Arsonal vs. Geechi Gotti [Lyrics]

[Round 1: Arsonal]
Nigga suck my dick!
In the most disrespectful way I can spit it to you
All that shit you say you wishin’ a nigga would do, niggas did it to you
I’ll leave a hole big enough to fit a midget through
I’ma introduce the world to a clown
And I don’t need help from Steven King to present It to you
Steven King Presents It, oh it’s a different vibe
All that Champion Of The Year money, this clown ass nigga still don’t know how to use his penny wise (Pennywise)
But when me and Jimmie rock, Suge the shooter and driver, watch how the Hemi slide
Shotgun out the window in Compton, the same alley where Ricky died
Oh nah that was South Central
So I let a round hit you from a loud pistol
When I could quietly stab you in the navel and just drag what’s in the south, central
Out in Compton, I’ll roll in ya neighborhood, hippie vibes
Six shooter, old man revolver, but I give a 60, five
Oh but you Nutty Blocc, you Compton Crip, my mistake then
You still bang the Six God, you’ll get beat wit’ a .40 ain’t talkin’ Drake friend
Ain’t no beast to unleash you just be caged in
How I’ma believe the bars your pen state when it took you this long to get past the bars in the state pen’?
But you Nutty Blocc, Compton Crip, big C’s you throwin’ ’round
‘Til you assigned a wheelchair for the rest of ya life, pussy you Rolling now
I’ll grab ya bitch head, while she bobbin’ for apples and push her nose in now
Why? Cause I promised Gotti if he went back to jail I would hold you down
Oh but you big Crip? But you give me no option
How I’m supposed to believe your set run the west when half the world includin’ the neutral niggas refer to yo’ city as “Bompton”
Let a nigga say they from “Bewark, New Jersey”
Nigga that semi go choppin’
Smack, Chico, Beasley, Avoca- ain’t no fuckin’ video’s droppin’
I make a movie wit’ the toaster, shotgun in the armpit
Kick back gon’ make me do the Lil’ Uzi wit’ the shoulder straps
I would’ve brought a TEC wit’ a 100 clip just so I could give him a Hot 97
And niggas wonder why I Flex
I’m from a city where mothers die for sets
I really live what’s in my notebook pussy, my life a Butterfly Effect
I said, nigga don’t talk that street shit to the concrete
Cause I laid the foundation and paved the way for you Prodigy’s to be able to cause Havoc and even Mobb Deep
Nigga my .9 speak
I pull up on Gotti at five guys, we nine deep
Hmm, now I beat y’all all of this hair on his side burns; Ashanti
I’ll get this dummy shot, both arms up, I’m doin’ the Mummy Bop
My whole avenue retarded, “Me, I’m really from Nutty Blocc”
Now if we heard Gotti shootin’, what he playin’? Prolly 2K
For nigga keep goin’ back to jail on purpose, what that mean to y’all? Prolly he gay
Ya mother said you can be anything you put ya mind to, right? And she proud of you, hey
Well I could give a fuck what ya ma-ma-mama said bitch, you ain’t Bobby Boucher
So don’t talk to me like I’m stupid, cause your Tommy unemployed
Bitch I ain’t Cole
Stab wound through his chest, then push the bullet through the same hole
I never went down, cause I never got caught, my niggas ain’t told
Why? Cause I do my shit all by my lonely like I’m J. Cole
I don’t wanna know what ya life like
Or what ya stain in ya hood and what your stripes like
Just know that I got triple what they paid you, plus PayPerView, so what’s your price like?
Kimbo Slice, Miami backyard, I’m tryin’ to fight fight
Kevin Hart told me Gotti the nigga tryin’ to go night night
Now I tried to show you that there’s a better you nigga
A side of you that you never knew
I’ma show you how involving yourself in the beef will turn you to a vegetable
Nigga you ever have real fiends beggin’ you for the residue?
I’m from a city where niggas will literally chop ya neck off ya shoulder just to say they got ahead of you
You talkin’ like you play wit’ birds?
Nigga, ya dead homies got what they deserved
I came to Compton just to spit in ya mother mouth and smoke my favorite herb
Now you in front of the judge and you don’t play with verbs
Stupid nigga got convicted for everything he was up against
Y’all tryin’ to convince me that he got a way with words
Man my shit is real and you can see it in my eyes
Suck my dick! And let these people believe them lies
Nigga time!

[Round 1: Geechi Gotti]
Nigga that shit was fire!
For real, he was spittin’ some retarded shit
Up here dressed like a ‘How To Be A Crip’ starter kit
Nigga you’se a bitch!
Do somethin’, I’ll really shoot somethin’
Cross my line, and I’ll shut the Volume down like a mute button
Nigga you stuntin’
I liked you better back in them Grind Time mode
But this the URL, this my shit now
And ever since I been the Champ, all these niggas want smoke
I don’t see no lies told
Ask Smack
Soon as these niggas come to the crib, I’m the first thing they ask about like the wi-fi code
Nigga y’all like hoes, be in ya inner circle’s whisperin’ ’bout me
‘Til you meet me and realize you just a 300 and I’m a Bentley
Breakfast Club ass niggas, y’all see (C) Da God and envy
You be on D shit, shout out to them Damu’s
Y’all know how we do
My real niggas know if I holla “Asante”
[?]
See now if he knew, he would’ve hollered out “[?]”
But see that’s why I got a question Crippin’, this a lesson given
You need to figure out if gang bangin’ was yo’ best decision
See the west is listenin’
Just like we supposed to, cause you from New Jersey and Grape Street
So do you got a problem with the east coast too?
Cause Grape Street beef wit’ the east coast, but you from the east coast
Ain’t that like a conflict of interest?
I guess what’s happenin’ in Watts ain’t none of y’all niggas business
Y’all niggas bitches, you a hoe Ars’
Gotti let the fo’ spark
Catch him in his whip, I’ll turn that bitch to a go kart
Headshot, need the locks on the do’; I’m Joe Clark
You don’t want no part
I already bodied Suge, now Arsonal comin’ straight for a vengeance
It ain’t jelly when I say I got some artificial Grapes on my biscuits
Y’all be my witness
I’ma need two caskets, Red can get it too since you yappin’
But his apple in a box with the Grapes, it’s a fruit basket
Nigga I’m spazzin’, Gotti got the juice now
Mix Red’s blood on top of Grapes and make it Fruit Town
Nigga you clowns, I’m a real nigga, that shit ain’t on me, bitch the shit in me
Gun under the chin, leave a hole that exit out the top, that shit a chimney
It offend me, when you be actin’ like you from them JD projects, but ain’t put on none of them niggas
But you on the rap game makin’ money for one of JD’s projects
But I guess, I’ll let the .40 bank heads, that’s if he outta line
Lemon squeeze in his face, it’s our (sour) time
The bottom line, I got a lot of ways I can murder him
If I’m choosing where to shoot, I’ma pick his locks like a burglary
The nerve of me, I’m back on that dumb shit
Hand gun with the drum clip, I’m dumpin’ the .40, I want a young bitch
Nigga, one hit, will have his mind gone, he brain dead
Now a machine help him with his words like Rhymezone
Nigga we in different time zones
I’m on that Pacific time, grippin’ mine
If this don’t work, Twork voice, I got a bigga .9
This a crime
I was in jail when my patna got shot, DOA
I’m talkin’ he didn’t get away to the doctor
I came home to put in work for him, feelin’ just like Meek in a helicopter
Cause I got out and went straight to a chopper
You in the face of a mobster!
I’ll have every nigga here stretch him
Pistol whip, blunt force to the face, this peer pressure
These niggas talkin’, well I’ma keep on talkin’
Nina sparkin’, I’ve been on so many missions, bitch I’m tired of guns, I got heat exhaustion
This nigga’s a fuckin’ bus driver
Rappin’ gangsta shit
I don’t believe the nonsense, I’ll show up to your job and pop on campus, it’s a parent teacher conference
Nigga we believe in violence
I’ll catch ya bitch and let the lead pop
All I heard was “ooh” “ah” “eh” before the headshot
The same bitch with different Screams; Sidney Prescott
The TEC’s cocked, I get ya granny goin’ to bed, put the silencer on it so the sound gone
If I let it spray, think “graduation day”, that old bitch gettin’ caped wit’ her gown on
You a clown bro, Shoebox saved you in Detroit, that’s the only reason you around us bro
I came from shootouts, bustin’ ’til there ain’t shit comin’ out this hoe
I’m sayin’, we both been saved by the Cal’ befo’
And when it’s-
Y’all can tell, you can see it in they eyes
Go ‘head make niggas believe them lies
Nigga time

[Round 2: Arsonal]
Nigga suck my dick! For the second time
And now I said it to your face Crip
This like workplace harassment
I violate all your personal space bitch
I’m that cousin always on punishment, I’m not the nigga you can play wit’
So what I’m from the east nigga, gang bangin’ is gang bangin’, we on the same shit
I ain’t new to this, I’ve been bangin’ half my life, you must be misinformed
Oh I get it, I hardly, it hardly rain in southern California so you think we weather a different storm
Y’all know why me and this Ray Swag in the face ass nigga ain’t never gon’ get along?
Because you’d rather go to jail than break yo’ mama heart showin’ you tough, provin’ some other niggas wrong
You still tryin’ to prove you tough when you ride wit’ yo’ city
You said it yo’self you in the Grandee’s 24/7 nigga
So when you gonna spend some time wit’ yo’ kids?
Yo youngest son really miss his daddy
And yo’ patna teachin’ him how to hold a gun
It’s funny you spent more time in jail with yo’ bunkie, but didn’t spend that much time outside wit’ yo’ oldest son
See, who don’t spend time wit’ they kids, I don’t support those
It’s my job to fire, and leave you dead in your “showin’ up to court clothes.”
Niggas who think they Nutty on my Blocc, I extort those
All you hear is a loud BANG, remind you of how that county cell door close
Gettin’ locked up is easy nigga
I can do some shit right now that’s gon’ land me in jail
Why is it so hard for you niggas to realize bein’ absent from your kids life will leave them damaged as well?
You out here glorifyin’ incarceration, this nigga scared to get mail
Nigga I give you five years tops ’til you and your oldest son together sharin’ a cell
Nigga what?!
You think that jail shit scare me now?
Naw, what’s scary is bein’ the only nigga free in yo’ hood and you gotta take care of all of yo’ homies’ families now
I’m on the phone with my nigga that’s never comin’ home
Tellin’ him I just let his granny down
Nigga I come to Cali just to walk on yo’ grass pussy, you Stanley now
Nigga you gon’ meet karma
My hands speak fast and my reach longer
I never went to prison and I stayed free, so who really been on these streets longer?
Oh, oh oh, I’ll slap this bitch, now it’s gettin’ domestic
You standin’ there wit’ yo’ head down and yo’ hands behind yo’ back
You that used to gettin’ arrested?
All that time you spent away from your two boys? I blame the game for it
But God already made him pay for it
They gave him life in the insane asylum, and they assigned him to the A. Ward
I’ma be straight forward, I’ma son of a gun, my mama was ratchet
But she told me, “Never speak about ya pops.”
I ain’t never tell on a soul, nothin’ to speak about the cops
You got one style of rap nigga, you don’t speak about a lot
But I get it, you wrote all your bars in prison you don’t really know how to think outside the box
Nigga ya whole life was tied to the system
Stupid, you always guilty, DUH
That’s why you rhyme with conviction
You look the part so ya lines in convincin’
Low cut, fucked up teeth Crip
Nigga you match beyond the description
And the nigga on Youtube, he got- he- he like, “Yo, welcome to my hood. This the trap trap
The building over there on 165 and 166, oh that’s where they make the packs at
Oh yeah that alley over there when the cops run down it’s where we throw the straps at.”
Dispatch on the other line like, “10-4 did you catch that?”
He ain’t done he still goin’, he said, “Yo aye cuz, this wall right here cuz, it’s full of dead homies I wish I could bring back to life
Lil’ Half A Slice, on Nutty man he was a killer. He lived the savage life.”
He said, “Aye cuz, what he’d kill, ’bout ten niggas before he made the sacrifice?”
Nigga you tellin’ everything, you out here gettin’ niggas indited in the after-life
Ya name “Bay Loc”
You a fat Derrick Rose, man you gon’ stay broke
And a victim of the system
No anesthesia through this incision, we need you to stay woke
Nigga, I’m here to snatch every bit of saliva out ya bae throat
Hit once then make the bitch disappear like she Def Loaf
Now between me and Gotti, it’s a distance
You from where gang bangin’ originated, so why I’m

{Stream cuts out}

Between me and Gotti it’s a distance
Cause you went from where gang bangin’ originated, but I’m more world wide known for this Crippin’
I’m Crip, you gon’ be disabled there’s a difference
Your bitch gotta take my dick twice a day after she eat, my shit prescription
Some shit’ll never change, I’m super Crip
In my car I got the handicap sign up and everythang
That mean I get to park closer to ya job givin’ me the aim
Dessy rang, I’m hittin’ innocent by-standards, I ain’t got deadly aim
So I cut him in slow-mo
Word to Dobo, I put that on everythang
I go berserk on him
Bury his body I throw the dirt on him
I set him up, I had my unemployed bitch throw the work on him
Catch ya spirit headed to the afterlife, I throw the scope on him
But I ain’t pull the trigger, old fashioned ass whoopin’
Beat him wit’ the stick until it broke on him
He a rat, I put the cheese on his head like he from Green Bay
You the man? Well not ’round here, nigga Dikembe
Boy, the way I do you with this fourth and inches, just watch the replay
I’ma keep on cuttin’ him and bringin’ him back like I was a DJ
I’ll put the muzzle on it, then I aim .9
What that mean? I kill him and give that moment of silence at the same time
As long as he get hospitalized tonight, I’ll remain calm
Cause honestly, Gotti he could Die Another Day word to James Bond
My shit is real, you can see it in my eyes
Suck my dick and let these niggas believe yo’ lies
Nigga time!

[Round 2: Geechi Gotti]
All these, behind bars bars, was the type of shit you had niggas laughin’ ’bout
I find it funny, how you could condemn me cause I’m goin’ to jail for the shit you be rappin’ ’bout
I got you niggas bangin’ again
If y’all wasn’t doin’ it then, nigga don’t be doin’ it now
Tryin’ to show me you gangsta, only make me think you niggas clowns
Even the vets, talk all that shit about the PG process
Then get on the card with me and all of a sudden it’s the Proving Grounds
Nigga, you’se a clown
You was a Blood I heard that turned Grape Street
That’s some weird shit
I knew he was a fag, cause only queers switch
Nigga real shit, you a bitch in the streets but you wanna be a Crip in the ring
Arm to his chest, look like his shit in a sling
This bitch wit’ a beam
I’ll steam his face, nigga I’ll kill ya kid, now you a seedless Grape
Ain’t no need to hate nigga, y’all straight bitches
The only battle rappers from Grape Street, is Aktive and Dre Vishiss
Tryin’ to act like Grape a hood that you love
You givin’ him three up top but you never booked him on UDubb!
Nigga, I’m disrespectful just like cuz, except the bars heavy
I’ll kidnap ya daughter, you find her Trapped In The Closet wit’ R. Kelly
Yeah I’m disrespectful, you ain’t gon’ do a damn thang ’bout it
I’ll kill that lil’ bitch, show up to her funeral, get her obituary, make a paper plane out it
Yo’ little girl, that’s ya world? You better keep her out my way aight
I usually don’t hit kids, but today I might
Choke her, ’til you got a Blueface baby, ‘Yeah Aight’
You goddamn right, I’ll put the blade to his daughter’s scalp
Make sure that lil’ bitch in pain
How the fuck y’all callin’ Arsonal “Da Rebel” but I’m the one goin’ against the grain
This shit insane
Ya baby mama look good, ooh them tits soft
After I fuck her I use his daughter clothes to wipe my dick off
I’m disrespectful, I’m tryin’ to figure him out
I hope on them field trips they say, “This dude nuts”
I hope on them field trips you catch yo’ daughter givin’ head on the back of ya school bus
This dude nuts
I been tryin’ to figure him out
I seen his daughter, I said “You would never succeed (suck seed) until somebody bust they kids in ya mouth!”
Look what he did for the clout!
He been rappin’ like that 15+
I can’t remember a time he was lyrical
The King Of Disrespect? He ain’t got enough respect for the craft to write fire material
I’m tired of hearin’ you
I don’t even think you no real nigga, I can tell by yo’ demeanor
You became a bus driver cause you ain’t have the smarts to be a teacher
Nigga you a leecher
Ride every nigga wave that you close to
Scream Fetty Wap name all last year, he ain’t even post you
You a weirdo
Portrayed to be a Loc by your peers though
I know ya fears bro
You wear that purple flag so in Cali you got a spot for protection
But tell these niggas how when you in Cali you scared to even go to ya section
Nigga look in the mirror
I be he see a hoe in the reflection
I’m talkin’ real shit, ain’t nothin’ outta context
If he wasn’t a rapper, he wouldn’t have even stepped foot in them projects
But I guess, he better be glad he can rap
Cause you ain’t no shooter from them Bricks, that’s an actual fact
But since you can rap and you bangin’ they shit puttin’ ’em on
They let him do it, they just gotta tax you for that
It’s tax season! The whole projects claimin’ him as a dependent
Payin’ grown men for protection, that gotta be weird
Tell Suge he should be cool showin’ up now, they show love to big bitches ’round this time of the year
We not the same!
I really had to put in work for my name
True story, I done really put niggas on shirts for the game
This nigga made a game; Arsonal’s Revenge
(Aye, for real they gon’ buy that shit)
Arsonal’s Revenge, aye but that don’t mean he ’bout his business or his wealth
It’s just like I been tellin’ y’all
He good at creatin’ an image for himself
Yeah you bang Grape Street but in Watts you be scared faggot, I know ya story
Can’t show up to the projects without a care package
Every time he come over there, shit be feelin’ like Christmas
Got him givin’ out money and free Fetty Wap tickets
How he talkin’ Grape Street like he really wit’ that
If he was, how come when Suge got robbed he ain’t get his shit back?
Grape Street that nigga, Grape Street this
Them niggas took ya phone and ya motherfuckin’ jewelry, you ain’t been back on Grape Street since
He had trouble wit’ that
Brand new .50, I can’t even feel the kickback
This a clean cal’, you can tell by the Gun Title it got a Double Impact
Nigga if you ain’t shootin’ shit, you can’t even talk to Gotti
I’m a walkin’ homi
Nigga believe none of what you hear and only half of what you see
They prolly don’t even understand what I’m talkin’ prolly
Cause the news said I dropped a nigga, that was a lie
I caught the body!
And when it’s real, y’all tell
(You can see it in they eyes
Go head, it’s yo’ turn, make them nigga believe them lies
Nigga time)

[Round 3: Arsonal]
Nigga suck my dick! Third times a charm
I thought you would’ve swung by now
This nigga ain’t got no fight left in him, he like, “He already won by now.”
I admire you knowin’ you couldn’t beat me but him still try
But you popped up at the wrong time, that’s an in-field fly
Meaning ya hitter out immediately
Ya runners? Lookin’ hesitant
12, 13, 14 letters of the alphabet, Gotti you way outta ya element
Get ya bars up, I don’t get stuck in the moment, I’ll leave a star struck
Serve him through the window early morn’, “Welcome to Starbucks”
Gun spark, light flash, you think a photo man behind ya
No! Tommy in his face barkin’ in his face like, “I don’t know no damn Kiana.”
I’ma be real wit’ niggas
Smack and Beasley, they tryin’ to build a nigga
Code word [?]
They fly me in to give a meal (mil’) to niggas
Telekinesis powers when I’m mad, I Matilda niggas
I got still for niggas, meet my New Edition, I’m Johnny Gill wit’ niggas
BOOM! Through ya front door, knock ya bitch up, then pick her up
Put the deuce to his head like I was tryin’ to fuck the picture up
Show up to the funeral, reach in the casket and grab ya sister butt
Cause my first name “I Don’t”, last name “Give A Fuck”
AKA Durrell “Disrespectful” Jones
I’m not ya friend brother
I’ll slap the dog shit outta you and ya friend mother
How many times you copped out at court? Let’s not pretend brother
You would’ve been a house nigga, and I can tell by ya skin color
Nigga my tool is chunky, ya father fell in love with a foolish junkie
I stay ten toes down with my fuckin’ chin up, I don’t care who confront me
You a flunky and ya whole hood green
That’s why ya son remind me of the lil’ nigga H&M had referred to as the “coolest monkey”
I wish I was the doctor standin’ in-between ya bitch legs when she was givin’ birth
Cause that would’ve solidified my spot as the one nigga who get to smack that lil’ nigga first
Yeah, umbilical cord wrapped around his neck
You want a birth death?
I almost kill him on purpose just to say him and watch him struggle through his first breaths
Soon as the nigga ’bout to walk, I clip him before he take his first steps
Him and his other brother, they competin’ who gon’ have the worst death
Rebel shit
This level of success, you will never get
Special Olympics, I’m here to show y’all who the better Crip
Grape Street, we the gang
Speak in vain, heaters bang
We Crippin’ form a different point of view, we don’t see the same
Nigga, to me you still a tiny Loc nigga
So take this L and let that L sit
You came in here lookin’ for Ars’ and got Durrell bitch
I’m quick to let a shell kick
For goin’ against the grain, what I’m raising (raisin) will put a Nut’ in the bag we makin’ trail mix
But you don’t even think like that
Last night in Le Palace you yellin’, “Anything possible” and you don’t even drink like that
I’ll walk up in ya son’s school
Go to the oldest lil’ nigga class
Rex ad lib, yell “That nigga dead!” when he say he miss his dad
Man, in front of his classmates I’ll fuckin’ whip his ass
Man, and then walk downstairs and tell ya younger son, “Go stand in the street in front of that hell cat.”
Then I did the dash
Y’all wanna know what happened next?
I hit his ass!
I knocked him so far back he flew into the Ghost Of Christmas Past
Last time the nigga seen his daddy, he had to kiss the glass
Next time gon’ be to identify him and zip the bag
I said, my bitch toughened up
I ain’t gotta shoot or do an uppercut
Code word: Orgasm
(What that mean?)
She was trained to squirt and bust a Nut’

[Girl in crowd]
Talk naaasty!

[Arsonal]
He said, she said, I don’t care what niggas said ’bout him
One day he true blue, BAOW! Next mornin’ niggas read (red) ’bout him (bottom)
Baow! Baow! Baow! Another one blew (blue)
Blaow! And it knocked all of the red out him
Then you gon’ see a Grape Street Crip moonwalkin’ through the blood just to say I did it in red bottoms
Now if I pull up, it’s gon’ be Glocks involved
Mops and all, I’m lettin’ rockets off
{Cell phone sound} Brrrrrrrt
The doctor makin’ a Compton call
Surgery! Blottin’ up his exit wounds with cotton balls
You just sell wigs, I get paid to knock ’em off!
I said, is we talkin’ colors here? Or your profession and how you color hair?
I’ll slap ya nephew in front of ya mother to see if ya brother care
Somebody please dare me to do it
(I dare you)
Do I hear a double dare?
My shit is real, my shit is raw my shit is authentic
Ya bitch mouth had my finger, dick and balls in it
She did it in front of ya house and didn’t even give a fuck, cause the car tinted
We had a gang bang last night…she was involved in it
My shit is real, my shit is raw my shit is authentic
And you can’t spell “Bars” without puttin’ that “Ars” in it

[Smack]
Last round it’s on-

[Arsonal]
Nah, sike I lied nigga
No, sike I lied nigga
Sike you died nigga
You made ten thousand dollars
Ten thou- man that’s pocket change
You know what happened when they Dow jumped?
Man, let’s just say I’m tied into the stock exchange
I mean, you said I was on tour, I was gettin’ a lot of money with Fetty Wap and thangs
Where your Champion Of The Year money?
Cause I got a whole lot of gwap and thangs
You got Champion Of The Year money, why don’t you put it to your ear dummy
This “Trapion” Of The Year money
Time nigga

[Round 3: Geechi Gotti]
Aye, y’all just seen that stack that this nigga pulled out?
That’s a whole lot of money that he made from this art form
I hope after you die today, you give a little bit of that money to ya BM and ya daughter, that can be a nice lil’ start for ’em
I mean you gotta give ’em somethin’, cause I heard the stories
They said you barely for ’em
I’m just sayin’, they bitches better pray they in ya will (wheel) like a car horn
Nitty already buried Suge
Now these niggas finna get a casket together
Said he ain’t know Shotgun…they up here rappin’ together
Y’all the fakest of friends
Headshot, when I say, “The doc tryin’ to patch things up”, he ain’t makin’ amends
Ain’t no shakin’ my hand
You do a whole lotta weak shit
In the field, the strap got no safety, we in goal line defense
They said “Bro ain’t got a weakness” that’s ’til the can’ clap you
Hospital beds, rubber bands wrap you
His family like, “How he doin’?”
I don’t know, he just popped up on the ‘tube, he a Banned battle
Nigga I’m from Nutty Blocc, this shit deeper than just a tattoo
You slapped the hat off Iron, I’ll grab the iron and slap you!
That’s a fact too, you a lil’ boy to me Arsonal
Gave him the .9, the .40 and then the chopper
Just thought he needed a little more in him Arsonal (arsenal)
Fuck Arsonal though, cause if Ray Swag was here I would’ve shot him right in front of you
I would’ve gave him two in his brains
Niggas would’ve been yellin’ for you to get ya dawg (dog) like he was loose from the chain
Nigga what you do for the game?
Niggas know I be in Compton with the Crips
AK’s really poppin’ and shit
Marshall Lawrence, the way we had to chop into bricks
Nigga I’m hittin’ licks
A young nigga, makin’ racks, I’m just statin’ facts
The Feds was hot, I had to play the back
I’m just sayin’, the pigs was all over ya dawg (dog), I was bakin’ raps (bacon wraps)
Nigga face the facts
How you supposed to be a killer, but you ain’t killed nothin’ or drilled nothin’?
Walked in the house with blood on my shirt, told my mama I spilled somethin’
Steel dumpin’, I’m still thuggin’
If they would’ve got the prints off the gun I wouldn’t be here
You would’ve seen the kid do life
But I’m way too sharp like a Ginsu knife
Blue rag over the handle, that’s a cloth over the grip like the lid too tight
Nigga you too light! I really came from shootouts
Check the score nigga, we up
On the missions, we just pray we make it back like the re-up
You see us, this what real Crippin’ look like
You starin’ at dope when it come back cooked right
I’m talkin’ in the trap
Rare Breeds, we got it brick by brick
The smokers knew it was freebase like we got hit by pitch
Nigga this my shit
And these niggas be worryin’ ’bout the wrong shit
Like if we should’ve stopped watchin’ football cause of Kaepernick
Niggas die in my hood everyday, news just don’t capture shit
Celebrities could talk about it, we just want ’em to do it
Crazy, while you was busy boycottin’ the NFL my boy caught a bullet
I rep the gang to the fullest
I’m talkin’ ’bout we shootin’ ’til the lead gone
Tell the youth
“Ain’t nothin’ in this lifestyle but death. That’s the truth.”
I be prayin’ I was dead wrong
But where I’m from, when you be too hard headed, you end up a head stone
I’m from the streets, that’s what they made sidewalks fo’
Niggas done really died on my block
Even standin’ too close to the curb will get a nigga hit, we playin’ sideline pop
Nigga I’m from the streets for real, they- aye ask about me in my hood
I was a young nigga, lettin’ that lead fly shorty
I’m talkin’ 16 fuckin’ wit’ a .40
Tell Lifetime I’m ready to tell my story
Survivin’ the streets, if y’all would’ve seen what I seen, maaan, y’all prolly wouldn’t have made it out
I’m tellin’ you, this shit prolly would’ve made cuz quit
So many homies in the cemetery it’s like they workin’ graveyard shift
Nigga and I peep my nigga Knocca, sometimes I be wishin’ I could go wit’ him
So many niggas I done lost, I ain’t got no mo’ love in my heart
{Takes off his shoe}
Even my shoe ain’t got a sole (soul) in ’em
Nigga every strap, got a pole in ’em
Two shots, that’s why I clapped him
Another shot, body bagged him
Cause the third rounds just hit harder like when I be rappin’
It’s a real life struggle everyday in the trenches
.40 goin’ over my options, I’m tryin’ to make a decision
Nigga Roc voice, “It’s me dawg.”
I’m from Nutty Blocc, hub in the dub, Watts
Nigga I show love to my Grape Street so free 03 and free Hogg
And when it’s real y’all can tell, y’all can see it in they eyes
(Go ‘head)
See if he can believe them lies
Nigga time

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