Danny Myers vs. Holmzie Da God [Lyrics]

[Round 1: Danny Myers]
He likes to break down his opponents
I brought a pistol for them witty angles
Listen Marquis, this gone be the first time a .50 claims you
He expectin’ a bunch of “home” flips, nah, I’ma show you what this pen about
Why would I flip Homes, when there’s a L in “Homes” (holmes) like In The House?
I got a leg up on you nigga, I know what you got planned
Thinkin’ painting me a certain way gon’ work, but it’s not fam’
He pulled his Glock, ran, tried to shoot me, but the shot jammed
Now he’s face down in the river, blocking the water…God dam (damn)
He says he’s bipolar, depressed, he been cryin’ for a while
All he did was take them breakdowns and apply it to his style
You ain’t seen violence in a while, well bitch, now the beef on
If you who the K see (KC) when we run in (running) back you gone need a Priest, Holmes
You told Saga, you’re what Jesus looked like when you was airin’ ‘em
Well BOW!
Now give us a side by side comparison
Here’s a Revelation, you face to face with a god tryna start war
This the Apocalypse, and fam’ in (famine) the position of the dark horse
I could teach a bar course
He thought he was gone flex in the end
’til the one with the red beard found god like Malcolm X in the pen’
I was destined to win, this battle is gone get ‘em fame
Cause just like Malcolm X, I refuse to take these Little names
Pistol aim, fuck fightin’, I’ll pop his squad
They said my arms were too short to box with God
I’ve been ostracized, you won’t beat me nigga
How the fuck you on Caffeine and always look sleepy nigga?
Half the day, I’m getting money on yo’ block when I enter you’re section
The other half, me and yo’ bitch made a video session
Day to night, hustlin’, and plenty throat stretchin’
Basically, I disrespect niggas; 24/7
This ain’t just any ol’ lesson
WHAT?
BAR GOD!
This ain’t just any ol’ lesson, lose to my student? Like Dan’s havin’ it
Bitch, I got my pupil in my palms like Pan’s Labyrinth
He in the hospital, hooked up on lines (Online) when the gauge hit
His family pulls the plug before he die, that’s a “Rage Quit”
You lil’ beige bitch, you been workin’ on ya image, that’s beautiful
So I figured, puttin’ you in permanent tux is suitable
Here’s what I’ll do to you
Cut you in pieces, then put you in bags for that odd nonsense
Then spread Holmzie all over his apartments, that’s a God Complex
This is my contest
He on the ground with this shit
Give me my motherfuckin’ money so I can start countin’ that shit
Yikes!

[Round 1: Holmzie Da God]
First I was a fluke, then my opponent got robbed
Go cry about it
Y’all can’t do shit but sit and watch me cook now
Got Saga the fuck outta here, then made E break (brake), but here’s where I put my foot down
Imagine hearin’ the judges say, “You got personality! We like it, and we want more!”
So I come back, rebuttal, joke, angle, perform, and then niggas tell me, “Bro, you shoulda punched more.”
Now this ain’t me tryna pander or ask for anybody’s help
But just let me know now
Y’all want me to be the best version of me, or a better carbon copy than everybody else!?
But I blame you
If a nigga say it ain’t your fault, they the damndest liar
Who was the first high-energy repeat puncher? (*snap, snap*)
Danny Myers!
Now I see why they say this shit is designed for you
You got Verb and Hollow on your resume
They shoulda got some more Shine for you
Yet you in a tournament with PGs and niggas that shouldn’t be able to shine your shoes!
Them bars ain’t do shit, but lock you in a tier that’s confined for you
You had a scheme about rape versus K-Shine
Shows you’ll take any similarity and make it a reference
Nigga, just ’cause you throw metaphors at the end of every bar doesn’t make ’em effective!
Back-to-back punchin’ every single round? Shit is not a wise method
You so hungry for reaction, you force-feedin’ these niggas, to the point it becomes hard to digest it!
You the Bar God, but it ain’t land you where you want, though, bruh
If you focused on other intangibles, yo’ ass wouldn’t have to punch so much!
It’s crazy, ’cause I’m the rookie, but if he listen, I’ll give him some fuckin’ help
And “Bar God” suits you perfectly
Nigga, you hold dominion over nothin’ else!
You could battle Lux and Mook on the same day, and nobody will ever care
Just based off the fact you’ve showed us no growth in seven years
I’m lyin’? Why you ain’t got a higher stock, then (Stockton)?
You gave looks to B. Dot, Nitty, Geechi, and they all doin’ better, boul
Mind you, I said “Stockton” ’cause here ya are givin’ all these fuckin’ assists, and niggas don’t care if he ever score!
Everything I’m statin’ is facts right now
I ain’t gotta hate on this nigga
Do you believe in a Parallel Universe?
‘Cause you have yet to evolve, and I’m up here goin’ ape on this nigga!
Shit’s relatable, nigga! That’s exactly why this fool’s rattled!
You took four fights in nine weeks for 25K?
Bitch, if you treated your brand better, you could make it in TWO BATTLES!
Just to make sure he feel it, I’ll look him right up in his eyes
Danny, you supposed to be the prizefight for the winner of this tournament, not in here fightin’ for the prize!
Bein’ a one-trick pony is what hinderin’ son’s ascension
And how the fuck you believe in a Parallel Universe when you spent your whole career livin’ in one dimension!?
It’s crazy…’cause y’all look at him as a tyrant, and this nigga’s a PUNK!
Your last two opponents choked – try beatin’ a nigga that don’t
And it’s rounds like this that’s crazy enough to chew through your whole set
But it’s fucked up, ’cause you still got two of these jawns left

[Round 2: Danny Myers]

I think I’ma try…freestyles that I bring from the mind
This nigga got on a rock n’ roll earring, some tight ass pants with pink on the side
These niggas dress just like this and they think I’ma die
You got a tattoo above your brow but still can’t get yo’ ink over I (eye)
Bitch!
Two gods…
Nah, false idol, cross, Bibles, thoughts spiral
Bought rifles, before two Ks (2K), we was givin’ out bows to our arch rivals
Dark cycles, lost titles, spot Holmzie then I spark ‘em
They gave me a villain with mental problems, so I take these bats and arc ‘em (Arkham)
I seek Asylum, my pen’ll fry niggas
The moment we put on a mask you knew you didn’t identify with us
This man of all people is a motivational speaker
Just got out the pen, couple years ago bro was takin’ yo’ speakers
He hated therapy, but he likes it now, channels his anger, then he writes it down
Bitch!
I’ll snap yo’ neck the other way, now let me see you turn yo’ life around
You in here with Tyson now, first he was happy as shit
Even ‘Pac said Holmes lookin’ flabby and sick
We spend cash on a stick, we relate, cause on the flip side
It was buy pole (bipolar) or get left with a split mind
I don’t just spit rhymes, I kept my whole circle with dope
We was gettin’ checks off White like Virgil Abloh!
This what I’m murkin’ ‘em fo’
He a Loud Boy? He’s trippin’
Now, I’m the owner of Loud like Steve Rifkind!
My whole breed different
We was taught to rhyme from within
He spent all that time in the pen and put no time in his pen
This where the drama begin
He think he God? I’ll send ‘em upstairs
Wherever he act up at, he gettin’ cut there
His whole family at the hospital soon as I make his gut tear
The surgeon soundin’ like Funk Flex: “Everybody can’t come up here!”
You in WHAT TIER!?
Bar God nigga!
Y’all really think this guy special?
I battled Verb, Dizaster, Hollow, niggas that’s past God level
You don’t like how Ryda name his guns? This time, I’ma share it
I call this black device (The Vice) Kamala Harris
BAR GOD
Yo’ bitch thick as fuck… (Facts)
That’s why I left her throat rattled
She had me sayin’ “Oh shit” soundin’ like Smack after a dope battle
Fo’ clap you, get up and close and straight dome shot him
He’ll never go outside again…he a Home body
Long shotty, gamble wit’ his life, I’m on it now
Pull the slot, give ‘em 3 of a kind, then a Bonus Round
You better tone it down, I’ll fuck you up in this bitch, trust me
You’ll be found somewhere in Alaska thinkin’ you husky
mush niggas in they face, and you on the ground with this shit
Give me my motherfuckin’ money so I can start countin’ that shit
Yikes!

[Round 2: Holmzie Da God]
You always tryna “freestyle”, and nine times out of ten, they was fuckin’ wack
Your last round w-
I’ll smack the shit out you, Danny! Rebuttal that!
Your slogan is, “God bless the man that stands in front of these bars”
But lemme ask you somethin’, Daniel
What happens when…God’s the man that stands in front of these bars?
I don’t really feel Cuz, mainly just ’cause dude be bogus
14 days ago, I told you to quit, but you’d rather stand here and get fired on
You shoulda took your two-week notice
Pistol-whip him, ‘fore I dump this shit all in his head
But if I leave his face wit’ a bruise, will his (Bruce Willis) Sixth Sense tell him that he already dead!?
Who the fuck you talkin’ to, Danny? I’m an actual rapper!
You just button-mash when you spit: you Parappa the Rapper!
That’s why I’m finna kill you and anybody that ever heard of this nigga!
Murder a nigga!
Mask up when I Purge on a nigga!

Pirate captain: either the stick by my leg, or put the bird on a nigga!
BOW! How the fuck he still twitchin’ after he dead!?
You know what I don’t understand!? THE NERVE of the nigga!
Make one wrong move, and my fists where your chin’ll be at!
Soon as he go down, load (download)
Send your shit to the Cloud, and they can’t get your memory back
But if you happen to get away when I shoot with the TEC
You’ll just escape death, but don’t worry…(*chk-chk*) ’cause God ain’t through wit’ you yet!
Silencer on the machine
I got discretion when I load and off it
Ffft-ffft! Ffft-ffft!
So when I give a simp the ‘matics (asymptomatic), he won’t even know he caught it!
When I look in his eyes, it’s (Isis) clear that fear set in (Seti)
He gettin’ me pissed off
This whore is (Horus) is trouble when a new Bis’ (Anubis) get in his face
I’ll squeeze clips off
Unkle Ra gon’ be like, “Holmzie took this shit, 3-zip, y’all!”
Mind you, I just said Isis, Set, Horus, Anubis, Ra
Yeah, so when Holmzie won, y’all won’t be able to say that he gypped (Egypt) God!
I’ll let this fists off! I ain’t always gotta tuck a pipe!
You got ten years on me!
Your old ass know what’ll happen if we fuckin’ fight!?
You’ll catch a elbow, I throat-check him
He take a knee: we protestin’
It’s bone-chillin’, jaw-droppin’
I’ll…(k)not God: false prophet!
They all watchin’, shit hectic when the Smith n’ get to dumpin’
Nigga, I’ll come to the West and fuck everything up, like I’m Christopher Columbus
You told Tink you from Cali, so you can drop a six-fo’ (6’4″) nigga
I ain’t gon’ lie – the shit was wicked!
But let’s see if Danny can take pain as good as he can dish it
He get a headshot, his ribs pop, I take a foot – will he live it?
I drop the top, your side get rocked, then bottom drop: we hittin’ switches!
These niggas bitches!
Catch a couple on cam’, come see about me
I said “a couple on cam'” ’cause I bring niggas pain and war (Anwar)…READ ABOUT ME! (Reda)
And it’s CRAZY ’cause this round is worse than my last one!
Well, what’s fucked up for him is it’s not even my last one
YOU DOWN 2-0, nigga! Fuck outta here!


[Round 3: Danny Myers]
Aye…when yo’ home boys finish doin’ yo’ hair…do they get a lot of gwap paid?
Fuck that, pistol square on his scalp, we call it “box braids”
Glock raised, right on his wig, then a shot blaze
Now he got two hair styles, you’ll see his locks fade
Bitch!
Dre Dennis the leader of the Loud Boys? Cool, that nigga often soft
I’ll cut his head off, then put it on a chain, that’s how you Floss The Boss

I’m too cold! Don’t panic nigga!

You ain’t a general cause the game is lyrical
These niggas think that every pain is physical
No, I’m tryna stain ya spiritual
Loso vs Ryda, you on stage with the same material
No progression, you show aggression and dope projection
You talk all these black magazines but don’t know the Essence
Please take my flow as blessings, I am Hip Hop
On my way to Summer Madness, you were just a pit stop
LL with the Kangol, made me get my pen tight
Even with a eye patch Slick Rick gave me insight
What do you bring to the table? I know I gotta stop him
If “The God” is in yo’ rap name, you better spit like Rakim
And you don’t, these young niggas disrespectin’ legacies
My skills are Triple H’s, bitch I am the Pedigree
I am a giant, I knew I could mess with him
I’m only 5’7”, but my bloodline is Nephilim
This a college basketball style tournament, with brackets and wars ragin’
And see, aye, aye, (NCAA), we in Fairfax, Virginia, what’s more amazin’
Do you believe in a Parallel Universe?
I do
I keep the metaphors blazin’
He in the Final Four, and ain’t supposed to be; George Mason
Fours raise ‘em, bitch ass nigga, we keep wild toys
The trey’ll kick off in his dome; Cowboys
Loud Boys, let’s see, Dre Dennis battles total a million with that
You’re the crazy psycho with the villainous raps
We all know Krooger (Kruger) attacks children in fact
And a snaggle toothed nigga named Floss to fill in the gap
Bitch I been in the trap!
In South Central, they tried to get me gone
My grandma bought the same couch they laid Ricky on
You get me Holmes?
I’ll invest that money before the stacks is gone
Tired of transportin’ work with a tail car as a chaperone
My niggas followed me, that’s the basics in the hood
They never let police come in between us, the relationship was good
You did the best you could
You on the ground with this shit
Gimme me my motherfuckin’ money so I can start countin’ that shit Yikes!

[Round 3: Holmzie Da God]
Niggas asked how I’mma prep for you compared to my last two
‘Cause you different and…dope wit’ the gift of gab
I asked ’em, “You ever went and bought, bread, milk and bleach from the store?
They all gon’ carry out the same, I just gotta go in a different bag
Every time you niggas count me out, I fuck these brackets up and come back hard as ever
And they put a Warrior against one of they Trailblazers, this Damien Curry
And they just came to see what guard (God) is better
You know what thing about Danny that brings some laughs to me?
The fact that his old ass really be out here callin’ niggas a “wack MC”
Pistol out, pistol whip his mouth, whack him, see
You’ll get beat so fuckin’ bad, they thought it was produced by Cassidy
You get emotional when niggas bring up ya wife’s addiction bro
I ain’t gon’ lie son, you do this shit a lot…and at one point I felt you
‘Til I found out, you was the first nigga that used her as a prop
But Mike P go into detail about it, now everybody said he went overboard
You a killer, right Myers?
You should know your whore’ll (horror) be the main thing we know you for
I just need somebody to stop me, if I’m lyin’ right now
It must be hypothermia, cause it’s always, “I’m too cold!” and that’s exactly why you dyin’ right now
A year ago, if I would’ve told y’all I could beat Danny’ll say I’m trippin’, right?
Don’t ever talk to me ’bout no fuckin’ level up, nigga I been this nice
But Smack, P, Beasley, give me [?] mad excuses why I couldn’t be on them big stages yet
And all them shit’s broken too
Nigga said, “You can rap. You just gotta work on ya branding.”
I’m the talent, y’all the label, bitch branding is what y’all supposed to do
But the fans say I always lose, this shit make me not know how to act no more
Niggas say I always lose
Look at my track record
Reepah got put out the first week, we don’t even know where Moon be at no more
Big Kannon? Danja Zone? After me, them niggas ain’t been on SMACK no more
And you motherfuckers love to bring up this Joe battle
Joe?!
Man that nigga don’t even rap no more
If you hate it, sit home and eat a dick, watch this shit from the bleachers
Niggas counted me out, now they want me to win
I really am God, I made these niggas believers
After this, my stock on URL will never be the same
Shoot Danny dead in his head in the middle of his sleep, just to make sure each bullet is embedded (in bed dead) in his brain
A broken mouth, and wired jaws what you get, if ever a nigga will play me
You ever have vertigo? Word
Make one wrong move and this whole shit’ll get shaky
I grip a .380, chase him down as I clap him with the fuckin’ lead
Better yet, I toss my gun
Lick my hand and slap you in ya fuckin’ head
Cause I’m the fuckin’ GOAT and you a fuckin’ joke
Once I grip this .40, Bro, my Method- nah, let me stop playin’ before I lose the judges vote
You niggas wild for testin’ me, better yet, y’all bold in fact
I tried to show y’all the nice side of homes (Holmez)
But since you wanna play around, I’ma show you how to cold this act (cul de sac)
Caught him walkin’ into his crib, I could let him live or get him sparked wit’ the .4
The good conscious said, “Nah. Just let it pass over (Passover).”
The other one said, “Kill son”, so I left a mark at his door
You niggas come with confidence then leavin’ in shame
After a nigga battle me, he don’t be speakin’ the same
3-0

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