Hitman Holla vs. Tay Roc [Lyrics]

[Round 1: Hitman Holla]
Summer Madness comin’
Calicoe stop runnin’
Conceited, how you 4’5″ and still duckin’?
John John talkin’ shit, he gon’ make me steal somethin’
Ask Smack, soon as niggas holla “Hitman” I come and kill somethin’
This the nigga I’ve been hidin’ from?
I mean that’s what y’all was sayin’ and whatnot
Man, don’t let these niggas gas you
Around bad ass kids the only time I’ve ever ducked Roc(k)
What’s up Roc?
All this tellin’ niggas you been hot since I’ve been hot must stop
Eight years ago I was headlining Smack
Eight years ago you was battlin’ Shotgun Suge in front of a bus stop
I’ve had enough Roc
Yeah you got MVP when I left the team, that just make you rust Roc
You see I got on TV and got me some reads
I’ma KD type of clutch Roc
See you a motherfuckin’ puppet, I put that on my granny gravestone
Cause you was yellin’ “URL for life”, so this is the platform you stand on
So help me understand how the fuck you the face of the league that you ain’t even highest paid on?
I’m sick of y’all gassin’ this average ass career, this is where the joy stop
Nigga your first Summer Madness call just happened to be the one I decided to boycott
I mean, everything you doin’, I already did, I could’ve been done and finished
Ask Smack, what is the first battle you ever dropped on a holiday No pun intended
Tay Roc did used to own this buildin’, but now he gotta give it back
I mean at least you know
When you own somethin’ and got to give it back, I mean that is a lease, you know
Gun Bar King, boy in real life I was poppin’ the chrome
You ran off with my style, this nigga Roc is a clone
Why you think when he got hot I was gone?
It made since, I’m the battle king so you know they gotta throw Roc(k) at the throne
I mean we can ask Brizz, cause he next, he ain’t nothin’ but a lil’ op
This could be a [?] trip to the Carolinas, I’m just passin’ through Little Roc(k)
Ayo Trez, I’m disappointed, you joined them to get a lil’ hot?
My nigga, ain’t ya name “Chef”? You supposed to wanna cook Roc(k)
They wanna triple team a nigga, this look bad Roc
It’s three on one, I’m still shootin’ I take bad shots
I’ll knock Tay out, then pull a K out
And light the whole Cave up like I’m tryin’ to find my way out
So the rest of the Cave better mind they business or get their noodle cracked
I’ll put right up on Ave without Google Maps
God fam’, watch yo’ mouth, don’t let it slide fam’
Your last tape, I give One Mic, he a Nas fan
Fuck a drive-by, I jumped outta that Dodge Ram
The nine miss but the Drake hit, that was God’s Plan
I done watched niggas bully you on stage, but now you tough
My nigga calm it down
The way Calicoe was pushin’ Roc around, I know he had to make his father proud
Man, I’ll knock yo’ ass off stage, you’ll get your skull and yo’ shit cracked
I’ll have him somewhere in the crowd, asleep off the punch like, “C’mon y’all ain’t get that?”
But aye, even if they sleepin’ then fuck it, get ya snooze on
Binocular vision on the scope, I get my zoom on
They call me Undertaker, get my wrestlin’ move on
Tombstone lock, then graffiti the Roc(k) over his tombstone
Dot Mobb, Cave Gang, Gun Titles, y’all don’t know what that mean yet?
Y’all done put Lebron vs Kobe
Nah, nah, that bar ain’t about who y’all think better, or him not havin’ enough rings yet
But more because I done seen your name on a few rosters, I ain’t traded on my team yet
See, when I’m on this stage, I just give you a better feel
I’m still mad for Mike Brown, tell Iron he better chill
You skatin’ on thin ice, quit thinkin’ that you good
This remind me of the 90’s, they treat me like I’m Suge
It’s just me vs you, I ain’t trippin’ off ya hood
But if ya brother jump in

[Showout]
Man I wish that nigga would!

[Round 1: Tay Roc]
Summer Madness comin’
Calicoe stop runnin’
Conceited, how you 4’5″ and still duckin’?
John John talkin’ shit, he gon’ make me steal somethin’
Smack hollered at Hitman, I’m tryin’ to kill somethin’
My last battle I got booed, y’all never thought it could happen
Goodz knew I was a problem, so he thought he’d distract ’em and talk while I’m rappin’
But it’s cool, the next nigga that try to throw niggas off while I’m rappin’
They gettin’ rocked on stage, I’ma throw niggas off while I’m rappin’
Aye, once they get that contract and sign right on the line
They know they puttin’ they life on the line, that’s why they put they life in them lines
Smack talkin’ hot on my phone like he want me to get life on my line
He told me strangle you, literally have yo’ life on the line
Now everybody like, “Holla back” I’ve been waitin’ on a response
I’m glad you hollered back
We all know Showout got Holla back
*click click* Now that’s gon’ hit yo’ chest and Showout through Holla back
I’ve gotta snap
Aye, what Roc got bottled in, ’bout to get out again
They told me “Get him”, I got him then
It’s not a problem then
The switchblade, chop inside of him, lose lots of oxygen
The chopper, mutterin’, BLOCKA BLOCKA leave Holla hollerin’
You all performance, that little remix shit y’all do, won’t work for me
If lil’ bro jump in tonight, he gon’ earn him three
They rush him to the hospital with urgency
Now the doc in there lookin’ like Hitman performin’; surgery
Picture this, two MAC 90’s, extended clips
Give ’em hits from the 90’s, like he tryin’ to listen to some different shit
We comin’ through, hittin’ shit
Hit or miss, but the way Hit hit the ground I don’t even think my hit’ll miss
Spanish shooter, that’s my amigo
He don’t speak English, I pay him for bodies, he wherever the green go (gringo)
Play wit’ me, he’ll let the heat go
You’ll talk to a bald head like, “Didn’t your mother tell you all about chemo?”
You know how I play, full contact
If you ain’t want me to talk about somebody you love, should’ve put that in ya contract
We beyond strapped
Don’t take it beyond rap
Cause a [?], I take it beyond that
You got a bald head, whatchu gon’ Mr. Clean your way outta this one?
Mask on, let’s see Holla win (Halloween) his way outta this one
I’ll pump the trunk, pull the gauge outta this one
Like, “Whatchu want? The Ricky? *click click* You can get the Lil’ Ray Ray outta this one.”
If Blood say that he double R, that fucked up the vibe wit’ me
Cause he really a Mercedes S-Class; 550
That’s gang shit, I don’t bang shit but a nine milli
This hammer came from a German town, but it’s not friendly
Don’t get shot silly, I’ll let ya peeps have it
Shotgun in his face, like you wanna rematch it
If I see static, he gon’ get a chopper in his mouth
He gon’ choke on a K like B-Magic on Street Status
It’s gon’ be tragic, you know the shit I’m on
Have his whole team in R.I.P. air brushed tees and iron ons
I brought the Proof, the nine (Denaun) is on
Fuck if he tellin’ the truth, lil’ bro gon’ be the nigga he lyin’ on
Light bars

[Round 2: Hitman Holla]
Ayo, he just dissed my mama chemo, that don’t make me nothin’
I can look in his face, he frontin’
But yo’ customized jersey reminded me, tell yo’ mother I can get somebody to kill her for $1,800
I seen that podcast, I knew that’s how you was gonna play it too
You niggas always quick to yell and don’t be sayin’ shit until it’s you the one that’s gettin’ somethin’ said to
I’m so happy they booked this in Vegas, there ain’t no reason to lie, I said it
Cause a nigga try me like I’m sweet, a gamble and I’m willin’ to die
I bet it
See I just play the cards that I was dealt, I just made myself important fast
See Tay Roc one of them stars that wouldn’t even be considered a star without his supportin’ cast
Dot Mobb, Cave Gang, Gun Titles, Zip- see I keep sayin’ it cause I hate snake things
Okay, let’s just say you do think he a champion
Well to our class he got fake rings
See Tay Roc will be Robert Horry, you ain’t been shit but a role player on some great teams
This ass whoopin’ he been beggin’ me
I don’t see how y’all can try to put a nigga like him ahead of me
Especially when his whole career is based off gettin’ kills, startin’ Charlie Clips legacy
You had to battle dude again and try to get back somethin’
Boy if I ain’t burnin’ somethin’ down, the only time I gotta rematch somethin’
Pay attention to the rhymes alarmed
You battled Charlie twice? Well I got another Clip for ya, the third times a charm
See I always stood and fought, ask around, I’ll stretch ya
Back down? You would never hear me runnin’, I’m the Tesla
New strap, got a kick back, I named it Hester
That’ll clear this stage quicker than security bein’ extra
You on the sideline, I’m in the field; Fletcher
One arm out that Trailblazer; Drexler
Tryin’ to cross me I handle like a professor
Double pump grip, I handle like the professor
This right to left combo will sock him in the middle
So when Roc(k) hit the floor with two hands it is not a double dribble
What are they sniffin’? They trippin’, I stay grippin’, K’s itchin’
They bullets will heat Roc(k), melt Roc, get Roc, I’ll shape shift him
They be like, “$30,000? C’mon Hitman.” These niggas stay bitchin’
That’s why Smack made me sign a non disclosure, I get paid different
Tsu, this ain’t a two on two, stay outta Tay’s business
Before forensics in the DMV searchin’ for the titles like the plates missin’
I was raised different
I pulled up with a few Piru’s go ‘head and try one
You so worried ’bout bein’ the Gun Bar King and barely makin’ enough money from Smack to go and buy one
Tay Roc, wit’ yo’ second half, you barely can buy Christmas lights
If I stood on my second half I’d be Tristan height
No witnesses, I kill every snitch in sight
I’m ridin’ around gritty, in the city, grippin’ the Smith & tight
Catch him in traffic, pull up and get to blowin’ at him like, “You gon’ make me miss the light.”
Through the windshield, the crime scene will be so mean
I’ll smoke Roc(k) through the glass; dope fiend
I say look, bein’ where I’m from, I fell in love with the crime rate
I wake up like I want more Pierre, the Stephan way
You not from Baltimore, slow it down, ain’t that what Con’ say?
You more like, on the white side, the Hassan way
You take him out the east coast he average, that ain’t beyond hate
You seen him in Texas? The nigga had the Jordan cryin’ face
He was so surprised he got booed in Houston he asked his homie if it was a blind date
I say I’m a different kind of warrior, please stay out of mine Tay
This ya squad? I get ya team gone like that, the Lebron way
And put my hands on any nigga that claim Roc, the Solange way
And yo’ bitch gon’ stand there and watch me do it, that’s Beyonce
Aye, he tried to approach me before the battle
He was callin’ my name like, “Yo!”
I was like, “Yo what?!”
He was like, “You is cool wit’ Surf, I’m cool wit’ Surf, I was just thinkin’ sooo…”
“So what?!”
New blade, fresh out the freezer, who hungry? I’m givin’ out cold cuts
I told Red, I’m on the block, big ass weapon, ain’t no tuckin’ that
I shoot it, it go BAOW! They duckin’ like “What the fuck was that?”
He told Hollow, “I got a couple gats. I’ma bust wit’ that
And some shit gon’ fly by like ‘What the fuck was that?'”
Original/impostor
Ain’t no tellin’ ’bout who’s who or what’s what
You dumb fuck
Since you stealin’ you get a motherfuckin’ uppercut
Then an uppercut, then an uppercut
He need Lebron mask, but his face swole so the straps won’t buckle up!

[Round 2: Tay Roc]
You said, “Alphabet. You gon’ get an L after K huh.”
That’s a shit line
Let me guess, you thought you would do me like you did Shine
Try to reach for this when I grip mine
Squeezin’ the .8, now y’all can see (C) in his face that’s a Crip sign
That nigga Nick Cannon got you ballin’, big time
That watch really 40K? *click* Now give up everything like you quit tryin’
Or get lynched, boy I got a sick mind
They just saw a clown hangin’ from the ‘net; Tekashi69
Aye, a nigga puttin’ they hands on me, I don’t play all that
A nigga touch me? A bullet is how I pay y’all back
The K all black, I hop out and spray all that
Extended clip, like a Hot Wheels race car track
And after the murder, cops gon’ be lookin’ in your direction
I clapped him, wiped the prints, left the hammer in your possession
Tone down your aggression
If shorty flexin’, razor blade, affectin’ his vocal cords like a recordin’ session
Fuck what shorty reppin’, I brought a weapon
Deuce deuce, the baby tucked in like a story tellin’
Banana clip stickin’ out the AK47
Hitman get the bald head that’s Agent 47
Aye, the knife hit him then the Magnum pop
Get stabbed then shot
Sparks fly from the hands, static shock
I grab a Glock, a pistol whip made this faggot drop
The hammer broke in my hands, that’s Hela from Thor: Ragnarok
I catch Hitman in traffic, skrrt, cut him off
He hop out like he wanna brawl
I hop out start dumpin’ off, he runnin’ off
Think Brett and Owen, don’t get son invovled
Cause shit gon’ hurt Hitman heart if his brother fall
Fuck a fight, I beat you with the back of a Shotty ’til I break ya neck
Show up to your funeral and I won’t pay respect
Come and take rep, we in Vegas, you want to place a bet
Scratch that, a brought the revolver, who wanna play Roulette?
Like a judge free the wave, we lettin’ MAC’s out
50 in the clip, 42 in his back: Jerry Stackhouse
I blackout, it’s like a dice game when the strap out
Y’all gon’ watch two die if I pull this crap out
I back out, you don’t smoke or drink, why would I slap box
I slide up wit’ the sticks like I’m ’bout to take a slapshot
To be safe I got to aim it up before the gat cock
Chopper like a slot machine it look like I hit the jackpot
Aye, I heard ya girl named Cinnamon
Is that your wife or what?
I’ll send ’em in with sticks for Cinnamon, I’m tryin’ to spice shit up
Tell her, “Get ghost”, if I get close, Cinnamon get her egg cracked for the bread with this french toast
Speakin’ of Cinnamon, ain’t cinnamon a condiment?
She don’t look good enough to hit raw, but I’ll condom it
Aye, I’ll kick in his door around a quarter after 2:00, his bitch tried to run
I let off three and caught her after two
Nigga this gun bar shit, that’s my one skill
I was at the shootin’ range, practicin’ wit’ the sticks, that’s a drum drill
Son chill, you can’t eat a bullet, that’s unreal
But he tryin’ it out, nine in his mouth that’s a lunch meal (mil)
One shot, one kill
Straight to his chest, it’s a done deal
Aim it and BOOM, deflated balloon, how ya lung feel
I let a gun peel, act smart if you wanna see your son still
This shit’ll fuck around and do ya Yung Ill
I tried to tell him

Gang shit man, go man

[Round 3: Hitman Holla]
I say you ain’t look at my last kill? You should’ve learned from my last war
You got them kind of rounds them niggas fast forward
I heard yo’ baby mama named…I don’t know cause that bitch ain’t cute enough for me to ask for
They say Hitman Holla the most viewed
But Tay Roc might be the most loved and respect on URL and they askin’ if I’m okay wit’ that
Ayo JayBlac, Tay Roc bein’ more love just let me know he ain’t done enough to become most hated yet
Just don’t cross this line, don’t you ever forget this our soil
If y’all don’t want black on black crime
And Brother Farrakhan tellin’ another sob story
Then I suggest this hot head better chill before this built in cooling system do the job for you
Boy I got the metal on me now, I’m titaniumed up
Piss me off, I’ll fuck around and tie Tay and ’em up
I know Surf rollin’ witchu
By the time I count to two, ain’t takin’ shit to court when I countersue
Whatchu tryin’ to do?
Gang wit’ me, twisted our fingers, go ahead bang wit’ me
Let these niggas gas you up like you can hang wit’ me
Clique hopper, team switcher
Boy I’ma lose and win with the niggas that came wit’ me
I’m in Vegas wit’ two sticks like, “Who tryin’ to play the game wit’ me?”
Boy my jab nice, you swing on me it’ll be your last fight
Extendos, long arms, boy my wingspan got me ready for draft night
Finger fuck the nina I make her cum when I blast pipes
Trigger finger itchin’ I guess the nina had crabs, right?
He thought gettin’ me off the big stage would matter
My nigga y’all trippin’
I’ma still perform in this small room, this an audition
We can fade or pistol play
.45 nickle plate
I’m comfy in that water, my next ‘tel could be Crystal Lake
Bars so official Tay, do you the official way
Throw down the fishes way, toss him downstream
It remind you of Tsu Surf how I let the body slip away
Aye, if I get caught wit’ this, I’m guaranteed ten to fifteen
So when I aim, best believe I’m hittin’ ten to fifteen
See the problem, you too tough, you need to learn when to stop
I brought some killers, you don’t wanna turn to an op’
That’s ya hood? Don’t let them get you smoked on the spot
You goal tending, get the wrong time to go for the block
Nigga, they get mad, they want me to fall off
But I just keep gettin’ richer and richer
They just mad cause I’m NuNu Nellz, every card I get bigger and bigger
I say look, I got tired of y’all sayin’ I was duckin’ him
Some more lies that was told Roc
You forgot? When you was scared to leave this platform I was already battlin’ across the globe Roc
Beas’ sent me a list of names, point guard before the game, I chose Roc(k)
Boy, I say you better lower ya voice
Watch ya tone strap, I don’t drink but I lick a (liquor) shot, where that Patron at?
He try to run, shot him in his leg, I don’t condone that
Bow, bow, bow, bow…man I had the nigga lookin’ like he askin’ “Where my phone at?”

Ball game. It took too long to get to the remix

[Round 3: Tay Roc]
I’m tryin’ to give you an L in the buildin’ and on the internet
Fuck a personal, some shit I just never will address
You spell ‘Holla’ wit’ an A, you spell it incorrect
I’ll put Holla in the ER, am I spellin’ it correct?
You/Con’, suckin’ dick for some Wild ‘N Out fame
If I did go up there, it’d be just for them Wild ‘N Out dames
You don’t want me to start wildin’ out names
See ya seed pick up and kill it, that’s a wildin’ out game
Speakin’ of Wild ‘N Out games, I see you on Twitter tappin’, talkin’ shit
That .40 hit the back of his head, squirt out his mouth, that’s talkin’ spit
Awkward shit, now he in a coma they inducin’
I’ll bring the deuce into your family reunion like, “Who we introducin’?”
I gotta let him know who in control
Everybody get shot, so much DNA, he don’t know who on the pole
I come to his crib with an AR and beef, then shoot the door up
Fuck that whole house, I’ll leave that shit tore up from the floor up
Y’all remember I battled Rich Dolarz
Tried to tell you I’m a Hitman, you can Holla if you want
There’s somethin’ about Player’s Club, they’ll find Dolarz in the trunk
Well this time, I’ma put Holla in the trunk
Bunch of duct tape around his mouth so you can’t hear him holler in the trunk
Bitch slap him, close the shit on him, then drag him
Hit a Benz wagon
Holla in the trunk, sound like a kidnappin’
If I was gangbangin’, I’d keep shit crackin’
Fifth clappin’, straight to ya tissue, rip napkin
Holla ran up on me like he wanted to fight
Then seen the lead tuck
He was like, “Man…”
I was like, “Man, what?!”
He was like, “Nah, Roc…”
Like I said, “You said what?!”
Then a bald head hit ya bald head, that’s a headbutt
How you a basketball player, got rocked and you ain’t check up
Roc(k) went behind his back and crossed him, it’s a setup
I’m fed up, foot on his neck and won’t let up
Coroner’s covering him wit’ the white sheet, look like they makin’ a bed up
At his hotel room I found him lackin’
Nah, the shit too loud when clappin’
Get pistol whipped ’til you power nappin’
This shit left Holla in the room like a crowd reaction
Aye, from the roof I let a clip blam at you
Zoom in scope, give me more views than a Hitman battle
Serial number on it, look like the views on a Hitman battle
You Showout, my little brother jump in-

[Tay Roc’s brother]
Like a Hitman battle!

[Tay Roc]
I’m tryin’ to leave dude in the street for usin’ my heat
Applesauce through a tube he can eat from losin’ his teeth
Remember that shit I did wit’ the seat belt?
That’s the same shit I do to ya cheek
Reach between my legs and slide the metal up like, “Who the fuck keep movin’ my seat?!”
Fuck that, nah Holla, for real, I been waitin’ on you for ’bout…four years to come and face me
There ain’t a nigga spittin’ gun bars that could replace me
A nigga try and play me? I’m just like Tsunami Surf
If I back out with the Iron you gon’ be seein’ JC
How you want it?!
The K clap til ya brain’s splat or the Louieville Slugger base bat ’til ya face crack?
Stitches and staples in his head, lookin’ like a train track
Straight back, it’ll look like Holla got his brains back
Y’all know how y’all on one of them rides that’s goin’ up and you don’t wanna open up ya eyes?
Just like that
BAOW, Holla goin’ down, that’s a roller coaster ride
Nigga you gon’ beat me? Still niggas lyin’
Tell him like I told the others, I don’t feel nigga’s rhymes
Who he foolin’ wit’ them steel grippin’ lines?

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