Math Hoffa vs. Ill Will [Lyrics]

[Round 1: Math Hoffa]
Yo I came in this game bullyin’ vets and I became the king
You came in, bullyin’ rookies and got ya name to ring
But with the seasoned ones, Will lost
So how’s it safe to think that he could catch a win on a rider? (Winona Ryder)
Well I seen Stranger Things
Season One, Will lost, Stranger Things?
Never doubt the skill cause I’m season two, y’all gon’ see me take the monster outta Will
I’m out to kill with an ill will, so we can skip the talkin’
I’m Dr. Strange, I wave these hands and rounds get to sparkin’
The crowd duckin’
Security like, “How he get the Larkin?”
I cheated, I had my bitch carryin’ I’m Tristan Thompson
I should’ve killed this nigga on Smack
But it ain’t happen it was ill timin’
If King Of The Dot would’ve picked it up, y’all would see Will fryin’
But this is RBE, nigga please, this nigga still dyin’
Black Ice the only chance you had to seein’ Will slidin’
See Will I’ve been, workin’ hard to regain the hunger
Reminiscing on my days of thunder
When I was a diamond in the rough like Aladdin, I came to plunder
Quick lift the Desert, open up on niggas like the Cave Of Wonder
See, I’m kinda emotional right now, cause me bein’ here is like an act of God
Cause before battle rappin’ dawg, I was fucked up and I had to rob
I used to come to this area, you can ask the squad, mask and all
So I can relate more to the fans, I’m used to catchin’ bars
I came up with commandos that creep and keep the can’ low
We was comin’ through takin’ niggas jewels before Thanos
But what’s your background? You pistol whipped a chick?
Man you pussy, dawg
You spend most of your time lyin’ in bars, you Cookie dawg
Try that shit wit’ me, you gon’ be catchin’ a hook
I’ll read through it and deck somethin’ like the back of a book
Now re-do it, index, somethin’ at the back of a book
I know ya story, how ’bout ya moms get attacked by a crook
Knock her fronts out, make over, give her that Fabolous look
But I ain’t gon’ hit no women, cause that shit just mean you type weaker
This is Big T in a tank top, y’all ’bout to see me stretch this wife beater
I said I got a nice Nina, I call her “Bonnie”, it’ll be you up
Oh y’all ain’t catch that? Do the Math, he ’bout to eat the butt
You quit for five minutes now you back out nice
I got some rules, you act a fool, we can flat out fight
If Mack jump in the way, I pull a black long knife
Get ya screen stuck, that Mac’ll get hacked on sight
You ain’t tough, you rap loud and you act all hype
Before you rap a round, pussy! You the strap on dykes
I squeeze, make your skull look like it spat our rice
I guarantee my Calicoe will have to back out twice!
Nigga you don’t got bars like that
You a bitch, you be beatin’ broads, why you beat them broads like that?
So try not to fall asleep you know his bars type wack
And I’ll be here next round to bring them bars right back!

[Round 1: Ill Will]
I expect niggas to listen to bullshit, that can’t be you
I beat on bitches, {sighs} I’ma let that shit die down like fake shit do
But bullshit be happenin’ in my rounds on RBE
Every time! I be wiggin’ too
Next time somethin’ happen I’m knockin’ Jimz out
(The fuck you do that for?)
I don’t know, it just seem like the shit to do
Math Hoffa, the legend, the nigga with the dangerous flow
Ayo I just had a daughter this mornin’
This lil’ bitch but I don’t be claimin’ her tho’
Aimin’ the fo’
One wrong move I’m blastin’ his ass
Math splattered on the wall
They ain’t know if it was a crime scene or algebra class
Fuck fightin’, you right, cause I’m a shooter fam’
Psst, if I give the doctors a Math problem they gon’ need more than a tutor fam’
Ruger blam, nah, I go with the .357, I’m in his hood with the thumper
How ironic it make Math wiz, but I’m good with the numbers
A nigga told me, “What if Math try to hoe you? Cause he a goon and he shoot them heaters.”
I said, “Math cool low key. And this just rap. And he ain’t stupid neither.”
Okay the chrome is tight
Dome shot, I’ll open ya mind up, I need yo’ advice
You know what’ll happen if I get to zonin’, right?
Think Jaheim and Just In (Justin) Case he won’t make it home tonight
Bro, we shoot them heaters and forget them ratchets like, “Them not my bitches”
I ain’t gon’ talk about you gettin’ lumped on contract, cause that’s somethin’ that’s not my business
But what I do wanna talk about, is why you was mad at me?
Talkin’ durin’ my rounds during Summer Madness 3
Then you socked Serious Jones- hold on was that for me?!
I mean, don’t keep me in the dark my nigga, it’s okay to say
You said you was hungry when you did it, bitch I hope you ate today
I know you be with that Rican, I don’t care what he gave you
I know he a dork
I’ll show up with a high profile case, a lot of bullets will hit Math but a lot of ’em will show up in Court (Cort’)
Yo’ bitch know I’m a freak, I had a threesome with her and ya moms, I’ll make her eat ya moms
The gun a freak too
Scope on the machine, it’s a peeping Tom
Burst the semi, your bitch see my evil and get the worst that’s in me
Chop off her right arm then shoot off the left leg like Dirk Nowitzki
Math, I’ve bloodied dudes
Not my wife but the bitch can get the bullets if she take money from me
I blood crews
And I had ya moms off the card he sellin’ pussy on her period
Bitch makin’ blood moves
I got bucks wit’ me, you can have the money Math
I don’t fuck wit’ these niggas, these judges don’t fuck wit’ me!
‘Yak Town in this bitch!

[Round 2: Math Hoffa]
Yo, people think that you a grimy dude
And honestly, it might be true
But the only evidence we got is you always dressin’ like it’s ’92
Like, what time are you on my nigga?
The aura you puttin’ out, oh, every time I see you
You look like a fuckin’ model for South Pole
But let’s reroute though
But you gon’ die today
Team Homi, please step out the way
Cause for some fame this lame will do wrong like he did Lotta Zay
Y’all remember he told Lotta Zay, “Oh we on the same team. How I’ma disrespect him to the core? Man fuck you, I love the real niggas in my hood more!”
I’m like, “Whoa!” I’m from New York, where Team Homi started, that’s a fact fam’
Swave, Pen, Five, Ike, those my niggas, and that’s a fact fam’
Don’t get Smacked behind promoting that smoke, this ain’t the Yak, Man
Shout out to my real Team Homi niggas, y’all real think that Will care?
Don’t break ya back for a nigga you know won’t push ya wheel chair
Cause it’s real clear that son disrespected
But hey, I don’t know, you know me
If a nigga ain’t Loyal I let a Hollow go, you follow bro?
I ain’t hip to the fraud movement
I catch y’all crusin’ in a whip, I’m gon’ shoot him
Pull my hoodie up, pull out the fifth and walk to him
Squeeze five in his Pontiac nigga, that’s car poolin’
I’ll put the [?] to him, shotgun, I let the gauge bang
BAOW! Now we don’t know if he Team Homi or Cave Gang
I left him on the Ave, you can’t Roc(k) wit’ me nigga
This McDonald’s, I do you sloppy, this is not what they pictured
You thought that you could come out here and get the spot of a killer?
I solidify my spot with gorillas!
And I don’t rock wit’ you niggas!
This nigga be spittin’ weird bars, your battle rappin’ is booty
If it ain’t that, he made a reference to the rats in his movies
I’m at a higher level, drama, if this actor pursue me
I have Will talkin’ to death, that’s the Collateral Beauty
But Will I can tell that you like New York, especially Brooklyn, Will
Cause you peeped two Brooklyn niggas styles and you took ’em Will
That slow it down, speed it up, if you concentrate, the rhymes you make
Can tell you had to contemplate
Now if y’all ain’t catch that line, just wait
He took Conceited’s structure and built his own that’s a Con’-template
But what you took from me! That Jamaican shit that you sloppy at
Everybody know, ain’t no fuckin’ Jamaicans way out in Pontiac
You been sweatin’ the flow (flo’) for awhile, you a Pilatie mat
So it’s only right that I show Will the way to body that
You I call Ill Will’s Jamaican connect y’all
I said, “Yo, I heard you Will plug.”
He said, “Nah, me had dem other friend
We treat him like a dance hall.”
I said, “Dance hall?” I ain’t know what he meant
I said, “Define that.”
He said, “When Will sleep we check his mother dem. She suck me friend. We tell her to **wheel (Will) up**. He have to come again!”
Nigga, you don’t got bars like that
“He idiot bwoy. [?] ye can’t talk like that”
So try not to fall asleep you know his bars type wack
And I’ll be here next round to bring them bars right back!
Hoffa!

[Round 2: Ill Will]
Aye, I just wanna say, I’m already solidified in this shit, I’m set for life
I know y’all agree wit’ this, this is the best Math I have ever seen in my life
But I swear to God I ain’t gon’ or say nothin’ to make you put your hands on me
Not even a lil’ Dose
I’m Serius!
I wanna dash like DIzaster
But people wanna start wars
You know, use Jedi mind tricks to see Star Wars
But that’s damn promo man, this man no no
One jab will [?] show you why he don’t want these hands (Han) Solo
I’ll pull a .38 see Math and snub his face
This bitch been crazy since I bagged her
Thin Line Between Love & Hate
Bro, we straight, I’m the temperature checker bruh
The fifth stretchin’ ya
The .40 twist Math, y’all lookin’ at Math backwards; dyslexia
Throat shot in NY, hit ya adam’s family
I @ my family to get at him family
Pull up in that Thing, hand lettin’ It loose like the Addam’s Family
I do my dirty work wit’ bitches though
I don’t beat ’em, I work wit’ em
Like, “Baby. Get that Glock out the safe.”
You don’t even know that I know her, but she in every spot that you play
I might be in the club too, [?] in the face
Catch her outside like, “Damn. Baby why don’t you drop that Math.” Then you get shot in the face
This our chamber, you ain’t prepared for our danger
I got a nigga that just like to kill, he a powder taker
All he do is talk wit’ the arms, he a Power Ranger
Bruh, let’s just see who battle the best
Act tough Math then tough math on the arm, I’m cheatin’ on my calculus test
Act Math, bad Math, this the last Math
I got a youngin’ that don’t know how to add but he can subtract Math
Look, look, look, but I gave him my address and some money so he caught the sale
Oh, and now he know Math, I taught him well
Psst, brought them shells, pasta shells
But the nine slay you, oh them lil’ niggas multiplied on Math, they know they time tables
Lil’ demons wit’ me, heat him for free
All the people will see is me puttin’ him up on Math
I done got a teachin’ degree
Peep the degrees, it factor and he don’t have it either
Sheeeit, bitches love ridin’ my wave and
Ill be all in that water like Cabin Fever
I got yo’ bitch in the house, tied up, she’s soon to be injured
Soon as we pass words, I’ll let her disappear, soon as you enter
Cause you know how you got a password, the letter disappears
Fuck it, y’all grabbed it late
While that’s goin’ on, mask get tapped
Blast it, Math get laid
I got a nigga that’ll do Math all wrong and still graduate
Originality, respect my spot
Niggas try to bite Ill and get a tetanus shot
‘Tak Town in this bitch!

[Round 3: Math Hoffa]
Yo, can I get serious for a second?
Now this is a story all about how his life got twisted and upside down
And I’d like to take a second just sit right there
I’ll tell you how this nigga Ill Will fucked up his career
When I first saw Ill Will, I can’t lie y’all, I seen the hunger
He was killin’, lookin’ at Smack like, “I can be ya gunner.”
Then you battled DNA and found out them niggas leaked ya number
You wasn’t really gettin’ paid, just played, they had you feelin’ suckered
So just like a chick that meet a guy and thinkin’ that he lovin’ her
But he not claimin’ but tellin’ the whole world that he fuckin’ her
When that chick want revenge, what she do? Pull a slutty move
You on Twitter like, “Hey Organik. What’s up witchu?”
So Smack let you go just to show that he don’t need ya
I ain’t sayin’ you bitch made…but ya tag say you was made in Ho-rean
Now Organik peep game, this hoe just wanted revenge
He brought you through his man B, and never called you again
Now while this shit is goin’ down, I’m sittin’ back and just watchin’
I ain’t gon’ say you bitch made…but ya tag say you a 100% thotting
Now here come ARP, he picked you up, I was like, “Way to go.”
He got you nice bags, but that’s sad, he Captain Save-A-Hoe
This bitch used to niggas that cold and like to dog her out
So when that first nigga called back, yup, this broad was out
Back to Smack, talkin’ ’bout, “I thought I was your gunner Smack.”
Soundin’ like, “I thought that we was lovers Smack.”
After a couple dates, son wanted to quit
It’s like a chick that turn lez and say she done wit’ the dick
I wasn’t around, so the father that you wanted was miss
I ain’t gon’ say you bitch made, but you a dumb little bitch
Now it’s comin’ to this
You return to the best, right now you in Jimz laundry mat gettin’ a permanent press
This the drier on high I’m ’bout to burn him to death
For all the fans that think you fire, I’ma earn (urn) your respect
Now, DNA killed this nigga, but P you think he nicer than me?
I said I got somethin’ to fix, Ill, go ‘head invite him in, see (vitamin C)
Silencer on the tip, before that gun powder breathes
All you hear is ppf, ppf, ppf, sound like I’m eatin’ sunflower seeds
For Will, you a bitch Will
You dial 911, I’ma butter knife him, cut a slice in
He get stuck tryin’ to call it like Rum and Iron
The regulator, I slide the blade up his body like an escalator
Better yet, .38 long, I bet a shell will tame ya
Fuck talkin’, I’ma demonstrator
I squeeze the nose on Will like, “Yo holmes, smell ya later!”
Now yo, durin’ ya Tay Roc battle, you was speakin’ some dumb shit
Now that I’m here, I think it’s time speak on the subject
You said I stole Bonnie from you my nigga?
Either that’s true or he a creep cause he frontin’
Was you smashin’ and got mad she found a G that she wanted?
So in a rage you hit the stage and leaked the secret in public
Honestly, I don’t think you hit nigga, keep it 100
But since you like lyin’ on ya dick, BAOW! Now you can sleep on ya stomach
John John, my guess is he’s tried to holla, and I’m the reason he ain’t get to swerve
She put him on the back burner, you a Flat Earther, nigga respect the curve
Yo, this nigga’s such a fuckin’ lame, I know that these bars killin’ him
Bitches been switchin’ up on Will since Aunt Vivian
But let’s switch that, get back, these niggas act tough but they be all hype
I bust (bus) in the air, this nigga divin’, we playin’ Fortnite
Before I would meet Will, I guarantee it would be a short flight
Nina, I had this bitch ringin’ off like a divorced wife
Now, you could say, your loses come form the top tiers
I lose when I do not care
You can say my stock dropped, but look Aak, you gotta stop there
Cause that feelin’ of how it is at the top? You never got there
I seen the predictions on this battle, y’all niggas is reckless
Like I’m a legend and I think it’s time we get this shit in perspective
He ain’t fit to be my nemesis, he fit for an apprentice
You got a shout out, I got a record
You see the difference in Method?
Three battles in three weeks! Nigga I’m goin’ on a run for real
I’m in pursuit of Happyness, so I had to make a movie sonning Will
Hoffa

[Round 3: Ill Will]
I’ve been on more big stages than you my nigga
But you a vet! It just don’t add up how people be smokin’
You lost division, I multiply, not even close to you, you less than
I’m greater than, you, and ’bout that action
I subtract him and take one half from him and leave him in fractions
I enter Jerz, if that where he at
And let the thing pop
He gon’ rap a cute (acute) angle but it don’t even be 90 degrees hot
He say he wit’ it, but my calculations tell me that bluffin’ to me
As far as blood, lay in the fountain, Asian accountant, Math ain’t nothin’ to me
This nigga told Shotti P, “The .40 will make that weight cut out. It’s lypo
But wait, I got this rifle
The kick will make you spin when it point, I call it ‘Michael.”
That was turds bro
Chop it up how you want, that’s what I heard bro
But if that’s the case that ain’t where the shit stop
I’m in his buildin’, on the third flo’
Arm wavin’ when I pop locks (poplock), I call it Turbo
I’m on his street wit’ a big ratchet, like, “Let me see if he playin’.”
.40 open his mind up like, “Oh…I see whatchu sayin.”
Shit’ll vanish, I cause more than a little panic
I got stabbed, it was a little damage
Now I’m havin’ a good time with Iron, I call it ‘Little Janet’
But my white boy will take off half ya chest, that’s ‘Big Janet’
Now I know that was super bold, but this just a thought
Don’t blame Janet, it was Justin fault
But you built ya whole career off of depression
What’s wrong bro? You need some help?
I was gonna say cause as black men we gotta help each other
Encourage and motivate…stupid muhfucka
I remember when I caught this gun case, bro I had to do anger management and shit
After jail it was some bullshit that they made me do
But one thing that I did learn is that there’s always somebody crazier or just as crazy as you
Now I ain’t sayin’ that it’s me, but I ain’t sayin’ that it’s not me either
I ain’t have to punch a nigga on cam’ or rap to solidify no spot neither
But y’all know Math, want attention, Kanye type
I’m no stressin’, wit’ his mama, it’s Bombay night
My bars done turned Boyz II Men, I’m the Wayna type
But you solidified yo’ spot will- BAOW! To live a [?] life
Nigga peep the shit, keep ya lips, sealed or make a Jesus trip
This right/left and shit, cook like a pregnant bitch
Nasty combination but you gon’ eat the shit
I’ll have a threesome wit’ yo’ mama and yo’ baby mama and you ain’t gon’ trip
You just gon’ see me pull yo’ hoe out that hot box like Django bitch
If we warrin’, we warrin, there’s no stoppin’
Fo’ poppin’, powder residue on the big nose they got a coke problem
Nigga ask anybody in the ‘Yak, call any person
I ain’t lyin’ I’m legit, I be hidin’ in a nigga whip, fryin’ a nigga bitch
Shells hit his back, burnin’ his disc, “I ain’t buyin’ this nigga’s shit.”
I call my Jamaican nigga

[Blik Da Barbarian speaks Patois] [?] the situation
[Will] I mean I need some different tools and I’ll blast him in a minute
[Blik] Alright, what’s two plus two?
[Will] Fo’
[Blik] Alright, what’s two times two?
[Will] Fo’, but that’s the same I need my wrath a lil’ different
[Blik] It equal the same ting, but they gonna handle Math a little different

[Ill Will]
Y’all gotta clear that shit
All that bullshit y’all talk, I don’t wanna hear that shit
Stay in y’all lane, steer that shit
Except they gon’ be at yo’ funeral like, “How do I-“
BAOW! I don’t wanna hear that shit!
Yak Town in this bitch

Follow us on Twitter @BattleLyrics

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s