Th3 Saga vs. Emerson Kennedy [Lyrics]

[Round 1: Emerson Kennedy]

I was gon’ show you science to see the way…and drop some facts on you
What’s the use of tryin’ if DNA…already turned his back on you?
Let’s take religion and chains off, and that division of fame gone
Fuck I sound like wit’ round types on his decision to chase God?
They call me “atheist” ‘cause my basics is attaining wisdom to take charge
It’s hard to win an argument with brainiacs…
It’s impossible to win ‘em with brainwash
So let’s keep it business and straightforward, and I won’t blast on church
If you don’t quote some past song’s verse to tell me that my path don’t work
Your palms stayed clean when you was prayin’
I had to put my hands on dirt
My past was airplane crash
In order to take care of those around me, I had to put the mask on first
I know yo’ past squad heard somethin’ awful from him
Thought you was the boss or somethin’, ‘til they cut the losses from him
Shine stabbed you in the back, and you ain’t want to squab’ or nothin’?
You spend your life doin’ this…(*makes the Sign of the Cross on his chest*)…and ain’t know when the double-cross is comin’?
I ain’t brought no gun shit!
I’mma fuck him up!
Four Horsemen’s another squad to run in, buncha sucka porch niggas
These couple fuckin’ redundants all stuck in the four scriptures
Well, tonight, I change history, the fuckin’ Force hit ya
‘Cause you will see (USC) this Trojan land, but I’m the one that snuck the Horse nigga!
You really think those brothers ride?
If Saga was to die, you’d really think those brothers ride?
You should’ve learned from the Last Supper
Soon as the tables turn, no one’s left on the other side
What if you was to die? They phonin’ up on ya moms?
The niggas I hold down in real life, same niggas that’s gon’ hold me up when I’m gone
You just a clown in front a carousel
Career’s a circus, it’s so blatant
How else we supposed to take him serious if niggas behind him keep rotatin’?
An Uncle Tom, he’s been anoin-
-ted by this colony you’ve joined
I’m Laker-minded: I say a Tom is (Isaiah Thomas) too small to be the point
Catch up!
We been stressed on the West, ‘cause when it’s hot, the kids lose it
Smack, Summer Madness on this side is just tryin’ to live through it
I’m serious, and he fake as shit to make it rich
Clique-hop in here, they’ll bake your shit
Niggas dyin’ over Nintendos: I dare him to make a switch
L.A., what’s up!? Let’s go!
Relationships, you ain’t been frank (Ben Frank)
So how you figure to fight
If you shocked how key it is to send yo’ nigga a kite?
How you keep religion in sight when you can’t trust yo’ self
And expect to light up the night if you don’t know how to conduct yo’ self?
Horseman, trust yo’ self
I mean, look what you found
Too much stress after success, he ain’t even good for two rounds
You was the man on top…you bottom Horse of the crew now
So they sent our (centaur) best to be putting you down!
Tell Smack I need the crown
They can all get dealt
Saga get dragged to Tijuana before the wall gets built
I know that’s sorta, like, late, and I shouldn’t glorify hate
But if you break that wall bar down, it was borderline great!
Nigga, war is my fate!
I don’t find God and brag on it
Or take a Christian girl’s hand and then ask her dad on it
And get nervous before the wedding, ‘cause how much we planned on it
Where I’m from, cold feet means there’s probably a tag on it
I know you fast with your family, but I give a different feel
I move fast to make sure my family never skip a meal
Let’s do it…
I am Jordan and Pippen, when the form is hittin’
He falls back, holdin’ his nose: now he a born-again Christian!
I’m fire!
L.A., what’s up? L.A., what’s up!? What’s up!?
Fuck it, I’mma remix it!
I said, I am Jordan and Pippen, Jordan-Jordan and Pippen
When the form is rippin’, when the form is rippin’
He fall back, holdin’ his nose-
He fall back, holdin’ his nose-
He fall back, holdin’ his nose: now he a born-again Christian!
Round 1!

[Round 1: Th3 Saga]

I look up to God like, “All these voices in my head make it harder to pray
And I hear the fans sayin’ I’m just another martyr to slay”
He responded like, “Wait, if they sendin’ shots, it’s to target the faith
You got the heart of a great, and your name’s prophetic on how this gon’ fall into place”
So I sat back, got refocused, with lines so crazy to show this ain’t the type of Saga to play
Plus, the West Coast finally got what they needed…Lebron in L.A.
Now that I’m here, I came wit’ lines to give praise to the true Savior
I’m talkin’ 2K, away team at the line: room-shakers
Devon Carter back on UFF: you in huge danger (Danja)
‘Cause the pen fire, but you gettin’ drug with delivery: induced labor!
So get wild!
‘Cause you facing one from New York who don’t mind trying to get foul
I’m sick, pal
Punches back-to-back in L.A.: I’m Chris Childs!
He even caught a right (write) from a distance like pen pals
It ends now!
‘Cause you been callin’ me out since you got here
Like y’all so cocky, and your bars so Godly
Bro, what I’m saying is (Saiyan) greater, dawg: my thoughts so Broly
Y’all watch Martin? (Yup!)
Y’all remember Romey Rome at the Players’ Ball?
Well, that’s what caused yo’ homi’
‘Cause you called me out and got whipped on stage
Like, “What’s happenin’? You can’t call nobody!?”
Now we gon’ turn up
See, wit’ lines like that, it’s easy to get them to react to lines
And that’s cool, but the main objective is to engage the crowd and attract the mind
Give y’all somethin’ to go home wit’ to show my power range is (Power Rangers) past the rhymes
So if I black and beast in a round, it’s exactly for the mass to dawn (Mastodon)
Don’t act tough wit’ us, B (USB)
That route’ll (router) lead to cords imported to your body to see if your reaction’s fine
And once they give E the (ether) cables, extended connection’s how I adapt the (adapter) line!
Your raps divine?
As far as your pen skills, they say you actually revered
But if they came to see a Christian wig on stage, then you ain’t actin’ with Madea
But it makes sense why you want me out the way
I paved the lane for you to actually appear
So y’all think I’m doomed?
Nah, it’s Kim-Jong Un: I control half of your career (Korea)!
Ever since you got on SMACK, you been followin’ my blueprints
But aye, dawg, I ain’t the one you need to convince
Vers’ Boom and Daylyt, you out here talkin’ how them heaters will lift
Rollin’ deep and intense
Light up his city, actin’ Super bold (Bowl) with projection, like JT wit’ the Prince
All of a sudden, you hit the PGs and just switched
Tryna replace a star player, but I made you take that seat on the bench
Replace your gun bars wit’ a positive message to try to preach at events
Aye, I don’t mean to put money down, but don’t y’all think E kinda me (economy) in a sense?
Ever since your last battle, I knew I had to fly to L.A. to address you for frontin’
After them three Dot rounds, you should’ve known the message was comin’
I have to beseech you, ‘cause your rounds for B. Dot? Lame
We not playin’
Every battle, I show my heart so y’all can see my pain
So when I die, there’ll be a few things they say about me when they speak my name
For The Culture, I brung Jesus wit’ the crossover: He Got Game!
Oh, you ain’t like that line? Well, that’s cool
Let me refine it, then
Denzel steppin’ outta bounds how I jot it, then
That only means the Father throws me rounds from behind the pen
Criticize, but never walked in my shoes?
That’s how you plot to win?
Well, in the end (Indian), if you don’t got a perfect soul (sole), then why mock a sin (moccasin)?
I’m tryna drop knowledge to tap into that purpose you got locked within
But some gems stay over heads: this is not The Sims
So any disrespect for the Father? Please stop!
Make you apologize for that disrespect: T-Top!
After a few shrugs, he Dude Love, I made his knees knock
One verse will send him to God: I’ll get E knocked (Enoch)!
So go ahead with them God angles to try me for a homi’
First round, I just caught another body for the Body
Let’s go

[Round 2: Emerson Kennedy]
Forgive my online anonymity!
But the Internet just wasn’t meant for me
Only time I wanna share links is if the judge offer my nigga a Century
(See, y’all gotta catch up, man…)
See, I don’t really post for boredom
The coast say, “Post your battles”, and the coast will forward them
But I’m done wit’ those dead bodies, so…why would I post more of them (post-mortem)?
Saga’s social exposed the whore in him
Oh, how sadly you chase it
Every status update, it shows how badly you crave it
All that attention for a mention, so you can tally your favorites
The “Christian battler” taglines
“By the way, add me to playlists”
What good is all those followers, if you can’t get outta Cali unfaded?
I was taught if I got a new follower, you’d tuck in the alley and waited
And that’s the difference in our class, and what impedes your graduation
I’m never in one place for more than an hour
I don’t need (knee’d) the validation
Saga became a whore for affirmation by using the Lord card
You didn’t beat pornography, nigga – you turned to the porn star!
Boy, I got four or five friends, that if it’s war, they dive in
And we ain’t in chat groups like Saga to try to glorify wins
You can’t embrace truth on Facebook groups
On message boards, he chimes in
Nigga, Inglewood, California’s the only Forum I’m in!
Real shit!
If it’s war, let’s sign in, but this ain’t what you used to
My lineage is too truthful to find a fuck nigga to lose to
I’m raised by my sister and my mother, and that’s who I grew through
Doctors, activists…I come from Queens more so than you do!
Real shit!
That East Coast bias is fool’s news
But y’all gon’ have the West tooken?
How y’all gon’ take over Cali when you let white women take over Brooklyn?
Look how I got Th3 Saga lookin’!
We’ve grown tired of the act
That fire that once inspired is now expired and holds you back
You stole Prep’s style that you admired
So DNA wouldn’t hire young’un back
Should’ve figured stealin’ some Preppy shit would get you fired from the Gap!
Real shit! That’s fire!
I caught a liar in his track, using religion to steer fate
Yeezus album: nobody listened, Saga, and this is a clear case
That you ain’t nowhere near great
I mean, you was the fave
Then Glueazy’s stock rose somehow, and you would degrade
You let Smack back a white boy, while he put you in the grave
I guess you had to put Horse down to make sure Glu’ (glue) would be made!
You just Iverson wit’ the braids, stuck on the fuckin’ shelf
Spent too much time on the…cross, and didn’t practice nothin’ else!
Stop PLAYIN’ wit’ me!
You spent too much time on the cross and didn’t practice nothin’ else!
The eulogy you knew it’d be is the difference between you and me
‘Cause you relate everything to a cross
But I study everything to a T!
You remember learnin’ the breaststroke as a kid?
Were you balancing your best?
Well, life is cyclical: you gon’ leave this one with paddles on your chest!
And that is average, not my best
But I don’t got a lot to fear
How y’all gon’ say this debatable, if even his doctor’s yellin’, “Clear!”
Think he can fuck with ME!?
Let’s go, L.A.!
I could punch all fuckin’ year, but that’s not a symbol of genius
I’d rather take the rest of the round to show y’all the difference between us
I only looked up to street niggas, hat tucked wit’ the brim low
So while he was learnin’ that Ali bounce, nigga, I was studyin’ Kimbo
And there was no rope-a-dope, just go-for-broke
The only hope, was coke and dope
La Cosa Nostra, blow your nose
No Popes, it’s Locs, on golden spokes
Where folks is taught to even tote before they hold remotes
And niggas slept by my hand: he caught the Holy Ghost!
Let’s go! I’mma fuck him up! I’mma fuck him up!

[Round 2: Th3 Saga]
I said, I’m from New York, watch how you talk
‘Cause either way, you addressin’ (a dress and) the Apple like Caitlyn Jenner throat
When it comes to battles, I feel like I’m the greatest, as far as written quotes
But Mom told me, “Never babble on (Babylon) the stats you (statue) praise…
Just step on stage, and provide that inner hope.”
‘Cause God’s wit’ him, they’ll see through the fire round he brew (Hebrew)
Boy, I been a GOAT
See, I could rap like that, not because I’m cocky
But there’s life and death in the power of the tongue
And I believe every word on them thin pages
But before the Lord, it was ‘04 at the Palace: I been flagrant
Heart racin’, conviction hit my first time clutchin’ the Glock
But my cousin told me, “Chill. It’s just for protection if you get stuck wit’ the opps
Just make sure they all still if you dumpin’ the shots!”
Fake Gordon Gartrell: I kept it tucked in the sock
Them chrome TECs left all these mothers up in my zone stressed
I was 18, wildin’ on the Ave: that’s a NOME Chess
Was I wrong? Yes
But learned if you lackin’, it cause your own death
So back then, we had to black on sight (site) – word to Sconex
My bros left, some went to jail, some went home way sooner
God gave me a different route so I don’t clone they future
I’m set apart, the oddball in my clique that won’t spray Rugers
The only one to act like my Father: I’m O’shea Jr.!
But you think I came with B. Dot rounds so you could rebuttal Glocks?
Brother, stop
I came through with a whole ‘nother plot
This ain’t no “if I wasn’t a Christian rapper, then the snub’ll pop”
So act wise, before you get baptized – ‘til the bubbles stop!
Why shoot a gun when, my whole life, I had to fight through the issue!?
Might lose your life when I hit you!
The left weak, but anyone who ran the fair’ll see (Pharisee) this right just (righteous) official
Grab at his neck, his collarbone could be easily broke
Then grab with the left: I learned never be unequally yoked!
(If you know, you know!)
Deceit in your quotes
That’s why I can never believe when you blam a shell
But I blame The Poet for this one
Off that KG assist, it’s gon’ get ugly, God (guard): Sam Cassell!
Yo, Danny Myers!
Aye, Danny Myers…you believe in a Parallel Universe?
You believe in a Parallel Universe? (I do)
Well, I do, too, man, the streets crazy
Around the same time I was facin’ Shotgun…
(*chk-chk*) My lil’ homie got G-Baby’d!
(*to Danny*) You gon’ get yours
Grace is what I need daily
‘Cause little kids get slumped on the block, gettin’ snuffed by the cops
You ain’t gon’ be mad at me if I start dumpin’ these shots…
Grace is what I need daily
‘Cause little kids bleed where I’m from
Wild anger, cops’ anger gettin’ released on the young
And you worried about me trying to preach to the slums?
Every soul devoured, it’s solar power: they in need of the Son (Sun)!
So I’m eager to give ‘em Jesus ‘cause the streets left ‘em numb!
Before they reach out for help, these lil’ homies tryna reach for a gun!
Try to reach where I’m from
Any disrespect? You’ll bleed from the gums!
RRRAH! Ejerique! Boca!
Sound like I’m speaking in tongues!
You know what’s next for you, bro? Hospital beds wit’ the robes on
Lessen the hope, your family prayin’, singin’ slow songs
Death gettin’ close, the body present, but the soul gone
Emerson quotes: your family screamin’, “Nigga, hold on!
Just know, everything I’ve been through, it would take forever to explain it
But just know if the Father wasn’t wit’ me, then the Devil would’ve changed it
Gun in my face, but it jammed on him when the felon tried to blaze it
If the Larkin clapped…Marvin Sapp: I Never Would Have Made It!
So go ahead wit’ them out-of-context Bible bars you addressing to me
‘Cause to be on stage and see lives change is still a blessing to see
The underdog and the voice for the hopeless I am destined to be
Big Daddy, ‘cause what I spit still connect to the streets!
So go ahead with them God angles to try me for a homi’
Second round, I just caught another body for the Body
Let’s go

[Round 3: Emerson Kennedy]
Y’all caught all those punch-fests, right? All those punches he did?
Saga…you already proved that I’m a God, but they wanna hear it be truthful
‘Cause I got you all the way here from the other side…
And you said only the Spirit could move you!
You not seein’ me today
Hard to believe the things he say
How he used to be a criminal, but a criminal would never leave the DN-
I studied footage, I see your way
You wear two faces for approval
God’s guidance and mild violence just enough for fans not to boo you
But he don’t threaten to shoot folk, ‘cause killing’s religious accountability
So this Reverend’s loophole, like that last round, is threaten the fists for the credibility
Oh, how well you’ve adapted
You give them punch threats, and they give you classics
Well, since we in the City of Angels, let’s make this one interactive
How many of y’all go to church?
(*A good amount of people raise their hands*)
Well, where my church-goers? Question for y’all up in here:
Do you want the Reverend to tell you God’s honest truth, or the Reverend to tell you shit he thinks y’all wanna hear?
See, you and Loso was rewarding us
But now all those punch threats get to boring us
And if you kids wanna learn how to chew food, at some point, you gotta put down that formula
A man could still die if he hits the ground, right?
But I guess you don’t box that cold
And all your debatable rounds prove you never had a knockout blow!
Is this Heaven you suggested worth the revenue invested?
‘Cause you was fire your first six battles, ‘til Suge led him to the exit
And we knew he was a man of God, ‘cause on the seventh, he was rested
He don’t talk lettin’ the lead spit
I respect a weapon to end shit
I’ll never trust Second Commandment over the Second Amendment!
Is it the churches who matters, or the violent wording you capture?
Isn’t it double-major bad to be serving two Masters?
Those prayer hands have a fair stance?
If it’s a brawl, cuz hesitated
Having hands folded together is the opposite of having ‘em balled up separated
Your lying’s been intercepted, ‘cause you’re trying to be respected
Applying to college the only time I was dying to be accepted
Real shit, ‘cause the lives off campus got popped and died often
So I made it to those Halls to stop my coffin (coughin’)
Hold on…
You don’t manuever in that space
You try to infuse your inner Ma$e
Don’t try that, it’s a dye pack: soon as he grabbed this bag, it blew up in his face
Boy, you thought this was a blessing?
Saga, this a misdirection
The words you carry, Virgin Mary: they all derive from misconceptions
I used to be just like you
But I bought Prada, while he was buyin’ Bibles
See how we both similar slaves to false European idols?
Now “Martin” is my title, but I think that I came wrong
‘Cause I meant Martin Luther King in a time where cops tryna turn into Trayvon
Fuck that List that my name’s on!
It’s all fine for beginners
But why do I fear Saga’s List, when…mine resembles Schindler’s?
A gas chamber of cold lines, send ya fuckin’ soul flyin’
I knew by how he spelled his name he had E backwards the whole time!
Congrats on your own mom – you know, survivin’ for the fam’
But out West, it isn’t melanoma when niggas dyin’ over tan!
Lemme talk! He don’t talk like that!
I’m cloudy, help me
Is your religion that religion where you walk into a space
Sit down and talk through the holes, and the Father gives you fate?
You know, “Sorry I have sinned…” and then you cross to your mista-?
Oh, that’s Catholics
Well, you’ve been converted, ‘cause right now, you talkin’ to a great (grate)!
I am barkin’ on your face!
Saga, what could you spit to me?
Bodies buried is all this cat’ll comb (catacomb) through my history
Real shit!
See, overseas, they love you, ‘cause he sold them dreams of struggle
But This is America, so if I got to shoot shit, we know it’s these would buckle!
Real shit!
You talk old but rap young, ‘cause he hasn’t earned mileage
A regular Donald-ass nigga: soon as he raps, he turns Childish
Boy, I am I.T.! And your crew don’t work the Man shift
How we in the same Spectrum if you can’t dial up someone to make a band with (bandwidth)?
You came here alone, no one from the set representin’
On the West, if you have problems with Chrome, you better test your connection!
Smack! Smack! SMAAAACK! This is SMACK! This is SMACK!
Smack, I got a question…where the FUCK is Head I.C.E!?
My nigga, where are you, Wolf!?
I know you lovin’ life at KOTD ‘cause of the shit you get
But that belt you been wearin’ just looks like some shit they could whip you with!
Real shit!
Aye, I.C.E, when you done shuckin’ and jivin’, and dancin’ for them crackers
And you remember you’se a nigga, I’ll be waitin’ right where Smack is!
Real shit! Real shit!

[Round 3: Th3 Saga]
Y’all can hear me?
In a world that believes in science, Big Bang, and dark matter
We have yet to peep the signs
Cops let somethin’ big bang, they don’t believe anybody that’s dark matter
What’s your heart after?
I let you talk for three rounds just to hook this bait
Bobby Boucher mom: I’m finna cook this snake
Go ahead and mention the Transatlantic slave trade, and anything in regards to that to prove there’s validity in your argument
But I beg your pardon, I’m not somebody you could start it wit’
Go ahead and bring up the slave trade, and even how the Bible says, “Obey your Master” to verify nonsense
But bringin’ that up, and not understandin’ where it truly came from
You taking it out of context
Because if you think of slavery how our ancestors did it, then it was way off
But indentured servitude only meant that they were slaves for a debt ‘til it was paid off
But that’s how you playin’ it? Take verses from the Bible and start replacin’ it?
Distort verses for the sake of a win? Expose the fake in it?
Well, I’m glad to say He hung on that cross, and rose three days from it
‘Cause my Savior didn’t die for religion – He chose relationships
So that conversation could never be certain-
Y’all don’t gotta react
That conversation could never be certain
Don’t ever dispute Heavenly verses!
Christ only offered Salvation!
real man-made book says when you die, you get 70 virgins
Watch how the clarity surface
I serve a God who saw the principles of the world and demand changes
Ancient scriptures painted pictures of what that Man sayin’!
“Fah nah sah, mah nah kah mah-”
Stand patient
That only means based off them old read (O-Red) verses, them joints got different Translations
But stop sayin’ you a God!
Emerson…stop sayin’ you a God
All these thoughts about bein’ Him must’ve got to yo’ head
Now it’s Jesus bein’ tempted: you’ll get rocked for the bread!
Stop sayin’ you a God!
But since you wanna be Him in such an oddly essence
One hook, and it’s all over: now you’re omnipresent
Stop sayin’ you a God!
Reverence for Him? Dawg, you know I’m demanding
Or the right make him lean, knot (not) on his own understanding!
Stop sayin’ you a God!
I demand reverence here!
Whether New York, Cali, Richmond, I’ll make it very clear!
The moment y’all challenge God, it’s Watch Battle Live
Boy, you’ll get addressed everywhere!
So just know, you gon’ need a lot more to beat me than just flowin’ nice
‘Cause you could lose your heart (Hart) in the ring if you live that Owen life
You can’t stop me – only the Spirit can move me, like a poltergeist
Killed you in three rounds, but I’m just prayin’ that your soul is right

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