DNA vs. Rum Nitty [Lyrics]

[Round 1: DNA]
Summer Madness 6, shit I was rooting for you
Til my man said, “I’ma have you lookin’ dumb.”
I said, “How? Nigga JC be break dancin’, and by the looks of…that nigga Rum Nitty know what to do wit’ a gun.”
I seen that nigga JC first round, I switch my whole shit up like I’m rootin’ for son
Fuck Captain Morgan, give me Henny privilege, now I know that might be confusin’ to some
Until you y’all realize the ‘gnac (‘Yak) was smoother than Rum
I spot him, grab the Louisville then I start to follow
Use the bat and it circle red; Bacardi bottle
You that nasty type of Rum, I gotta chase wit’ juice
I’m still on Bacardi when I aim and shoot
Oh you don’t think I’m superior? The .80 proof
He almost had a fight wit’ Tay-Tay, I told you not to fuck wit’ them Dots
It almost got your shit iced, that’s what happens when you put Rum on the Rocs
Should I give him the rocket launcher pose? Nah I got a basic gun
I don’t care about life when I’m takin’ one
I bring it to the crib he in (Caribbean) and take what ya makin’ (Jamaican) Rum
Y’all just seen me snap wit’ Kannon, Kodak
And you gon’ get the end of these Hollow rounds, you sno’ dat
Dome wrap, I show up to every event, that’s a known fact
So after that first card he (Cardi) hit; Bodak
Ya bitch jump in, cool, I tell her, “Hold that”
Or I’ma put the four in her (foreigner) like Borat
Ya soul snatched, hold it sideways with both straps
So I peel wit’ this order (disorder) like Prozac
Stoppin’ those rounds, then I’m knockin’ off pounds; Joe Crack
Or you can get the old pick every Thursday; Throwback
KG jump in, they’ll be fixin’ the screen like the phone cracked
They both clap, I’m from Queens
The AZ nigga get the Firm grip if the Phone Tap
What y’all thought? I was gon’ come out here and load the sporter or clap a machete?
That’s when I was freestylin’, but I see y’all made side bets, cool
Well, I’m on ESPN: the machete helped get the deal like Spy Kids 2
What you a Crip wit’ ya fakin’ ass? If you don’t wanna die just (digest) move
You’se an imitation crab, baow, now try to process food
I’m smooth
Every time we hear you talk about ya hammers, I be thinkin’, “This nigga’s rhymes dangerous.”
But then when I see his hand gestures…look like the nigga be speakin’ in sign language
I don’t know if you tryin’ to say “Hi”, “Bye” or the Desi is cock
Well it’s Nintendo 64 if ya bitch ready to plot
I don’t care what Rum’ble pack
Once I spin around I bring an end to the block
Now if y’all got a Nintendo 64 controller, you should understand I should be schemin’ a little
A ya boys in blue butt in (button), I hope they keepin’ it simple
Cause once this goes up who’s ever left put right down if it’s C’s in the middle
Now anybody who had a Nintendo controller knew that A button was blue and the up, right, left, down had a C in the middle
But they ask how he don’t choke when he spit frees in the game
Well that’s cause I’m heartless to the block
So if I have to reset, I’ma blow, and leave a cartridge in his top
Now do y’all all remember why we used to get that Nintendo system?
Well if y’all don’t y’all gon’ know it later
He gon’ be the first plug wit’ four sticks in his front, we goin’ multiplayer
Nigga told me Rum Nitty shot dude
I said, “How? He 5’2″.”
But niggas said that his .40 spittin’, and y’all all would listen
It’s Eddie Murphy in Life: you got bars wit’ the wrong conviction
You just can’t get right, you in a tough bind
Unless you talk about how you dump nines or the pump rise
But what good is havin’ ya biscuit if you still bodied over the gun line?
Now when y’all think about that, y’all should know that I got respect
I’m on him and I got a TEC
Look at his shirt I’m on it, he’ll have matchin’ kicks that’s word to Bobby Fresh
I’m the best
Niggas just say look what I did to Kannon last week
And now this nigga wanna test
He got smoked for loungin’ around, now y’all can guess who the next is (Nexus)
I’m wildin’, but what’s your slogan?
You can’t keep it real yourself
Well first off, you gotta have Jordans that’s real themselves
Nigga walked into the venue wit’ them fake kicks brushin’ his shoulder and started to feel himself
But the way that Jordan sign was hangin’, he looked like he wanted to kill himself
Round 1

[Round 1: Rum Nitty]
We got Rum Nitty versus 50 Tyson A-Town
AKA DNA, lil’ Eric St. John, I know your type well
Never dumped a nine shell, put drugs on no type scale
You never sold dope a day in ya life, hell
How you DNA and know nothin’ ’bout white sales (cells)?
If you was trappin’, niggas would’ve hemmed you up
Like, “Give it up!”
Took ya pills, coke, weed and plugged you for your H, D (HD) am I bein’ clear enough?
You scary, but be the main one talkin’ ’bout you’ll pull somethin’ out and air it
You just run ya mouth Eric
Dome shot, caught DNA in the wig, like Something About Mary
This won’t be enough, he needs more, we bring war
Marksman, I hold one eye closed on the mil’ and let D, see four
Bitch, this .39 will spit
Shit flyin’ out to St. John like a Virgin Island’s trip
First round I stretch thangs, second and third lead spray
Patience, I’m just workin’ upper (up a) body like I skipped a leg day
You caught the scheme? Every bars mean
You don’t want smoke
Cause if D’s top shit, he’ll get bodied clean
You hit L.A., it’s Venice Beach, good trees all kinda thangs
Today Was A Good Day, and it ends wit’ a chopper scene
Mean, y’all the reason why niggas sayin’ battling’s lame
Cause we got 100 Wack niggas tryin’ to manage The Game
I can’t lie, you a legend, but I’m the one with the nose runnin’ like a sinus infection
You can’t bar wit’ me, if he try I’ma stretch him
You walkin’ a thin line tryin’ to follow the pen like sobriety testin’
I’m nice wit’ it, get ya life ended by a nigga that like grippin’
Ridin’ around wit’ it on me tryin’ to see you die quicker
So if Rum in the whip wit’ the .40 then DUI nigga
You never empty clips have you?
Soon as you go to spray yo’ machete I’ma bitch slap you
I brung out a pair, these guns I’ma air
I grab the mop stick, spray ’em on ya, I’m tryin’ to get DNA the fuck outta here
You know mop stick, spray ammonia, he a die
I aim at his melanin (melon and) light it up, then sent him to see the God
Ya homie dumped the heat this time cause you’se a hatin’ ass nigga
You don’t wanna see me Shine
Point blank the lead will stretch him
Shit be two feet from his face like the head detective
Baow! Long [?] I squeeze cause the fans came to see D (CD) get dropped
So it’s All Eyez On Me, it won’t be a Life After Death
I get all y’all hit, cause you fake, fraudulent, not the real thang
Y’all caught my drift like he’s an off brand, not legit
So I get twisted, drunk off the gin Eric (generic) and knock off shit
You can’t keep it real yaself, nigga suicide, I’ll do the job, you decide
Kill yaself

[Round 2: DNA]
You said give ’em two of them thangs?
Well I ain’t Chef Trez but get the shovel out cause this is the round where I dig ditches
Wack 100, everybody wanna manage The Game until they get Stitches
Now, Rum Nitty, a Crip from Arizona, whoo! That just sound like he lettin’ ‘off shells
Then I found out ya real name, and I can fuck with the Powell, I just can’t get with the Cornell
Cornell? That shit just sound like he stupid
If I tell y’all Cornell and Damien are fightin’ it just sounds like you losin’
Cornell University, nigga you sound like a student
It just sound like you’d do it, I catch him at his job, stomach shot, nigga gotta hold his bowels
[?] Secretary Of State is you lost a colon (Colin), Powell
But every time we see you, it’s gun line, gun line
Lighten up a bit, tell a jock sometimes
Gun line, gun line, I need y’all to picture Nitty on the lunch line
Soon as he saw the meal (mil’) wit’ the tray (tre) he got a punchline
Gun line, gun line, nigga only met 50 one time
But once he realize he pose with the…that’s another punchline
Gun line, gun line, the nigga had a shawty one time
Ass fat, dumb fine, and the whole mood got ruined soon as she put on Drumline
Gun line, gun line, nah switch that, his shit crack the nine by his lung
Big strap the kickback, I rely on a pump
Aye Shine it’s Double Impact, Clyde I Glide when he jump
Sig’ clap, since you live by it you gon’ die by the gun
HK, SK, TEC came wit’ the mean laser
.40 we keep blazin’
Y’all lost to NYB, let’s just say that that team’s greater
Do the Math, you’ll be facin’ 2 to 4, oh y’all get that scheme later
Since you violated Cort’ (court) you’ll see the mil’ (Mill) in the can’; Dreamchasers
But y’all front on DNA
Why? Cause I’m 26 and accomplished more a lot of other niggas?
I guess the hate they can’t wait to bring
I’m on ESPN like Melo and Westbrook chasin’ rings
I’m still a monster in this world, I should be named the king
They say the king makin’ moves outta his mind
And my reply is I’ve seen Stranger Things
I’m on a big screen, cause I spit mean and I showed ’em I’m dope out the ring
Mitch Green, if I don’t get him on the first take with the inf’ beam
Pardon the interruption, debate over the split screen
2K menus, we pick teams
Ya lines couldn’t measure up if you sip lean
They say “battle rap is a hustle” you know how much I made off this big scheme?
He’ll be facin’ a Shotgun, you’ll get the rip quicker than Flip jeans
But if you get knocked? As far as KG and ya manager?
Well all those immune Nitty
But you ain’t safe cause you back in jails
I’m too sick think Lupus, I attack yo’ cells
This Phoenix son (Son) a PG?
They say, “Be cautious when he aimin’ a pump.”
Well if Eric bled so (Bledsoe) be it, I’m goin’ straight to the Bucks
I’m in the van Nitty, all this shit this bitch make up (makeup)
You need a van Nitty (vanity) your run with the Knicks was shorter than Linsanity
Ya men too get fucked up, that’s insanity
Then I wrap the (Raptor) arm when jam like Vince sanity
I’ll catch him in the Infinity, how many shots? Infinity
This gon’ be an end for Nitty, I serve all my problems wit’ a beam, I got an end for Nitty
I don’t dig Nitty, whoever dig Nitty gon’ have to dig Nitty
Losin’ they pride and they dignity
Now you see what I just did Nitty?
I showed ’em how to come across three ways like the Trinity
But I don’t follow trends Nitty, I send the trend Nitty
Everybody else fooled in The Matrix but I ain’t Trinity
And as far as your slogan, you can’t keep it real yourself
Well in 2017 if you still wear big snap back and baggy jeans you should kill yaself
Time

[Round 2: Rum Nitty]
This won’t be a classic, I’ma bag you
Cause I don’t take you serious and you ain’t ’bout action you just rappin’
Niggas ain’t fly in cause we drove with ratchets to the battle
I packed my pistol, And 1 dribble, I like to travel wit’ the handle
But ya man will get the weapon
I’ll skip to the Escalade, and get somethin’ to handle the Professor
But I hate you bitches
If I catch a player slippin’, 100 in the clip, you gettin’ 80 D (ADD); pay attention!
Listen, I’ll leave you leakin’ wit’ the .50
You don’t believe it? Nigga tempt me
And have another thing Coming To him Eric(a), see a nigga reachin’ for the semi
That’s how the fo’ rockin’, cold patna
Soon as you get to thinkin’ of rebuttals I dome shot him
Don’t start him, that’s how we flex
G check, soon as the kid came out got D pressed (depressed); post partum
I’ll get you and ya nigga hit, grab the pump and gauge (engage) both you bitches, you think somethin’ this big’ll miss (bigamist)?
If this nigga trip, then off top I address (a dress) DNA on the spot; Monica Lewinsky shit
My shooters will leave you dead for cheap
So for the record, there’s a bag on ya head like a Death Row piece
Peep, we bring burners through
100 shots, get the whole scene served in groups
You should me versus Mook
Cause if you can get rid of DNA you could probably beat Murda too
I’ll spray rounds at you, from a big gun
This a carbine M1 (car by Em’ one) like an 8 Mile battle
Somethin’ chunky off the waist, then I asked this bitch, “What’s the procedure when a gun is in ya face?”
I give a fuck if niggas brave, I’ll put a beam on the chop
This K. Dot will humble DNA
I’ll pull up where this bitch live, whole clique’s live
Since this is east vs. west, the gun I use to hit ’em up, this big
You let Magic end ya life, gave you a Spirit flight
You lost to Jerry hella (Heller) bad, that nigga killed Eric, right (Wright)?
Between ya eyes I put the pistol, let it blow
It look like AC/DC it look like lightening in the middle
And y’all niggas be writin’ together, I see the team effort
But just me, by myself? I can easily stretch him, don’t matter who wrote it
I’m punchin’ in every line like an Eazy E session
Wess’ him, I done hit yo’ neighborhood up like that
But you pussy, you wouldn’t come out through the C section you ain’t cut like that
You ain’t Nina squeezin’, I can’t even see you swingin’
You got no nuts, cause when Chess rolled up, this bitch froze up like Kenneka Jenkins
You a ho just admit it, I can handle lil’ homie the pistol
And on the double he licks (helix) shots, DNA don’t get it twisted
Bitch you can’t keep it real yaself
Bitch suicide or I’ll do the job, you decide
(Kill yourself!)

[Round 3: DNA]
Now the whole thing I was confused about in that last round in the meanwhile
Is how the fuck can you say we writin’ together when I’m a nigga that freestyles?
I’m lost about everything you just said
So me not writin’ wit’ niggas, you right dude
You right Jerry killed Heller and Eric Wright
But you gon’ need to see a Dr. after these Ice Cubes
What you think he talkin’ ’bout?
How he think he ill like this dummy wanna rap?
And it is Coming To America, that last line was me gettin’ that monkey off my back
I’m ready for war, so all the bullshit he talkin’ ’bout he should knock off
You should stop boss, you right about Professor
But he wrong cause I carry all the time, I’m hot sauce
What we doin’?
Now, y’all remember when I battled KG and I said, “if I ever see Nitty in my city I’ma have the whole club shootin'”
And, “I can’t wait for Smack to give D Rum so I can put the drum to him”?
Well he just ain’t know it’s gonna be today
Cause now it’s a rap for Rum (forum); OBGVA
You was first in the 4th Quarter, then you was Writer’s Bloque
Then you joined Team Homi
And Smack got the nerve to say, “You can’t trust these vets”
That’s like a nigga bein’ Crip, then Blood then Latin King, it’s no way you jump three sets
But what you do for the 4th Quarter?
Give him $200 and a feelin’ he might dub me next
I mean you only gave him crumbs but y’all all act like y’all don’t see Rum BS
I can tell he a snake, just off aura
Just in and get the mil’ (meal) by mistake; wrong order
Last year’s finals, Lebron, equal dollar it’s all awkward
Cause you gon’ be tied up when I get block shot in the 4th Quarter
I’m snappin’ from the jump, nigga I’ll Paul George ya
Even got me gunnin’ ’em all (mall), I’ll Paul Blart ya
Fast & Furious with the .357; Paul Walker
I see a clown and target the face, you ever Saw torture?
You new niggas just don’t got it? Y’all fall flat
Cause every time URL give me a battle, they never call back
Kenan and Kel, pay attention to the spin off All That
Cause every time you train you, you get derailed but you can’t fault Smack
Cause he tried to give this locomotive (loco motive) to stay on track
But you don’t got it
(Ave said that!)
Oh Ave said that? Well that was a battle earlier, now I’ma freestyle
Check it, all the shit on the roads and the shit I did I pave-
(Don’t boo, cause you gon’ go crazy when you hear this
So stop. I promise you)
Now for the nigga that wanted to boo, I like that Ave just said this
But I’m on ESPN, look at all the roads I’ve paved
And y’all think I would steal from a nigga in the Cave?
Damn, y’all disrespectin’ bad
All the battles I saved, and I can’t get a wave or a second laugh
I mean I showed that I’m brave
What else? I even showed y’all gave
And y’all still wanna check my past?
Wait, pave, Cave, wave, save, that fast I’ll be endin’ Ave
Now I’m back to the bars
Now niggas say, “DNA battles too much. He needs more rest.”
But I tell ’em I want rep’, so on every card he get the ring and I off sets
BET, ESPN, I’m on Flex
Wild N’ Out, Hitman, Con’, Clips, they all threats
How we all get our fit in the game while you stuck at the doorstep?
You’ve been battlin’ for years, had potential when they put you on Rex
And it went all left, I’m talkin’ before Chess
Then they gave you Roc and Clips to get more rep’
You still ain’t endorsed yet?
We gave URL Summer Madness, with y’all they lost checks
Now I ain’t come up here to preach like B. Dot and talk about how gang violence can cause death
Cause if ya soldiers off TECs, Nitty’s gettin’ buried wit’ his flag like war vets
Let me guess, before rap, you used to sell drugs then you went broke for a long stretch
That got me more vexed
You supposed to gain weight off the yay’ (‘Ye) baby, that’s North West
This whole punchline back to back hit and miss flow, I can’t fuckin’ stand it
Why you think niggas like B Magic and Ty Law just upped and vanished?
What do I gotta break it down like boxin’ for y’all to understand it?
You don’t get points off punches thrown only for the ones that landed
And countless amount of times, we see him tell us how the deuce deuce is tucked in the booth
Or how the gun’ll just shoot
To the point we all punch drunk and done with this goof
I don’t know if you don’t got no content, you watered down or son ain’t the truth
But usually when you have too much Rum you should suffer from substance abuse
But not in this case, you spit random lines and make the crowd go major
While I set up so my whole punch will (hole puncher) make the round on paper
Y’all ever seen that movie Live & Die In L.A.?
Well they couldn’t have picked a better actor
I already gave William da fo’ (Dafoe) and now this is a card Eric Masters
It’s round three it’s gettin’ hot in here
Traffic, what’s my slogan?
(Get him the fuck outta here!)
Hell no, get everybody who thought he was hot the fuck outta here
Get all ya crews, Team Homi, 4th Quarter and Writer’s Bloque the fuck outta here
Get this nigga that’s in a coffin the fuck outta here
And I like that you stepped ya shit up but get them fake Jordans the fuck outta here

[Round 3: Rum Nitty]
It’s dirty how I’m finna do y’all cause I can’t cool off
I get to flippin’ with bodies on the stick like fuseball
I’ll pull the slide back like a moonwalk and shoot dawg
And I put that on my kids like blue balls
I got the iron, you think not than try me
Then I rush in and get a mil’ fast as Oxxxymiron
You better slang yours
Right hook, get DZ’s that’s what they put me on stage for
You finna die, you be just talkin’, I be TEC poppin’
We not the same DNA, but this still (steel) will raise you, I’m a step father
I don’t play that shit
One in ya forehead, will give you a 2K face game glitch
You not wit’ the shits
So I won’t even bang on him
Plus it’s apparent (a parent) that I’m Crippin’ like DNA mama
You do a lot of playin’, we not for gamin’
I tell my niggas, “If he got on gold, jack it (jacket).”
Then get his head bust, he a Hall Of Famer
Get all y’all flamed up, then I’m knockin’ Top out
See the West nigga rockin’ a bear like College Dropout
Then Terrance get this tool I grip
I pull out jeans, have T laid out by the kicks, this a first day of school outfit
I gives a fuck about yo’ wordplay
You trash
Don’t nobody check for DNA but the sperm bank
Bitch, just let me know if you want smoke
You can’t compare me to the kid if you know I’m bein’ close
Cause DNA’s not a match, I’ll have this bitch runnin’ back like Maury Show results
Niggas know it’s over though
Shit get real, my clique (click) on ya heels like Dorothy goin’ home
Let’s scrap fam’
I’ll Drop The Bomb on a nigga from the Gap Band
Straps blam, the arms put you two feet in the sky like a hand stand
This guy won’t make it
I’ma Wildcat wit’ a shotgun, I’ll let it split backs or go through your I (eye) formation
Crazy
You’ll get the biggest weapon, .357, you want no smoke
I’ll let the nose smoke like it’s French inhalin’
Burn the body, make it hard for forensic testin’
If there’s no DNA in DNA then what they use? Dental records
Bitch!
You can’t keep it re-
{Rum can’t finish his slogan because the crowd starts chanting “3-0”}

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