leave scars on his face like the real feel

[Round 2: Ill Will]
Can we have some fun just right quick?
Can your grandmother told me I had a great gene inside me hidin’
I couldn’t keep it in
We both watch my kids fight fo’ they life on the bed sheet dryin’
Rather than tryin’ to beat the mind deep as a diggin’ passages halfway to the core of pimpin’
When niggas was fuckin’ nigga’s mothers from the beginnin’ of time and-
Let me be honest, if you text out every hoe that I’ve stretched out it’ll be nothin’ new
Just a double shot of smooth for ya boo and ya crew and I never have a bad drought
Y’all niggas came here on planes…cool, y’all gotta go the hotel route
They didn’t even book my niggas rooms, I told ’em Brizz mama givin’ head out

{Ill Will starts fake choking to further imitate Lux’s first round versus Calicoe}
Hold on, let me get it together. Brizz mama givin’ head out, Brizz mama givin’ head out. Brizz mama givin’ head out, what I say? Brizz mama givin’ head out. What I say? Brizz mama givin’ head out. Brizz mama was suckin’ dick she was givin’ head out. What I say? She grabbed on dicks and was suckin’ ’em. She’s a bitch that suck dick and she was givin’ head out

Every nigga I fuck wit’ thorough, just check the thread count
You talk shit, I walk shit
Spark shit, I would like to play a game: Saw 6!
I’m the bootleg man I’m givin’ Raw clips
Good shotty, he a nigga I prolly catch slippin’ in the hood prolly
You seen Guardians Of The Galaxy? You Groot, a nigga I would (wood) body
Black ratchets, nappin’ (nappy)these hoes, it’s too late for that Don Imus
Arm stuck in the shootin’ position, aaaaw maybe it’s arthritis
If I catch you, you dead, lay in the box silent
And send that coffin (coughing) to God, pray for my bronchitis
I don’t see people, I just see dead things
.40 lickin’, this pussy got his red wings
What’s the biz here? I came to his mama house like, “Is Brizz here?”
Two Dezi’s, double D’s squeeze tight in Brizz ear
You know, double D’s squeeze tight in brazier
That shit was okay? A little iffy?
Well how ’bout I put the double D’s on ya head like Little Nicky?
Ya boy is back, my respect? Don’t toy with that
I come in, burnin’ Brandon in the chest like he tryin’ to join a frat
I will have a threesome witcha mama and yo’ auntie Gladys
Stuff a cone while yo’ mama toss yo’ auntie’s salad
Yo’ pops show up, then mine do too
I’m the one shootin’
I had dick down her throat and I gave ya auntie the balls like I’m done hoopin’
Fuck you! Bitch ass nigga, I got a crazy mouth
I come in, deucin’ ya woman and take ya baby out
Aye, get ya story right, we can have a gory fight like 40 nights
He gon’ be the one to catch the big shot, livin’ Horry life
Or this bitch can give him all she got, it’s a supporting wife
I’m more than nice, hard headed, mom’s had to say shit more than twice
Show up with more straps than C3 crib on orgy night
I’m more than nice, and I can take it a bit farther like I’m the shit starter
And these will get raised on Raw like Vince daughter
But you? Gas; Nazi victim
I see the Future in ya bitch; Scottie Pippen
Knock him down, he get the boot before the sock, I’m Ducati shiftin’
Dope, New Edition on the Brown handle, I’m Bobby sniffin’
Y’all know how y’all whoopin’ a nigga ass, slip and fall and he get the best of you?
That’s how Roc beat me, now I’m goin’ ape
Hangin’ these cats over the ledge I’m Rafiki
He can get a butt in the ring; Rikishi
These twins, but I only used to run wit’ one in NY, it’s not Tiki
Ya bitch? Wanna link up, I send my dude out to meet her
All she do is suck and fuck, this dude out to please her
I’ll send them killers to ya home, we ’bout to make you move out and leave her
Or a chunk of raw meat in the seat like, “Mom said take that Raw meat out the freezer.”
I’m skitzo Brizz, but right now, I’m in an okay mood
Sometimes I dream of cuttin’ dope with the same knife that OJ use
BAOW! Tool hit you, he lose twenty whole liters
Don’t play okay, our K’s ain’t studio speakers
I run down on him, right at the address
Bullets kickin’ through the windshield; Pineapple Express
I ain’t impressed
And T-Top, you keep talkin’ ’bout the motherfuckin’ drugs and you ain’t got that motherfuckin’ toy witchu?
You trappin’ in silence, Vatican violence, I’ll beat the pope out you if you got a lil’ boy witchu
Smack, you got this boy witchu?
What you tryin’ to add some relevance to him?
Now you got Raw behind bars like the evidence room
I step in this room with plenty arms, I bring many harm
Left this rat over Raw like Nicky Barnes
The reason why I walk around, prolly cause I don’t know y’all probably
All y’all niggas is carbon Xerox, photocopies
I don’t care if I’m alone, solo or deep as long as the fo’ fo’ got me
If yo’ bitch run in front of this chopper it’s gon’ shred her (Shredder) I named it Oroku Saki
Yak Town in this bitch!

[Round 2: Brizz Rawsteen]
You know, you don’t gotta tell me ’bout the .45 strap
And how the .9 clap, cause that’s lies; facts
Where you find these guys at?
I mean besides that
Yo’ last battle, you told Clips you be finger fuckin’ a nigga til he climax
Right then I paused like, “Why scrap?”
My nigga, where is yo’ mind at?
Bitch I had to rewind that like “Damn, that was a good line but why would rhyme that?”
What’s up wit’ this nigga? My machete catch you finger fuckin’ a nigga
Cut ya hand off, now ya finger’s stuck in a nigga
Faggot!
You got the game jacked up, you lame fat fuck, you ain’t that tough
You fell off SMACK for two years to get ya name back up
You got in fake shootouts on camera to get ya fame back up
This ain’t no step down for me Smack
Oh no, even though he did PG’s and BET the year before me and won
Well look at us now for me Smack, huh
No, you gotta check out the run down for me Smack
I proved I could kill DNA, DNA proved you wasn’t a killer
I had a classic with Roc, you got ya ass whipped with Roc
I showed off on Showoff, Showoff showed off on you
I killed Arsonal, vers’ Arsonal you lost that too
Man this is a step down for me Smack
I thought you was down with me Smack
But see rap, that’s what I’m better at doin’
That’s ya man, I’ll have him lookin’ like ya never knew him
When the shells on his back like the turtles but the metal on his head got him lookin’ like The Shredder to him
When my bros find you, bitch they gon’ clothes line you
That’s a hole and whatever you rock or wear (Rocawear)
Then Roc will put the chain ’round his neck like Hov signed you
Check The Blueprint, I never been afraid
To say what’s on my mind cause the M-16 (Em 16) got a magazine
That’ll fuck up ya day like Jay on Renegade
Now versus Clips you had long rap rounds nigga
I got clips long enough to wrap ’round niggas
Yak Town, ya drunk ass better put the ‘gnac down
Cause I’ma get Get Rich Or Die Trying and this .50 don’t Back Down
These serve all day, catch a MAC round
I have his body hangin’ halfway out the bag like a hash brown
We gotta get some thangs in order or I maintain some for ya
This .40 kick this bitch 100 feet away with a clip full of restrainin’ orders
This stage? Not for William
I brought shots for William
Fuckin’ up yo’ posture William
Think Jeffrey, cause with Fresh prints (Prince) on the tre (tray) I Will Smith him like Master William
Fuck Yak Town, I’m a dark nigga
That dark nigga, tonight the Yak (gnac) get served by the bartender
I got single shots, double shots, but the tips for y’all niggas
You be rippin’ niggas off, I be rippin’ shit off niggas
I’ll have more cats in his hood than Jaguar car dealers
If I declare war the deuce is wild but I still cut shit like card dealers
No no no, I target ya, like a Nazi at a bar mitzvah
And I ain’t leavin’ no prints that’s what I brought mitts fa
Then I’m carvin’ a, Swastika and a round in his top not a Yamaka
Then y’all niggas spit the flame in ya window like it’s Hanukkah
Mazel tov, tell him, “Knock it off” or I give him mama raw
Cock with the condom off
You made it look easy on SMACK, now you just tryin’ hard
This guy’s a fraud, at NOME 6 you were smokin’ our weed and ain’t had no money to buy cigars
Talkin’ ’bout “They eight dollars.”
(Eight dollars)
Eight dollars!
What’s the topic dawg?
How I’m Cave Gang and Roc the boss?
Cool, well ’til Roc get off stage I let a rocket off
Break shit, spaceship, the way ya top lift off
Chill Will before you get the Tylenol
That’s a chill pill to put his brains on the tile and all
You said ya pops was from 3rd Ward Calliope then all over the projects, right?
Well you know if I catch him in the 3rd Ward this cal’ will open shit all over the projects, right?
Cool, well stop playin’ with the Cave
You dissin’ us now, but that’s lame to the Cave
At NOME 6, you really tried to hang wit’ the Cave
But history shows, masters don’t be hangin’ with the slaves
You fucked up kid
Nah, you know what’s fucked up is?
You got smoked twice, Smack passed on you, you know the rules nigga, puff puff give
You like the west coast in ’97, boy you done fucked up BIG
So we gotta have a big discussion and you gon’ get whipped for nothin’
If I don’t catch him on the left I catch Will (wheel) on the right like a whip in London
Darkside nigga

[Round 3: Ill Will]
Aye Smack, I had to come up with these pop offs
I couldn’t figure out which one was the best
I’ma help you out, you tell me which one you suggest
The first one you said, “Nigga you fuckin’ soft
I’ll fuck ya mother in the ass and make her suck it off
All sorta options, I’m talkin’ hand behind the head while his daughter watchin’

[Brizz]
Leg up

[Ill Will]
Oh, oh, leg up, that shit was cold
I’m talkin’ three below
I just don’t like the fact you was talkin’ ’bout fuckin’ in front of a three year old
I got kids nigga
Nieces-

{Someone in the stage passes out}

I just don’t like the fact you was talkin’ ’bout fuckin’ in front of a three year old
I got kids nigga
Nieces and nephews nigga
How it sound makin’ ya mama suck my nephew dick? You don’t like that do you?
But I’ma raw dog, Raw broad ’til she dog Raw
She Kobe with the mouth, she a ball hog
She got me jumpin’ out my boxers in position like Balrog
Aw nah!
But I scratch that Smack, I said, “I don’t like that pop off.”
Then I said, “Nigga, I ain’t Chilla. You can’t call me for no Jakkboy Maine.”
Nigga I’ll bang the steel, Ryda, ain’t no rider, he need training wheels
Mike P, that’s a pussy option
I’ll knock Twork on his head like he pussy poppin’
Shoot Chef like Johnny Depp, yeah nigga I got those
And this will point (disappoint) at Ave like city potholes
Hold on I got mo’
Cause nigga you said my name nigga and that ain’t what we ’bout
I already shot up a Bigg K, we can clear the scene out
Motherfucka I’ll put you on motherfuckin’ 48 Hours, I’ll bring the streets out
In other words Ave gon’ be on A&E once I take the V out
But Smack, then I said, “Fuck that.”
I balled that up, I said I can’t spit it that way
Then I got back to you in a definitive way
Like, “Nigga, I came out to damage you.”
You had to develop, I’m Ace Ventura I came out an animal
Y’all niggas wanna scrap?
Confrontation? I will smash dude, please
They gassin’ you? We can take the shit outside like a bathroom key
You from the hood where they be like, “Bro, that nigga crazy. He shady wit’ his.”
I’m from the hood they be like, “Bro, oh he crazy? Let’s see how crazy he is.”
If I want you gone, you gone, it don’t matter
Early/late, pearly gate, get ya girly ate
What you gon’ do with that lil’ pistol? Get sent to the Pearly Gates?
You ain’t Michael Jordan, you can’t play ill with that lil’ .38
Raw? Raw nothin’, if the Ross dumpin’, Raw runnin’
Arm across his chest like, “Hold on bro, a car comin’.”
Don’t start nothin’
He all bark, no bite, I know he barkin’
Hit him in his whip, left hangin’ out that bitch like Smokey parkin’
I catch him Home Alone like Macaulay, let’s have a hood run
Naw, on my mama I hang this brother over the ledge, but I’m the Good Son
You be actin’ tough, but you still a timid bitch
I be on some different shit
You read me wrong you get the throwaway, in other words Ill literate (illiterate)
You timid bitch
I show up on ya block on some different shit
Long nose, long sweeper, I’m the Wicked Witch
Smack, I told you I’m comin’ and I’m deadin’ this mission
Smack him with the Wesson, you gon’ eat the serial (cereal) next to ya moms like Craig in the kitchen
You remember when you talked to Ars’ about Beasley money

[Brizz]
Yes

[Ill Will]
And when he seen him comin’ it wasn’t even funny

[Brizz]
Facts

[Ill Will]
Well he was supposed to battle me that time
Shit I owed them niggas ’bout even money
But it wasn’t ‘grab me by my motherfuckin’ neck like “Nigga have you seen my money?'”
It wasn’t “No-no. Lock the door we ain’t leavin’ money.”
It was “Leave that Yak nigga alone he can keep the money.”
What payment? I don’t see the money
This ain’t even funny but you keep it from me
Cause you NC niggas got runny lips
Don’t make me come to North Carolina in disguised dreads and some bummy shit
Two .30’s all what a tummy get
Netflix, Dave Chappelle, you get like 60 for that funny shit
Don’t trip, I’m lit, and it’s my day homie
And if I send fo’ niggas to make a hit fo’ ya mama it ain’t [?] homies
Smack, I got that vet vision, that’s why I’m here, on Smack
Back cookin’ like a wet Gremlin, Glockin’ niggas
I hit the scene, Mr. Clean, one bald head, moppin’ niggas
Or I pull that 5th Element, your core beam (Corbin) when I’m rockin’ bitches
Y’all remember in 5th Element when Corbin had them rocks in bitches?
I don’t know y’all, I’ll fo’ fo’ y’all
Lil’ nigga will do it for cheap, I can bag of weed on ya head like Loc Dawg
The fo’ pop, it’s Stove Top, just for the cheap talkin’
I pull and peel those (pillows) out the oven like a Step Brother sleep walkin’
Get ya two some hit, ya crew movin’ I Duke Nukem shit
This AR depress, it’s goin’ through some shit
Rotten.com, I’m the first on sight (site) with some gruesome shit
Yeah they don’t know ’bout that
I’m from Pontiac, same place where Dr. Kevorkian live
Matter-of-fact I stay right around the corner from Dr. Kevorkian crib
Now I’m on national stages, doin’ what Dr. Kevorkian did
Killin’ these disabled niggas that ain’t got the patience (patients) to live
So what you gon’ do Raw? Up here actin’ like you Lou Rawls
I’m Ray Charles, I ain’t gotta see shit to shoot Raw
Disrespect, won’t be tolerated, don’t try it faggot
I come shootin’ wit’ my bitch, I can make the shot
Her arm still up like Synia practice
Yak Town man

[Round 3: Brizz Rawsteen]
My nigga, you been losin’ a lot
It’s like you put the “L’s” in “Will”
For the W I’ll give two L’s to Will
Nah that was wack
Bitch I was givin’ out L’s at will way before I had L’s to will
Now I”m just up here givin’ out an L to Will
My niggas dump, boy they be servin’ that Santana (san? tanner) than the skin on Juelz for real
Fuck however you feel
[?] Bitch I’ll put the dots on this bitch dogs like Cruela Deville
You gon’ make me really come hurt you
Nah, nah, really come murk you
All you really gon’ see is ya baby back and ribs like a Chilles commercial
Cut the rap shit
Cause you ain’t Smack gunner you Smack bitch
Don’t get smacked bitch
You came in gettin’ gassed bitch
You had a bunch of tongue ring bars that you escaped Alcatraz with
Then you ducked T-Top in that 106 BET champ shit
SMACK cut you off, you on the radio talkin’ mad shit
Tweetin’ all in his feelings like a mad bitch
See he was dancin’, but, none of his punches was landin’
Then he tried to get Gully on KOTD, but it just wasn’t Organik
Fuck the girl conversations
They know if I Blackout, it’s gon’ be World Domination
This a waste of my lines, I know, ya whole career, a big waste of yo’ time
You let yo’ city down, and you never made you a dime
He the gunner? Tell him to prove the shit cause he ain’t shootin’ shit
He see me? And wanna shoot the shit
In the ring, I introduce a bitch
I’m Bret Michaels, that’s a sharp shooter with super kick
Trust, if it don’t knock him down, it’s gon’ move some shit
These bullets had a hard life, they gon’ through some shit
You ridin’ with him? Cool, it’s enough room for you to fit, for you to fit, for you to fit
I’ma call ya mom, wife and sister like, “Bitch, I’m givin’ you the dick, you the dick and you the dick.”
Fuck all the stupid shit, I don’t care who you wit’
I do the shootin’ first, this strap will put all your genes in the bag
Aye Jaz, you want a Gucci purse?
Well you gotta give me some coochi first
It’s April 8th, how you feel about June the 1st?
I’m just puttin’ that in the universe
See how I steal the show? But I still can show
The difference between us and how it’s room for you still to grow
He ain’t nice as the nigga said, so I need every slice of the nigga bread
Or it’s a price on the nigga head
Top said, “Brizz cut it out.” I put a knife in the nigga head
All they seen was bodies on the Darkside, Night Of The Living Dead
Don’t act violent, it’s a MAC by him, but that’s Mackk Myron
Now keep Mack silent, or we throw on somethin’ to keep the MAC silent
Yong! Or it’s the Calicoe, if he ain’t dead, he better act like it
Fuck what ya boys is on, nigga my boys is on
They used to hit the stove and get the {tsk tsk} boil on
Now they got pumps, gas and birds like a royals farm
If Roc fightin’ then I’m fightin’, I get my loyal on
Fuck ya Jamaican, I got goons in Africa {gun cocking}
The guns got mo’ bodies than human traffickers
So step Willie, this my house, you just a pet Willie
I walk this dog and let the white people pet Willie
A bullet long as a finger in ya ear it ain’t Wet Willie
His body will wash up on the beach next to wet Willys
Fuck will power, I overpower Will
You ain’t got no power Will
The kid will pull up with the toys these ain’t power wheels (Wills)
Can y’all believe they said “Will will smoke him”?
I said, “You mean like when you do burnouts in the whip and the wheel be smokin’?”
Well bitch when I whip the burner out I bet Will be smokin’
To be blunt it’s a wrap when we roll up, I bet Will be smokin’
You ain’t no D-Boy nigga
I got the glow, you ain’t Leroy nigga
No don’t really get no respect from them Detroit niggas
I been to Pontiac, that shit is a ghost town
Everything except yo’ mama pussy is closed down

{Crowd starts chanting 3-0}

Where ya man Will P? Y’all should have a group called Up The Block
Cause when I came to Pontiac, I seen this nigga named Slink chase you and him up the block
That’s a fuckin’ fact you was fuckin’ runnin’
Ya fuckin’ dummy
Ain’t a nigga in this world can say he took nothin’ from me
We gon’ get it on my nigga
I gotta harm a nigga
And I’ma beat you ’til you crawl my nigga
The knife goes around and comes back around, it ain’t karma nigga
I gotta carve a nigga
George Washington style
For poppin’ shit out ya mouth, now I’m washin’ it out
I’m freestylin’ too

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