John John Da Don vs. Jakkboy Maine [Lyrics]

[Round 1: Jakkboy Maine]
I said, mu’fuckin’ GODDAMN!
Jakk’ on N.O.M.E, I’m finally here!
Houston, if you ready for me to kick John John ass, lemme get a “Hell yeah!” (HELL YEAH!)
Motherfucka, I had a conversation wit’ ya mother
Yeah…so what’s all this actin’ about?
Up here flexin’ like, like…like, you ain’t still sneakin’ bitches through the back of her house
You out here tellin’ these hoes, “Sssshh-she don’t live wit’ me, I don’t live wit’ her – she live wit’ me-”
Nigga, cut that cappin’ shit out
Always talkin’ ‘bout “you heard ‘bout”, now you heard BOW! in the back of ya mouth!
Gunpowder ya scalp
I’m finna have you lookin’ like a ho right now
‘Cause the media sayin’ John John da Don, and I shouldn’t make you mad
And wit’ my promo, I should slow that down
Aye, Houston (What up?)
Cool, I pull the fo’ right now
Tippin’ on fo’-fos (.44s) right now
My nigga called, I’m like, “No, not now”
‘Cause they say John Legend, and when these three stack, I’m SO ready to go right now!
I’mma fold that clown!
‘Cause he gon’ get up here and talk about my chain…
But I wanna talk about you and yo’ mama
And how I’ll kill everybody in your family, go to court, hand on the Bible, say “Fuck the Judge” wit’ no problem
Loso, if you pray? Regardless
Or lil’ Johnny, you make it harder
Bitch, I’m heartless
I’ll throw Mama Don in the Swamp for Your Honor!
But I’ll aim the thang!
Lettin’ everything branch swing like orangutans
Mama Don did the Humpty Dance, but now I let the side kick show like Dana Dane
Mama Don also said it’s her Destiny – “Child gon’ be a star, or claim to fame”
BOW! Now it all broke up, and she Beyonce over the body like, “Say my name, say my name”!
Stay in your place, like your mama told you already
I’m holdin’ the Dezzi
Your mama named you John, ‘cause he sketched a few Gospels in the Bible
Cool – that mean you should know your ending, since you wrote it already
(*Jakkboy loses his place for a second, the crowd becomes a little restless*)
You fuckin’ sloth!
Your mama house you, feed you, and give you every accessory
Bitch, and if I’m a Gooonie and you a Sloth, then Mama Don is Mama Fratelli
She walked up on me like, “Jakk’”
I was like, “Yeah?”
She was like, “Man…”
I said, “Man what?”
She said, “You got my lil’ Johnny out here actin’ like I ain’t raise him – I’m just sayin’-”
“You just sayin’ what?”
That old geezer better get out of mine and in her own space
‘Fore the chrome raise, and the chrome bake
And I’m a Laker, ‘cause if you ain’t make the cut, John, Sally (Salley) may or may not make it home safe!
Then I walked up on her like, “Aye, Mama Don, is those freckles on your face?
Cool. Tell your son stop actin’ like a bad guy”
That MAC rise-
Naw! It’s two arms up ‘fore I go, baby: this your last ride
I bring ‘em back, point-blank range, and knock the brains out him
Yeah, and Hitman can’t reload ‘cause my bullet ain’t came out him!
First shot: his brain poppin’!
Second shot: he played possum!
Your Army niggas at the port? Land (Portland) somethin’ there from a distance: I’m Dame D.O.L.L.A.!
Maine holla, “I stole your MAC-11 wit’ the AR clip!”
Yeah, I even got the baby Wesson for your junior, but Ms. Hustle ain’t have that BITCH!
So what, you think that I ain’t know?
Thought you and Ms. Hustle’s little fling in North Carolina was on the low?
(*swoo*) The doctors had your Ms. Hustle on the blade, now everything’s exposed
But we know, she was doin’ us a favor, and you go, girl
Knowin’ goddamn well not to bring another John John the woman-beater into this world
So it’s fuck her uterus, her ovaries, and her fallopian tubes!
Fuck her urethra, her labia, and clitoris, too!
Nigga, fuck that 300 at Double Impact I said I’d clap your unborn baby for, ‘cause now I’ll do it for free!
And fuck Planned Parenthood ‘cause them pussies took the opportunity away from me!
You fuckin’ CLOWN!
Since you imitate niggas…I’ve been imitatin’ you this whole round
But hold on, wait
‘Cause to imitate a nigga that imitate niggas, you gotta imitate the niggas that that nigga imitate
Well, okay!
You lil’ (Little) Rascal!
It’s one pointed up, bitch: “Well, o-tay!”
And when he wave, he (Wavy) see me moonwalk and BANG! Like, “Annie, are you okay?”
MY shit! Richmond shit!

[Round 1: John John Da Don]
(*Four minutes pass while John John’s mic gets adjusted*)

I think Smack got Rookies vs. Vets and N.O.M.E. 9 confused
But I get it- no, I don’t
Fuck is y’all tryin’ to prove?
I guess thanks for this paid trip to Houston, and my big…decline in views
‘Member the movie Life? Ray wit’ his daddy watch?
Yeah, this ain’t the time to lose
I was booked for three battles
This was the only card I ain’t have a match for
After Resolution, I told them bring me you
This wasn’t Smack’s call
You ain’t do shit to deserve this!
Y’all wonder why I’m takin’ Jakk’ for?
To show this stupid nigga why he need to be careful what he ask for!
MJ Pepsi commercial – remember back in those days?
Well, I’mma wig on fire to get Jakk’ sent (Jackson) off stage!
(Don’t hate! Shut the fuck up!)
You see how he spell his name? I’m endin’ Jakk’ wit’ all Ks
I’ll give him this, and take that: now he Jakk’ (jack) of all trades!
You see, Maine, he act like a maniac, ‘til I aim and clap
How’d Rex say it? “Murk him and leave off, and they don’t know what part of Maine he at”?
How ‘bout Bangor, or Scarborough?
He don’t even know where Maine is at
Until I bang or leave a scar, bro!
People like, “What part of Maine is that!?”
You bangin’, Jakk’?
5-9 Brim, word, you claimin’ that?
Well, Houston, I guess I’m movin’ in, ‘cause they say a man’s home is where he hangs the hat
Blood or not, don’t act like it won’t happen-
Yeah, they know! They know!
Blood or not, don’t act like it won’t happen
‘Cause I’ll knock a Brim off, and bring a new meaning to “No cappin’”!
But they say, “John John got booed on the Cassidy card”
Facts…but I wasn’t the only one: me and Cassidy sparred
Nah, but I only got booed ‘cause I ain’t let him spit no “Jakkanese” bars
Nigga, we at N.O.M.E. 9, so nothin’ gon’ come between Jakk’ and these bars
Instead of hatin’ me, you should be thankin’ me, you ungrateful bitch!
This stage is lit – time for us to live up to the name of it
Gun in his mouth, get him heated while he eat it like a Cajun dish
Air holes, drain his shit
Ain’t this the Night for Maine to vent? (Night of Main Events)
Oh, this personal?
You mad ‘cause Harriet no longer works for you, and works for me?
So you know that I got all the dirt on you?
Like how your moms is really a ho, givin’ out mean sloppy
But I say fuck gettin’ dirt on him
I’m tryna get dirt off him, make it a clean body
Aye, you see the vision?
No scope: I’m talkin’ 30-30
‘Cause Jakk’, you ain’t dirty-dirty-dirty…nigga, you dirty-dirty-dirty-dirty!
Like you ain’t never made no water in the tub splash
Since he ride Brim, I’mma wash him and make a Blood bath!
Sorry for your loss, by the way – I know y’all waitin’ on it
It’s obvious what Tech 9 meant to him, and I don’t blame you for it
‘Cause the way he hyped you on Champion kept you relevant, and you was grateful for it
Headshot – I just figured he wanted a chance to thank him for it!
Don’t worry, I ain’t gon’ talk about that tat’ on your neck
‘Cause when you called that alleged victim a “bitch”, I knew you ain’t have no regret
The matchup was set, still chasin’ clout after his death
Semi-auto – now he finally got that battle with TEC (Tech)
You average at best!
I’m one of the most savagest vets
I’ll grab you by your calves and your neck, make your abdomen stretch
Why gamble? ‘Cause he know (casino) he ain’t got cash for a bet
But watch me pull his card
When I black, Jakk’ (blackjack) hit the deck
I thought whoever mentioned Tech was gettin’ decked out hard
Wasn’t you there when T-Top spit that “self-checkout” bar?
And what’d you do, Jakk’?
Yeah, my point exactly – you ain’t do jack!
I’ll let it ring so many times, ain’t even recognize the number: it’s a new Jakk’ (jack)!
I’ll have you in the news, Jakk’, and anybody you ever knew jacked
Wakin’ up outta comas, havin’ to relearn everything like they never knew Jakk’ (jack)
Want a round? Trip (round-trip)
Talk fly here, and get flew back
New strap, take some of my day to (data) use, like a new app
True facts
I’m only here ‘cause-
Nah, I’m here for all them blogs you been makin’
Now take my dick out your mouth – use my Glock to replace it
Pussy, you ain’t got no stock to be chasin’
I’m just your designated driver, here to whip you for them shots you been takin’
That’s Round 1, nigga
Now you can rap

[Round 2: Jakkboy Maine]
(*Jakkboy gets his mic readjusted*)

Y’all wanna know what rhymes wit’ “John John Da Don”?
I’ll whole-palm ya mom
Back head, and make her give me God-head ‘til the whole schlong is gone
I went from bein’ Jakk’ to bein’ Loso, yellin’, “Oh, my God!” and holdin’ on
The stroke was long
I started spittin’ my verse (MyVerse), and as Johnny (Jonny) storm in the house, he heard the Whispers of how The Beat Goes On
Hold on!
That was the coldest shit!
Got me feelin’ like Scotty in Texas – I know I wroted it
My man said, “Chill. Your gun got one in the he-”
I know – I loaded it
I’m roamin’ with a pistol and a machete, drillin’
He lookin’ confused
But I’m just pourin’ my fo’, (*swoo*) and choppin’ on blades in the Land of the Screw
You’ll go from clear eyes to red eyes
When the fo’ rise on Four-Eyes
Now Johnny went from wearin’ glasses to Snake’s vision – BOTH eyes!
No lie! I’ll fuck the bitch that you beat up!
Am I sayin’ it right?
Yeah, John John, I’ll fuck the bitch that you beat u-
And I’m sayin’ it twice
Apex, hold it at his height
You gave me this shot, so I’m takin’ it, close-range
Stole Brizz machete (*swoo*) as I split the Don, he’s so slain
I’ll shoot the jawn (*fikky-fikky*), then shoot the John: both names!
Then wrangle him, ‘cause Maine in Texas clippin’ the Bull
I’m Home on the Range
BANG! This a road trip: click and drive
New York or Atlanta? Pick a side
‘Cause I’m tryin’ to find out where they gon’ bury the Don and hold his funeral for when the nigga die
Ain’t no stop, bitch, it’s time to slide
Hit your beanie (Beenie), Man: na-na-na!
And one bring two ‘til more niggas on deck than Amistad
Llama fly, through your viewin’, mortified
Through wayward mosh pits
I kill Mama Don, then I hold the funeral…hostage!
Kick the door, tie up Loso
BDSM: he sell a bit (celibate) in bondage
Ransom, cheese on your head: Andy Milonakis
(*Jakkboy Maine runs the rhyme scheme back and loses his place at the “time to slide” line, but gets his focus back*)
Hot shit, I’m still big-Brimmin’: Amish
Scary movie: ain’t no lookin’ back
‘Cause you came at Twork ‘bout his hairline, when you been bald for forever?
Clever! Now you got 59 hours to take it back
‘Cause you been comin’ at the gang for so long, like I ain’t Django wit’ the straps
And that ain’t Cool, J, ‘cause you know where this can go (Kangol) wit’ the hats
I’m flamin’ wit’ the strap – BRRAT!
I’m weavin’ the dang iron
And you’re on the phone wit’ the Devil, so Loso, put Jesus on the main line
Bow! Bow!
Blood on this Big T, but your stain mine
And tell ya brother I’ll pluck ya, dust ya
At your mama home, a (Homer) bullet skatin’ next to Bart: “Ay, caramba!”
Richmond shit

(*Audience starts booing*)

[Round 2: John John Da Don]
I said, I know what y’all was thinkin’ the last time y’all seen this dirtball
Battlin’ Big T…in a room full of niggas with his shirt off
The first thought? “Maybe that’s his image to look mad reckless”
But what’s tough wantin’ to be around other men half-nekkid? (naked)
Let’s switch the plate
No punchline needed…this nigga gay
Fuck that, I’mma grip the K
Let him hold mo’ (homo) shots, but his head’ll roll a different way!
You fuckin’ fruit! 12-gauge will bust his grape
Vital signs go, “Wooooooop”
Let’s just say that Shotgun got one thing straight!
How stoppin’ him from jumpin’ in my last battle made y’all mad at me
Let him rap for free? I feel robbed
Y’all see how they set up Jakk’ and (jackin’) me
I told Smack and Beas’, “Give me 10 a round”
But they ain’t have the 30 for the askin’ fee
So I said, “Scratch the three. He dyin’ in (dine-in) 2 for 20 – I’m on his apple, Beas’ (Applebee’s)!”
Y’all wanna hear some Jakkanese!?
Well, if he want my size, I won’t be jackin’ these
(*Camera pans down to Jakkboy’s unusually large, bright-red basketball shoes*)
Two guns, this between Jakk’ and these
Try to run, I’m shootin’ Jakk’ in knees
Talk different, but I got somethin’ to translate the conversation
BOW! He go from speakin’ Jakkanese to learnin’ body language
Slowly pull his buds apart: this that “sticky icky”
Do you Bad, Boy
Soon as he take that, he’ll do the Diddy shimmy
The Gooonies just Twork and then y’all
Why be so picky-picky?
Grouped up under one name: what is y’all, Pretty Ricky?

(*Crowd starts yelling “2-0!”)

Hold on!
I’M NOT DONE! (x6)
Y’all can debate later, I just wanna rap…
Still the second round…
But Walmart chains is somethin’ we gotta deal wit’…
No matter how many pics you post wit’ random jewelers, we know you can’t afford any real shit
Surprised you ain’t wear that shit today
Can’t be truly proud
Fuck it, I went and got one, too…guess I’m a Gooonie now!

(*John John pulls out a “Black Wealth” chain from underneath his bulletproof vest, and the crowd slowly starts to come alive with excitement*)

[Tay Roc]

(*Nu Jerzey Twork tries to swipe the chain from Tay Roc, but Smack pushes him back*)

[John John Da Don]
Walmart chains is somethin’ we gotta deal wit’!
No matter how many pictures he post wit’ random jewelers, we know he can’t afford any real shit
Surprised he ain’t wear that shit today
Can’t be truly proud
But guess what? I went and got one, too…guess I’m a Gooonie now!
But he said, “We ain’t go to Walmart” – like that helps
This shit was $79.99, and got the nerve to say “Black Wealth”
This not it!
Why rock this when you not rich?
If you really wanted to ball on (and) a chain, you shoulda got hitched
Now watch this
Can’t be broke with “Black Wealth” – let’s take this guy to school
Now pay attention
(*John John lets go of the chain*)
I said, “Pay attention!” You see me droppin’ jewels!
You not amused!?
This the face of a nigga gettin’ his soul lifted
Matter fact, you want this chain back, Jakk’? Nigga, GO GET IT!
I’m not done! I’m not done!
I pull up where he at in V.A., I’m on the road wit’ it
Nina, plottin’ on Richmond (rich men): she gold-diggin’
But while we here, let’s show him around Texas, since he don’t visit
Like, what you know about the AT&T Stadium?
BOW! It’s dome-splittin’!
After Nitty, I thought of servin’ drinks
Was that fetchin’ far?
‘Cause if I could (vodka) sit Jakk’ (Jack) next to Rum, that should set the bar!

(*A few people in the crowd yell out, “Leave him alone!”, while Loso and Bad Newz repeatedly tell John John to end his round*)

After Nitty, I thought of servin’ drinks
Was that fetchin’ far?
‘Cause if I could (vodka) sit Jakk’ (Jack) next to Rum, that should set the bar!
Vodka, Jack, Rum, bar?
Yeah, I’m a different nigga
My eses call me “Don Julio” – that’s ‘cause they into killas (tequila)
He ASKED for this!
He! ASKED! For! This!
Gooonies vers’ Team Homi – that was a joke
Then you got smoked by Young Kannon
After that, you went ghost
So this a step back in Houston like y’all basketball hope
‘Cause he gon’ go hard, then (Harden) flop when it matters the most
Y’all was happy I cut him off once ya heard those lines
He probably gon’ let Twork finish his third this time
But it’s cool, I don’t mind if you bring him out first
It’s just a City Girls show: what would Main(e) attraction be without Twork (Twerk)?
Why the fuck you ain’t make it on your own, if you’re so great?
“Black Wealth”, but can’t afford a shirt, soap, or Colgate
But you wanna be a baller, shot-caller
(20-inch blades on the Impala…)
Nigga, don’t hate
That just mean when this TEC (Tech) start singin’, Houston gon’ go along with it like it’s N.O.M.E. 8, nigga!
I’m only here ‘cause I’m gettin’ that cash!
It’s a body, and it’s time for you to (GET IN THAT BAG!)
So just know, when you get done spittin’ that trash
There’s still one more (ROUND OF ME WHIPPIN’ THAT ASS!)

[Round 3: Jakkboy Maine]
You know what I don’t understand!?
Aye, pussy, didn’t you just go through a slew of charges that you tried to keep up on the low, so nobody would know?

[John John Da Don]
Everybody know

[Jakkboy Maine]
And just like Tech, until her and her family exposed the truth, ain’t none of us even know
She said you did it, you said you didn’t…
(*Audience gets a little restless, so Jakkboy starts the scheme over*)
She said you did it, you said you didn’t
Your mama went live, defendin’
Is that facts or no?

(*The lights turn off on stage, leaving John John and Jakkboy to rap in the dark*)

Do you like the fact that we say you hit her, when you say you innocent?
Is that facts or no?
(*The audience becomes impatient about the whole situation, and starts booing – Jakkboy runs the scheme back yet again*)
Do you like the fact that we say you hit her, though his charges pending, and you say you innocent?
Is that facts or no?
Nigga, I’m just here to not justify anything you or him did, ‘cause really I don’t even know!
I’m just here to give you a lesson ‘bout Nipsey Hussle and Dr. Sebi that I think that you should own
‘Cause real niggas don’t say shit off of theory, assumption, presumption
Nigga, that ain’t how it go
(*Audience starts booing even more*)
Real men separate emotions from logic! Facts!
And don’t speak on what they don’t know
But that’s what’s killin’ me-
(*to a heckler*) Fuck you, too! I’ll fuck ya mama!
‘Cause real niggas only speak on what they know!
And that’s what’s killin’ me
‘Cause all of them pussy-ass text messages you had wit’ Drugz, Twork, Ace…
I know your mama raised you differently
You one way in the public, another way in private
I ain’t even digging your synergy!
They say, “Don what? Don who?”
Bitch, I wanna put a hollow through your memory
Just Roc(k)in’ off!
But this is 2K wit’ the fatigues on, ‘cause you don’t keep the same energy
(*Audience starts to clap and cheer again*)
Y’all too busy hatin’. Yeah, suck my dick!
This lil’ semi piece, I lean back wit’ the trigger
Clickin’, I’m a masterful killer
Lil’ JJ think it’s a joke
Bang! Now how that’s for a kicker?
Knee-slapper, a bunch of signs, then I dance wit’ you bitches
Nigga, my shirt off!
Drum bangin’: I’m from an African village
Listen, Marlon, Shawn, I wanna talk you brothers
You fuckin’ suckas…

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