Danny Myers vs. Reepah Rell [Lyrics]

[Round 1: Danny Myers]
I needed rest and relaxation…after years of going bar for bar
But I entered this tourney to put in work..and they still gave me R&R
I’ll put you where the martyrs are, some niggas deserve Hell
These first 2 gon’ feel like a sub’…it gets shocking by the third Rell (rail)
I’ll pull a Sig’ first, and keep squeezin’ til his wig burst
Even if I miss, the echo’ll fuck you up like it did Surf
They know the kid’s worth, they gone lace me with the bread
I popped up at his crib for all the crazy shit he said
Saw that bitch that be watching ya son
BAOW
.380 hit her head
Lil’ nigga, Don’t Tell Mom The Babysitter’s Dead
Death doesn’t stay there, I’ll pull up to ya other child’s daycare
Kill ’em then hide the baby inside the dresser, I really think this way fair (Wayfair)
Say player, who ill as this?
First I made sure the children hit
Now the pistol leanin’ against Rell (rail) like it’s feelin’ sick
I’ll peel his shit, squeeze a TEC, bleed to death, he a mess
These bullets gone take back anything Ree’ possess (repossess)
That lil’ hoe you fuck with ain’t as clean as you think
That bitch can dismantle a pipe like she dropped her ring in the sink
Now she clingin’ to me, I tell her, “Go ‘head broad”
She used to suck me back in the day, but that’s old head bars
Bar God!
I’m here to keep those racks
That’s why they’re filmin’ me talkin’ to the Reaper like Meet Joe Black
I’m on Long Island, where Reepah at?
I said I’d keep the beef intact
I let it sing, everybody from ya set die, and I can find Glee in that
Bitch keep it rap, or get stomped out, I’ll fuck ya world up
My feet’ll (fetal) position ya body to where it curls up
You’ll earl bruh, I hold the gun cocked tight
I’m pullin’ the handle like I ain’t time the car’s unlock right
You on that Ong Bak hype
I’ll cut ya head off, then Molotov you
I would take a photograph for proof, but something looks OFF about you
You soft, I doubt you…with the shit
Cause any beef discussion
Will lead to head trauma, I call that a Reaper-cussion (repercussion)
Heater bustin’
And he on the ground with this shit
This wack MC got another 2 rounds of this shit, Yikes

 

[Round 1: Reepah Rell]
They said, “Reepah, you got Danny. Whoo! This nigga’s mean.”
I said, “Well, first, wake up outta ya fuckin’ dream.”
‘Cause how he gon’ see through the smoke when he struggled wit’ Steam?
Nigga, what up, old head? I’m here now, and I earned mine
You should thank me, ’cause now you ain’t gotta lose to Emerson for a third time
See, Danny ain’t even want this battle…and I don’t blame ’em!
The shit damn wise!
‘Cause losin’ to me is a bad investment, and y’all watched him fumble wit’ a Franchise!
After this, you gon’ hate me
What have you done for your coast lately?
Fuckin’ roof-jumper!
Earthquake: it’s your fault lines make the West look shaky!
Don’t you ever try to play me
What you thought? ‘Cause you on this side, you gon’ flex?
Nah, I’m nice wit’ these if you wanna test
I drug him quick, DM’ll get the suppressant: it’s Mucinex
Mafia, nigga! We brung straps!
Catch another gun, and another gun!
Heard he had a classic wit’ his first MAC (Mackk)
(*chk-chk*) Let’s see if he can have another one
Nigga, I’m troublesome!
What you thought? ‘Cause we on-
Whassup?

…You said you ain’t on Summer Madness ’cause your bars not seasonal?
Aight, cool, that was a cold line
But here’s some (summer) advice for you to win tonight (winter)
No matter how cold you claim to be, you seem to fall at the wrong time
Nigga, you know what else springs to mind?
I’ll catch you in fuckin’ Cali, nigga, wit’ that bitch that called me a PG
She’ll be mad as fuck, you shoulda seen the anger
Now tell that bitch pace herself (Pacer)
You about to lose your spot to a PG: you Danny Granger
Plenty weaponry for testin’ me
Got my hands where the weapon be
Let me give you a dead nigga recipe
You aim for the head and send his thoughts everywhere, like telepathy
This a lesson B
Yeah we leave the crime scene drug related, the shit’s beyond murder
First we kill a nigga, then plant base, it’s Beyond Burgers
Old head, you ain’t half as nice
It’s no Wonder, Years taught me how to narrate a Savage life
Talkin’ ‘matic type, you hear me nigga?
Semi getcha, one sent (cent) first; penny pincher
At Danny door with a dummy, it’s Kimmy Gibbler
You get me nigga?
Yeah you ’bout to get ya ass kicked
They should’ve gave Dan, Marino and passed this
Mad grip, yeah take caution
Heed to what ralph say
Your family will be singin’ slow songs, I’m known for the 12 Play
I can keep it peaceful, hit him with a bald flurry
Nah ‘d rather let it kick, put three on a bald head; Marbury
You told Franchise to back up out ya face?
What? You ain’t like it like this?
Well tryin’ to get to get ya ass kicked
Well tell a bald head tell me “Back the fuck up” (Bacdafucup), Onyx gon’ be coverin’ the casket
Bastard, blame Smack
He told me, “Blaze ya crew”
Catch you in Traffic, hit you wit’ a cannon (Kannon), give you Déjà vu
Fuck a crew, yeah I’m violent
Do I believe in a Parallel Universe?

[Round 2: Danny Myers]
These niggas fuck wit’ my bars cause I do it all with purpose
This nigga got a shirt that say, “Fast Forward”…cause that’s what we do with all ya verses
Rewind, that’s what we do with all ya verses
Stop, pause, wait
Why would I say this?
Cause niggas know when they see D (CD) I’m nothin’ to play wit’
Bar God!
You been asking for this battle, this shit was destined for you
Since you are the Grim Reaper, I have a few questions for you
Like why you take innocent kids that get hit with strays while they sleepin’?
Why is Zimmerman and them cops that killed George Floyd still breathin’?
You think you rap tight, you took some of the homies last night
You got one job to do as “Death”, and you can’t even do that right
Nigga that bag nice, I’m here to set it for them dollars
I came to eat, you was left in war with Dahmer
I gave y’all classics, consistency, the metaphors, the drama
And y’all had the nerve to put “Death” before this honor (dishonor)
He stole from me, when I found it out, he got pounded out
Where my money at? Wait, let me take this silencer off
Nigga sound it out!
I searched around the house
I submerged his wife underwater, and turned the TV up to drown it out
Fuck this clown about?
If I up it, I’m plottin’ to use it
Then the four saw (foresaw) “Death” like ‘Pac in his music
Rell, we not finna do this, I see you as a soft threat
They found footage of me being a monster, I caught wreck (REC)
My mind’s an Egyptian corridor unexplored before
The lore of war, horror, gore, is what you getting tortured for
Por Favor, bitch don’t make me send you with pistols
There’s a coin shortage, I ain’t tryna give you the nickle
The Grim Reaper Carrie’s a sickle, what’s that to a nefarious sicko? Diagnosed with various issues
I know you caught ops slippin’ before, not me
I got another nigga holdin’ the grip if he spots me
Wait (weight)…Judges, I spit it all complex
If that bar went over ya head then get it off ya chest
These are Gold gems (Gyms), you’re not Vin Diesel, or even half that
Bitch, if you think you are Riddick you’ll (Ridicule) be laughed at
Mag’ clap
You beefin’ with bloggers? Talkin’ shit bro?
Everybody wanna fuck with Swayze until they get Ghost
Clips blow, and you on the ground with this shit
This wack MC got a whole ‘nother round of this shit
Yikes!

[Round 2: Reepah Rell]

[Round 3: Danny Myers]
Aye listen
He a dead man walkin’
Nah, this nigga more like a mannequin
Yeah I recycled once but tell me somethin’…I can use the can’ again
I see myself at the Finish Line, fuck my rivals preparation
Once I skip Death, that 25 is my Final Destination
I’m from South Central, the murder rate increases nightly
Niggas didn’t duck durin’ shootouts ’cause they ain’t wanna crease their Nike’s
Fuck how Rell livin’, most my homies fell victim
Cause they was in the field with them Signs like Mel Gibson
I’m smacking Rell up
I’m Tony Montana’s mountain of dope that stayed raw after they yelled cut
You frail fuck, understand mine, ya man grind
I put myself on (Cellphone) when niggas had to call you from a landline
With 25K, in my hood I’m a star
But I’m a millionaire once I put double R on the hood of my car
We ride around with car lifters, I’m from the era of the bar spitters
Back when these performin’ ass niggas couldn’t even spar with us
These are paragraphs of strife
Theoretically if I murder “Death” I shall have Everlasting life
You better have a knife, tryna fight us what?
We fire once, spin the block, re-shoot the shit like the The Snyder Cut
Try ya luck, we air at ya, come to ya casket, stare at ya
Like, “He taking this dead shit too serious. Nigga always in character.”
Bury ya, big blade, this is new to play with
I start picking you, then my niggas picking you, now you the favorite
Stupid lasers, we heard you got those bags
We kick in ya do’, you know we came to pop yo’ ass
Yo’ wife made a run for it, but I drop hoes bad
I hog tied her in 5 seconds, and told her not (knot) so fast
Rell!
You not gon’ last, stop playin’ them games
Or get shot from two feet, bitch stay in ya lane
I be slayin’ these lames, I told yo’ bitch that her lips is perfect
She was beggin’ for my DNA but she didn’t deserve it
Clip inserted, rifle bang, bitch I got psycho aim
Ya blood gone show up early…cycle change
I’ll knife yo’ veins, I’ll put yo’ whole life in vain
I’m on every scene with Bat nigga…Michael Caine
I stifle lames
Fuck that
Bar God

[Round 3: Reepah Rell]

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