Tumi vs. Bender [Lyrics]

[Verse 1: Tumi]
Dave, this is not Illmaculate
You sold me a legend
A fairytale of the dwarf prince with a death wish
But now that Greg’s king, that princess demanding extra shit
So you’ve had to raise Sleeping Beauty to get a death kiss
Congratulations booboo, you are now in Africa
On behalf of Dave, can’t promise you get paid
But you get YouTube like a urinary catheter
So everybody expecting some great lyrical bar-fest
Gorilla speak and that Genesis clinical trial test
Possible body even, I’m thinking the first trimester
But if he try flexing, showboating some tiger-like effort
I make him a Life of Pi lesson so gruesome, heinous
I go orangutan, ape-shit and turn this mother to a dying zebra
Five-star general, Sani Abacha in the Delta
Your little King of the Dot record don’t cut it in my selection
All that, painting yourself as legend but couldn’t sketch a menace, that’s less than impressive
See they let you hold the chain and, doggy Pat Stay
But no shot again, you went from vet to apprentice
You a flash in the pan, was cooking in the past you were king
I’m watching uncle Ben’ give us a half-cooked dinner again
But in the future I’ma fry little bicentennial man
You come to my city you better be Yosemite ham with the flow delivery don’t give me this choke in the middle and disappoint your whole division b
You let Head Ice fuck your sister for a fitted and merch?
Was thinking ‘Wolf love’ but all he got was a medium shirt
But if you wanted a big T, you got one, no gun sounds just a silent movie as the chaplain moves to the altar
Hallelujah choir music and black-suited attire
Scramble booked me to write the book of Matthew for dead messiahs
So it’s nothing to go multisyllabic with Galifianakis
Harness a minor Tyson jab leave this baby flat on his abdomen
This your comparison? An alpha to a lioness?
We can spar and see which Spartan survives the Leonidas kick
Fake king of the north, Stannis Baratheon
I make tapes that shit on your songs, stand in the pantheon
So Canada’s Alex Buchanan can’t hold a lamp to Aladdin
That’s like, Hannah Montana tryna dance with a [?]
It’s adios, you get mollywhopped with no boxing glove
Send a body off to Organik boxed like a puppy dog
This a homi, Gadaffi vers’ the U.S. Army and France
They’ll say you got me that’s probably how the news is covered on Fox
‘Cause we some Africans, and you motherfuckers don’t count us in
Until Hakeem Olajuwon win ’em a championship
So fuck you I’m clutch too, fadeaway beat the shot clock
And turn big Ben’ to a Flavor Flav stopwatch

[Verse 1: Bender]
I mean, they said you big out here
Tumi you’re looking ready to die believe me
I’m thinking your diet’s leading to diabetes dine this evening and die while eating
They said I’d be a piece of cake?
Well they were using me as bait
He got Frito-Lay, deep ingrained in his DNA
So when he leaves this plane and his spirit fades, all we’ll see remain where his feet were placed is a pile of crumbs and a motherfucking greasy Cheeto stain
I will beat this lame out his muumuu
Make my day, I don’t care if we’re surrounded by your country like Lesotho
I’m cuckoo, fuck a beat, you gon’ break today
I spin him on his head, turn your Zulu king to Crazy Legs
Shouts to Gin-I, appreciate to death you involved me
But I said I wouldn’t write nothing direct when you called me
So I’m guessing for Tumi now, it’s gotta be extra insulting how I’m beating his ass with nothing but irrelevant multis
Get his, clock tuned if I hop to ’em, so it’s looking like Tum’s, stoned
Put Tum’ under a tombstone if I don’t like Tum’s, tone
You tryna battle for underground cred now? I hope that they like it
Your style’s tonic water, without Gin, no one would buy it
Gut him so fast he gon’ bleed violet
See what I mean Tumi? Been eating my greens, try it
Yeah I’m a fat fuck too, been eating a mean diet
I just ate the last king of Scotland, got Idi Amin’s diet
My brain deep as a lake T if you ain’t breathing through porpoise gills head for the hills to a safe peak I just ain’t feeling this corn dog
They gave T a recording deal, but if son makes green then it’s chlorophyll
I was born to kill on a beat or any stage he has performed on
Space creature, my form was built with these face features they forged from steel fuck paying me, with a quarter mill’ I would lace T, for a quart of milk
‘Cause lately it’s insane see, I been daydreaming these horror films with the blade leaving his organs spilled on the same street he was born on
Let’s go for a car ride
Game of golf, play a hard nine
I’ll even let you win, don’t want us both under a par, tied
That’s a flu, easy now, just tryna clown this candy rapper
So shouts to anybody in the crowd that doesn’t stab me after
I’m sick of commercial rappers thinking they could elevate our scene
I’m putting my foot down like Ryan Gosling in Drive in the elevator scene

[Verse 2: Tumi]
You sneaking race jokes in now? ‘A par, tied,’ that was a reach
But I’m guessing it ain’t the first time you had to spit your material to fit, anyway
Dave, this is not Illmac, I can’t accept this
You sold me a legend, but I ain’t listening when they telling me he’s not that fresh kid
So what I build, material to your death, it’s just as best as, the next kid
Next lit, you felt chills when you see your bloodline get streamed like Netflix
But let’s chill, see I measure my effort by the size of the contender
But with Bender it’s opposite sides, he fire when it’s thinner
For instance, that Syd Vicious body, yeah you put him in a bag, you annihilated Sydney
But that’s why you remind me of Luther Van’, flaming when he skinny
See when Bender slender, he John Preston with a temper
He can make a Christian bail if he sense offenders
But when Bender swell up, he lacks temperament and forgets stuff
If you betting on Bender, it better be David Beckham
We want that slender Bender, the 24/7 killer tournament ender
Not this bloated body that’s all filler
They mostly checking for dope, Betty Ford center
I Freddie Foxxx hit him, make a name off, swollen fingers
Machete go swinging, take the weight off, Jonah Hill him
I bet he no Nicholas, the face off of the caged gorilla
We want that old Bender, the raw type, multis, all schemes
Don’t send us this docile Maltese dog breed
See Ben’ then, was a monster to watch, Ben 10
But Ben’ since, always bombs when you watch, Semtex
For instance, what happened at the Golden Gate Bridge Ben’?
Attempted suicide until Pete caught the body like Spidey sling webs
And in the next battle you died, no? I guess Pete couldn’t save uncle Ben’ then
But the peckerwood set up good, even got a little left hook
But we keep thinking ‘If only he wasn’t so fucking forgetful’
Like I try watch your recent rap fights for research
But your amnesia got me wishing the WiFi was cheaper
Like Jeez Ben’, you choke worse than Hitler on cyanide wit’ his main broad
Shit if I couldn’t remember writtens, I’d freestyle and get eight off
But if you one of the dopest pens, I see a chicken coop
If you following Eminem, I don’t see living proof
I see a synonym for Eric Wright Jr., that’s a easy two

[Verse 2: Bender]
I say ante up like a boob job, I twist your fat frame to a pretzel
My rap tapes are essential
Your fan base must be simple, you can’t hang on this level
This man’s face on a Grendel with hands made out of metal
And a mask made to resemble a Tanzanian rebel slash Tasmanian devil with a fat chain and a bezel
I pay off a few soldiers, quick to drop this imposter
Hear that click before you speak, and we ain’t talking Xhosa
And I’m sure they’d be happy, to drop his ass in the desert
But pop a cap in his chest first like Papa Action and Chester
And your main squeeze been feeling me, I don’t care if she’s married
Leave something hot in that African bird’s eye, that’s peri peri
Shouts to Nandos
I send him right to the pearly gates
If he ever fired a .38 it was lighting his birthday cake
I said go blow out those candles, my one-liners are gunfire
Honestly, I had expected more from this asshole
I hope Comedy Central, gets a load of this battle
Trevor Noah gets cancelled and they send him home on a flatboat
Y’all need to pull yourselves together like a circle jerk if you think I’d take this L
I studied Joseph Conrad’s early work
I got a heart of darkness, more worshippers than Colonel Kurtz so he’s nervous as a German murderer, on trial at Nuremberg
You a part-time preacher, I’m a large white Jesus walking starved hyenas on some barbed wire leashes
My archive’s deep, you want this bar fight genius?
Get a cut with a fat lip like a Pharcyde remix
This shit is hot, I’m Ridley Scott, are you not entertained sucker?
Gladiator, I would slay anyone that you trained under
Alien brain I’m down your girl’s throat, I’m a facehugger
Twin machetes to your legs turn Tumi to Blade Runner
Something ’bout this match don’t add up
You can’t fucking hang, this is Numbers Gang against the math club

[Verse 3: Tumi]
Public service announcement: fuck Woolworths and fuck Pharrell Williams
Israel is an apartheid state that kills children
I was in the field with these kids giving out water and food
And I had to go back home to write poems for you
So shoutout to every student marching on every campus in this country
And on that note, let’s go bear hunting
I was in Canada selling out tours when you were still classed as nerd
Me, K9 and some Africans hit half the skirts
We bagged crackers, Ritz, snacks, hors d’oeuvres
Had these Montreal faggots like ‘Hashtag Bring Back Our Girls’
See we can throw hands like Sierra Leone
My iron fists rip metal like Marion Jones
Daddy is home, I beat Ness, I’m thinking I can handle his clone
You said you’d put chrome to your dome like a Zach Morris phone?
Before I condone you and Charron packing ratchets, I’ll go stone Ariel Sharon in the Gaza Strip
That’s the problem with this rap shit
Nobody mean what they say, nobody say what they mean
Meek Mill versus Drake shoulda just stayed as a meme
It’s all entertainment, some Cirque du Soleil shit
So you can rap fast juggle the mic behind your back spit flame shit
Contort your thoughts into a awesome name-flip
But if the tracks you’re making ain’t a hundred, fuck you saying?
I mean I really don’t get it, it’s like the black American experience is your default setting
And I understand poetic license, but how you gain cred off someone else sacrifices?
And I ain’t tryna make this no black and white thing
But it feels like all our negatives developed your patterns
And that’s the problem with this rap shit
Nobody mean what they say, nobody say what they mean
You should be watching Cassper vers’ AKA up here, not me
But you better have brainiac writtens witty as couscous b
Or get Belushi’d in a vein, or how Jeff did Bruce B
See what Dave paying, shit I can’t afford school fees
I’m like, pay me what you cover per head, that’s a coo’ fee
More chicken, make him cover the bread, that’s a two-piece
Shit, I’ll battle Raptor instead, ’cause he’s losing

[Verse 3: Bender]
Where I’m from, I bet you think we’re all fucking lazy
Party all day, never had a job underpay me
Popping champagne, sitting in the hot tub, it’s wavy
Coke falling from the sky, The Gods Must Be Crazy
And where I’m from, it’s true I rarely seen the glare from the chrome but anywhere that I roam I’m feeling like the chairman is home
Turn a chair to a throne a god on a chariot flown through the air that I own, Osiris to the pharaohs below
I keep a cool air like the coastal climate, it’s military control how I adhere to a code of silence after swearing an oath
But I’m here just to show your highness who’s the heir to the throne if he dare to provoke the lion here to tear out his throat
You tryna stare at my soul that’s fine but, I got my man in a van somewhere down the road with hardware that’s controlled and an aerial drone a mile up
Carrying a load, lined up
Staring down the barrel and scope prepared for when your parents get home
This area prone to violence, Sierra Leone been dying
Muslim Arabs to sub-Saharans bearing a terrible toll
‘Cause from Paris to Rome they line up for their share of your gold and diamonds while burying bones in silence with every karat that’s sold
Tariffs imposed are there to control the prices but the black market’s moving down a perilous road
Ask mercy from the west, but America won’t provide it for the rarest of stones they feed you to the sparrows and crows
I’m aware that you know the science, and can share this with folks
And use your music as a platform if you care to expose what’s really going on, and you should be embarrassed you don’t
Facing the mirror looking like you just got scared by a ghost
See I heard a couple songs, you may be an emcee but your radio-friendly content’s basically empty
This country’s beautiful, the culture runs deep
But your safe Americanized pop is pulp for the sheep
And maybe it’s me, but your music feels emo
You got the image down, your message seems weak though
With T’s ego, you’d think he’s going beast mode tryna defeat evil and free his people like Steve Biko
So now I’m feeling like the Titanic
Once I hit the ‘Burg you treading water with the sharks without a life jacket
It’s ’bout time someone checked your ass, prostate cancer
You dog-faced bastard, thought you had this in the bank, well I’m Andre Stander

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