Geechi Gotti vs. Aye Verb [Lyrics]

[Round 1: Aye Verb]
Top tier…versus God tier
See me and Gotti sit on opposite sides
Before the lil’ loc can evolve and sit wit’ us
First he gotta lose a couple notches of pride
Cause when a God tier nigga get in front of you and y’all lock wit’ them eyes
How y’all survive?
It’s first, kill them thoughts that you’re not gonna die
Cause you will
I’m lion for lion with you chump
They say, “Geechi Gotti can punch. He nuts.”
So
Just like Nutso he gon’ die off the jump
E’rybody bleeds nigga, I done lost a few times
Blood ain’t comin’ out my mouth no mo’, like Tekashi69
L.A. bars, I’ma talk to this nigga, not try to
St. Louis, that drive-by real when we ride through
You out yo’ league
Either open eyes with a wide view or two vice grips
And I’ll stretch the I (eye) like “Piru”
Nightmares come when you niggas sleepin’
I left “Vegan Verb” at home, this beef man
Fuck that peace shit, its cinematics
If I gotta spit ‘matics the car creepin’
Smokin’ anything that the K see (KC) then we Chief-in’
That’s Midwest shit
Rah!
Chest rip like Akuma shit
I know you heard, but I seen it my nigga, the rumor flipped
I’m a boss
Bitch I’m way too boomin’ to boom yo’ shit
Buy my youngins fast food all month for they foolishness
Rock, paper, scissors
See you scissors right now, but you legit
The better bet it’s
Always on Roc(k) like a Puma fit
11 years, my peers ask me, “Verb how you do that shit?’
Get yo’ mind and body right, that turmeric tune yo’ shit
New niggas always think they can hang, how true is this?
Y’all get the big head, I adjust the noose and loose the fit
Like, “Come here nigga.”
You read (red) me wrong and I blew (blue) yo’ shit
You gotta nail a God to cross the lines and nigga, I’m not yo’ crucifix
Aye, I’m confused a bit how you start yo’ rounds like, “You’se a bitch”
But you get flew out by dudes and shit
Get a bag, go home and buy weave bundles
No, you’se a bitch
Ask my city, they say I’m the face, how that real sound
Everything that I did you tryin’ to do now
It means nothin’
30 days to get ready? Let’s get down
Old niggas who used to kill ain’t worried about young niggas that kill now
The dope house, it was a Full House
The shit was wicked
That’s why that white girl had to stay next door; that Kimmy Gibbler
Ain’t worryin’ if Crip be trippin’, I’m from it so miss me wit’ it
In any field I show signs of a slide, my pitch be different
Wrap my arms around yo’ mama big sister
Her frail body, and crush her
Sorry, gotta go, TT, I just spelled “Gotti”
Heard yo’ patnas like to smoke that dip and they feel brolic
If they put that water in ’em, you gon’ pull a shell out ’em
On God
Most of you rappers just grow an image, I know your gimmick
Is to try to turn O from Menace to a token hero
See it’s no convincin’ cause you so focused on dope and killin’
I can’t see myself in these fake niggas through smoke and mirrors
Be honest
Vers’ me you can’t win because your mind clouded
Open your omelette, and let go nigga, ya thoughts in bondage
Your rhymes is catered to convicts and Crown Vics, I’m beyond it
Full speed ahead, straight forward tonight I’m Giannis
I’m conscious, but not tonight nigga I’m wit’ the nonsense
The locked hair, hombre blond twisted John Wick
S.T.L., we back (h)ours like y’all time switch
You the king? I had the heir to the throne like LeBron bitch
Yo, round one, I’m on top of yo’ head let’s get to drillin’
Round two: Blade, I cross his scalp, lower his ceilin’
In round three, take the skin off his Adam Apple it’s so appealin’
Then let the wind hit his skull
Geechi Gotti death ’bout to be bone chillin’
Look how I talk to you niggas like grown children

[Round 1: Geechi Gotti]
URL gave me a home game!
I appreciate Verb cause he popped out
To battle me in L.A.? That’s what most these scary niggas not ’bout
Ain’t finna wrestle witchu in this ring though, you gettin knocked out
Think Chris, I been one (Benoit) to catch a body in my house
The Glocks out
I ain’t for play play
Cuz get pistol whipped ’til ya skull open
Go from pill to crack, it was gateway drug
Nigga you ain’t no thug
You be on some gay shit
I remember nights I had the chopper givin’ face lifts
Pull up, skkkkrt
Hop out and let the K spit
Arm pointin’ out the Audi (Adi), Boom-in’ to make a statement
Gang shit
They said bangin’ was fade, we will eventually get tired of poppin’ straps
‘Til I seen a nigga get buried under the dirt
I told his mama, “I don’t think he can grow outta that.”
A lotta straps
I stay promotin’ the violence
I’ma shoot ’til ya fam’ in tears
That mean every man, child and woman is cryin’
Amazin’ how somethin’ so loud can create a moment of silence
Nigga beam wit’ the red dot
Shoot ’til ya chest pop
Gang of guns soundin’ off my nigga, the lead hot
Got me feelin’ like a truck driver
Cause the MAC goin’ to (’til) the rest stop
Get ya neck shot
Bullet come out this fag face
You gettin’ buried under them greens that ya ass ate
Now ya really are what you eat Verb, you plant based
You damn straight
Most these battle niggas nerves get punched and kicked ’til ya face planted on the curb
Stompin’ on Verb
Gave a whole new meanin’ to standin’ on my words
I remember, standin’ on the curb, seein’ niggas die at the start of summer
I shot niggas and been shot
I know karma well enough I could’ve borrowed from her
Ya dawg’s a gunner, that’s why I ride strapped
Cause I ain’t tryin’ to die or gettin’ killed, I’m hittin’ corners with the baby on my lap
My son think he drivin’ for real, nigga I’m in the field
I was on some locin’ shit
I still remember the first time I had to hold the grip
Shots was goin’ everywhere when I blowed the shit
Homies was callin’ me “Anwar”
It was plain to see I couldn’t control the bitch
Unloadin’ clips, you finna get killed
Beggin’ for your life in front of this steel
He askin’ me not to, but I’m drop ’em anyway, nigga Hip Hop Is Real
Aye what’s the deal?
I got a gang of Crips outside, you should be very scared
This gangbangin’ like teachin’ kids
Aye, be (B) C’s everywhere
I couldn’t even imagine you in jail, I just can’t see it happen
You say you Captain Marketable, I know some niggas ready to mark out the captain
So what’s happenin’
I’m talkin’ locks in the socks, prolly open hand slap him
Just sayin’, if I ever caught Verb on a sentence, just know that it’s action
Yeah nigga the .4 will hit you
Dome shot, exposin’ tissue
Anybody showin’ concern for Verb, I’m unloadin’ pistols
So if they yellin’, “Aye hold on!” they just be goin’ witchu
Cause when it’s real, y’all can tell
Nigga rap

[Round 2: Aye Verb]
Aye shut yo’ mark ass up nigga
I don’t got no punchline or nothing, I just kinda like the way that shit sounds
Ain’t no one on one fights in St. Louis, out here the way y’all get down…
You mean to tell me, I can approach your whole staff like, “Look. I don’t wanna problem with y’all fam’
But me and Gotti gotta throw hands
And all along I get to wash this pussy, this a hoe bath.”
What’s up?
Three minute rounds – book me – long time
Preview – 3D
So it…
Any city I’m in, I’m wit’ whatever
I’ll be on Nutty Blocc wit’ Nutty Bars
That means it’s a wrap when two sticks together
I’m in yo’ yard, arms stuck to the torso
Two .5’s on each side like Goro
Let’s go to war bro
Yo, this the only gang where they mute yo’ face and they mark yo’ soul
If somethin’ happens to me y’all hearts will show
He was Artic cold, fuck ya
I stand alone with the darkest poles and a scarlet rose
Cause any mark that y’all mark marvelous I mark they toes
That’s a body bag
Gotta talk in code around Marcus, I’m often told
He don’t understand he stand for the streets but don’t walk that road
Why the fuck yo’ Instagram got 1,200 pictures? Who taught you bro?
I’m from the hood
Street niggas ain’t never been photogenic, it’s too hard to pose
I’m greatness, God favored and gifted
See of course I’m a boxer in the ring I’m Triple G
I’m the best in the world
They don’t make ’em like me no more, bro you gotta check if I’m sterile
I’ll put this TEC to yo’ swirl
Smack yo’ daddy but yo’ daddy ain’t thorough
Keep yo’ daughters away from me cause I’m dawg Smack, protect yo’ little girls
Grrr
DMX sound
Next round I will flip yo’ bars around BMX style, just like a pro
If every night if I gotta face Mike and guard the coves
It’s kinda hard to notice anything cold about [?]
I’m wit’ the giddy up
After it’s over let’s get ’em up
I call my right hand “rendezvous”
Cause these (Z/disease) silent; chlamydia
I split him up
Fuck the buck 50 and sit him up
Or sit him down with a couple of rounds then send him up
Baby .9
With a drum the same size as a sippy cup
Bullets move in and out yo’ body same motion they stick you up
Man of the house by 13
The way we live was rough
Forced to grow up fast
Only could be a kid by Dream like Nivea
I used to get it in on bitches just cause they give it up
Now if she suck me, and she don’t got a bag I don’t get a nut
I show you niggas love, that’s how I give it up
Niggas always wanna take credit from Verb who ain’t get enough
I can’t debate witchu, cause you was created
Can’t you see?
URL needed a face for this L.A. market, preferably street
Gettin’ my name, it’d cost a fee, but they’d get to control the market
So you ain’t top tier, you a puppeteer
You need a helping hand to talk to me
Boy you spit that same shit every night, that shit borin’
Fuck these Tales From The Crypt (Crip)
Cause my real skeletons come with stories
The pain awful
Rum watchin’ his brother drown like Ray Charles fool
This Pedigree of rapper in front of me is just dog food
They all chewed
Houston, we got a problem, they all Screwed
Bring it back
Don’t go past the bar, fuck law school
We here to rap
You remain normal, and think in yo’ mind like I can’t harm you
The cap split his wig like Hey Arnold
It leave a stain on you
Before the battle, you walk to this stage and you had a pop
After the battle, I’ma take a few pictures and drag a box
All that finger pop, Gotti, get outta that thinkin’ bruh
Bar after bar, is the reason you dead like the King Of Pop
What’s up?!

[Round 2: Geechi Gotti]
You said you can’t fuck a bitch before a battle
Whatchu thought? This was a boxin’ match?
Imagine you at home wit’ yo’ lady she ass naked, you ’bout to smack
You like, “Nah baby chill out.”
Turn on YouTube and start watchin’ SMACK
Y’all niggas vouch for that?
How is gettin’ pussy fuckin’ wit’ yo’ rhymes?
You gay as shit and statements like this show it every time
You say it’s a preparation issue, but you just disguisin’ the fact you couldn’t fuck a bitch cause you had another nigga on yo’ mind
I mean, I fuck bitches befo’ every battle Verb
And I’m doin’ fine
Maybe if you finally got you some pussy, you wouldn’t be up here actin’ like a pussy every time
Nigga I’m a Crip
Let one of my patnas get shot, I don’t cry
I Crip about it
Ya mom’s a dyke? I put this strap in her mouth, you shouldn’t trip about it
You got to see yo’ mother fuck another bitch Verb? You got me beat
Unfortunately that double murder was the only time I got to see two pussies under sheets
Nigga, I told the homies he can leave in peace or it’s hella homi’s
So after this L, be(B) G, or it’s T-shirts for e’rybody
Nigga you livin’ hella sloppy
But you think it’s godly
You fuckin’ tweakin’
Ya dyke ass mama was a fuckin’ bird
She left ya daddy, turned butch, and- she got some fuckin’ nerve
She motherfuckin’ basically raised you in the house with no meat, so she the real reason we got this Vegan Verb
This shit absurd
They say there’s a bunch of day niggas in battle rap
That might be true
They say some of these top tiers like boys
That might be you
But even if it ain’t we’d be lyin’ if we say we ain’t think it was dawg (dog) the whole time like Chinese food
Nigga I need you, to look in that cam’ and say you ain’t gay
….
This one of the moments we gon’ judge you on what you ain’t say
Nigga why would you wanna test the rookie?
Ya mom’s a dyke, that alone tells me that growin’ up, your household was extra pussy
Nigga you soft as cookies, sweet as cinnamon
I can tell the way you spoke to Hitman in that third round that deep down you envied him
Cause maybe if you had a Big Gerald in yo’ life you wouldn’t be so feminine
Nigga you’se a bitch!
Argue with females online like a hoe would do
Nigga you’se a bitch!
Swing ya hair and bat ya eyes, all shit men ain’t ‘pose to do
Nigga you’se a bitch!
Prolly go home, take this off, put on spaghetti straps and keep a pocket book close to you
Nigga you’se a bitch!
Walked in the venue full of niggas and got an attitude cause ain’t nobody spoke to you
Nigga you’se a bitch!
You think because we see you with females that we think you stabbin’ shit?
No lie, versus B. Dot you was with a girl that was bad as shit
But that don’t mean nothin’ to a shooter Verb, I can bet a stack of chips
That all it take is a headshot, and I can get any of these coroners
To bag ya bitch
Nigga savage shit
You get shot in the face wit’ a big ole’ gun
They gon’ see you lookin’ dead on cam’…like Jim Jones son
Nigga, motherfuckas like you, just don’t get it my nigga
Cause you is one of the top spittas
And these niggas don’t give you credit, and that’s fucked up
I feel like these niggas is hoes but don’t worry
Cause after you dead, they can finally admit that you cold

Rap nigga

[Round 3: Aye Verb]
Real talk third rounds…that’s this nigga’s favorite move?
Oh Geechi
See you just Geechi Gotti
I’m like Irv Gotti, I created the Rule
Fool
You know how easy my role would’ve been if Smack liked me?
Smack don’t like the St. Louis niggas, but he act like it
But whether (weather) or not our relationship cloudy or cold climate
Every time when (wind) he make it rain, I bring lightenin’
Excitin’, to watch E.F.B. construct a group
Of one line, punchline niggas and y’all all the truth
But…two time Champion winner just highlights you
And we all know that they all buckle down and snap together
So you don’t have a round to waste (waist)
So when you hold the belt up by yourself it kinda throws me for a loop
Proof
2017, me and B. Dot we challenged minds
I walked by and gave you five while you was waitin’ in line
Now everybody got they time when they greatness arrive
But in three years who the fuck can grow from 5’4″ to 6’5″?
Tell me I’m lyin’
Community Revolution In Progress, that’s what CRIP means
Did you know that child?
Y’all was an extension of the Black Panthers way before yo’ time
You a reputable but all you do is rep the bull on how you’ll blow that .9 and you’ll smoke yo’ kind
When the original stood for the color of our skin, why you don’t show that side?
God!
Tell yo’ people what happened to all your bros that slide
They get smoked or have to go inside
And if they get smoked y’all don’t hold shit down
Y’all make shirts and hold up signs
And when his kids grow up with the same mind y’all like, “So what? Fine.”
Nah
Y’all better stop believin’ these rapper guys
If Geechi was a real shooter, none of his battles here could ever be advertised
Gotti craft his lines for you asinine and y’all gas him; formaldehyde
He don’t have a mind
Even if he had half a mind he’d still be a lap behind
These suckas that y’all pacify, barely even appetize, chicken wrap and fries
I bring yams and apple pies but y’all laugh at mine praise average guys, why?
Same shit when he rap his rhymes
Arms, over and over again like the travel sign
Why y’all tap my line?
I’m done with beef, I passed (past) my prime
My spot I never leave, I don’t need alibi
First class, get on the plane, dress plain but still travel fly
Your bros put all the work in for California on the battle side
See I had to carry mine
I came in with three on my back like Allen I
I gripped this .40 cal’ of mine
Aim for the loc’ shin (lotion), not talkin’ calamine
Fuckin’ mortal
You need 100% to even stand beside
A god only need 10%, bitch let me have them tithes
You can’t take this heat Gotti, your melanin low
I’m an elegant, intelligent, felon with soul
You nobody for the Crips but you be sellin’ it though
Blue wise, this nigga Buns; Belly intro
How you childish with flows but challenging pros?
Hell if I know
You just a workout; beginners Tae Bo
But salute him; bravo
My shit’s spicy like every Thai bowl
But only you and I know
That 30 days to get ready nigga…I can do that
But URL had to push the twist like a childproof cap
E’ry time y’all niggas dissed me I just smiled through that
I show up, kill y’all and show y’all love, why y’all don’t do that?

[Round 3: Geechi Gotti]
You was dope in yo’ era bro
But bro it’s different
I’m the number one battler now, plus the most consistent
I battled on all the top leagues, with no restrictions
Plus I’m a Crip so when I rap, the locs is listenin’
Plus the Damus
Me and B. Dot showin’ y’all that, red and blue can be coexistent
Plus my flow is vicious, like the homie Vishiss
His baby girl showed y’all that the west is known for lyrics
See, y’all said Day’ was wrong for gimmicks
It dethroned his image
But until he showed his ass on stage the shit he rapped about, y’all ain’t wanna hear it
This the Gang Land
Artificial clones should fear it
I wish Nitty was here to put a C in his face and say “fuck social distance”
But bro just listen
You a funny fuckin’ guy
But what made you think all them jokes will work?
When every battle I go berserk
From big name to small name I show my worth
I treat a one rounder with TED like my war with Surf
Even at Genesis y’all would’ve thought I was Anwar the way “I spoke to Twork”
Now listen
A west nigga run battle rap, oh I know it hurt
My old job was puttin’ niggas faces on they homie’s shirt
But hold up first
How the fuck did you get here?
I been on the court
You should be in the stands, you had a whole fuckin’ era when you was cheatin’ the fans
Remember Pay Verb?
That time in yo’ career when you was losin’ respect
Battlin’ anybody, anywhere, long as you was gettin’ a check
I mean whatchu expect?
Takin’ small names on small leagues, what did you really accomplish?
You was goin’ all over the world rappin’ bullshit
That’s basically stealin’ deposits
It’s nonsense
How the fuck can y’all be mad at the way the culture movin’ with Twork
When everything that bruh doin’, nigga you was doin’ it first?
But you the first top tier nigga to get boo’d on the main stage
And that’s a fact
You kept battlin’
Niggas kept cookin’ you
But since you was controversial and controversy sells they kept bookin’ you
I hate to look at you
I think niggas like Young Kannon, Ooops, Big Kan’
It’s plenty niggas from the Midwest that’s better
But since you was “hated” and that shit got- and that shit sold tickets
They kept givin’ you plates
I ain’t gon’ lie that shit was clever
Cause even when you lose, they say shit like, “Aw man, New York just hatin’
That nigga Verb said, ‘Fuck ’em’. He really wit’ whatever.”
Man get ya shit together
You started the trend that “It don’t matter if you suck, long as you a ticket seller”
You started the trend that “It’s better at sellin’ the fight, don’t matter who really better.”
But check this out, we ain’t nothin’ alike
Cause at one point in time your hair had perm in it like my criminal record
Speakin’ of records, I know niggas that’s doin’ Fed time for what another nigga said
Take Ace for example, he never snitched, he still got ten
So I never understood the sayin’ how “closed mouths don’t get fed (Fed)”
Nigga I’m fed up
You dealin’ wit’ a rider
I’ve sent niggas to God for a little bit of nada
Basically, doin’ business with a nigga I never even met like El Plaga
Where’s Saga? I need some prayers bro
I left bullets in his top on the left side
Just sayin’ he gon’ die wit’ cases hangin’ over his head like Tech-9
Nigga, I had little homies that’s facin’ time
Wishin’ they could FaceTime
I feel like it’s my fault cause I gave them the guns
They in jail for lettin’ mine explode in they palm (napalm)
Nigga, you know what I hate? Niggas like you who pretend
I was really MJ in my hood, I felt like I was hoopin’ then
My big homies was perfectionists
Cause if I went on a mission and missed, they gon’ make me shoot again
It was ruthless man
The whole gang can vouch
Niggas really seen Bae lurkin’
I don’t wish this lifestyle on anybody, I’m tellin’ y’all it ain’t worth it
A lot of jail, death and grief
I was there for everything like T.K. Kirkland
The streets ain’t perfect
Nah, I done seen niggas that’s really ready to ride
They strapped everyday
They keep it on they side
If they get caught it’s no snitchin’
They tell the detective a bunch of lies
And they still end up a headstone or a picture on the shirt of they guys
Richard Pryor, Bernie Mack; no jokin’
I’m just sayin’, plenty stand up niggas done died
And when it’s real y’all can tell, y’all can see it in they eyes
Hope niggas didn’t believe them lies

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