Arsonal vs. Danny Myers [Lyrics]

[Round 1: Danny Myers]
You use disrespect cause you can’t…punch
The way you paint…sucks
Bitch, is yo’ mama dead? If she ain’t…fuck
This finna be a homicide, it’s fucked up I hope his mama died
But he getting this work, and from his resume, I would say he’s qualified
We don’t let the drama slide from ho threats, bitch yo’ grandma will get throat checked
I’ll lock yo’ daughter in a sauna for eight hours and walk away with no sweat
You took disrespect to heights, you traveled the world on connecting flights
When SMACK couldn’t get Lux and Hollow you told them to set the price
You started a league, gave opportunities to newcomers and vets alike
The view record, you set it twice
I can’t take anything away from you…except ya life
You gon’ see death tonight
Bitch, I stay with that extension
I gotta hold the gun in front of my phone to open the Facial Recognition
It’s the pistol grip
You drove school buses on some Miss Frizzle shit
When my young niggas in the field trip, who you think signed the permission slip?
Scarface didn’t wanna kill women and children, me I’m on some different shit
I got a bomb under yo’ baby mama car that ignites when the ignition switch
Picture this, you rehearsing bars, flowin’ ya stanzas
You call to check on your daughter and no one would answer
Yo’ baby mama FaceTime you with her eye swoll in the camera
You squashed yo’ beef with Joe Budden, well I’ma hold ’em for Ransom
Speaking of ran some, G Mayne Frost chased you out the club, you was ‘bout to get stomped to death
Trick Trick had you shook in Detroit, and Calicoe had to jump in that
And Bay Area niggas had you sneaking out the venue, they was going to the trunk for TECs
This nigga Arsonal done ran out so many times it got me questioning ya gun connect
In every battle you say you from the set, a hood niggas was born to claim
Dre Vishiss and Aktive put you on, now they can’t even get ya phone to rang
You stopped fuckin’ with ’em, you don’t check in, you done left ya boys to hang
See it’s fake niggas like you that kept me from joinin’ gangs
I stayed on 103rd in the 80’s, back then they woulda killed him
This nigga can battle on a Hollywood set, but can’t check in with his real one?
How do y’all feel him? You in front of a monster that can spit terror
You from the days of Lions Dens, and Fight Club…now you made this error (era)
Clips air ya, with double Rugers, I can humble rulers
What’s a man that presents himself as a problem, to a trouble shooter?
You a fuckin’ loser, perpetratin’ like a real boss, you exposed T-Top baby mama showing her skills off
That was supposed to be a automatic body bag, and you still lost
Don’t you get it? Outside of disrespect you don’t leave an impression
No creativity, just a bunch of filler beneath the aggression
We need some progression, you spit the shit a novice would yell
Where’s the metaphors? The similes?, an entendre would help
I don’t care if you got a secret room with a bunch of guns stocked on the shelf
It doesn’t matter if you own an arsenal if you not one ya self
Glock in the belt, pistol handle under my navel
Leaving niggas with their heads split open is one of my staples
I’m not coming with fables, I’m connected in Vegas on a hundred levels
The minute you in LV (UNLV) you’ll be a Running Rebel
The gun’ll settle, any beef, shells finna air at him
I watch him bleed while bullets swell in ya melanin
Human flesh loses color hours after death
You killed rappers, but our bodies pale in comparison
I killed and embarrassed him
Spray with a loud pistol, a K from the crowd hit you
A hundred round drum’ll spit an eight minute round with you
My shit is real, my shit is raw my shit authentic
You can’t spell bars without putting Bar God in it

[Round 1: Arsonal]
Danny Myers, you was born January 19th…of 1980
Which means you 20 days away from being a 70’s baby
That information might be irrelevant maybe
But that don’t take away from the fact that you was damn near a 70’s baby
Now all jokes aside, let’s be real though
How old you nigga?
I mean “Sir”, I’ma respect my elders like I’m supposed to nigga
I ain’t have shit to write about so your age was my go-to nigga
Even as this new Danny improved, all we see is this old you nigga
And your wife Vicki
Hey Vicki
She smoke reefer in a bong
Coke, dope and methamphetamine
She don’t just be Cheech’ing in the Chong
And she be thinkin’ ’bout other niggas while your fingers in her thong
Vicki got secrets up the ass G, you don’t see that she’s just stringing you along?
You battled a nigga two weeks ago, actin’ like Ars’ ain’t makin’ you scared
Just like your crackhead ass wife, you go take drugs (Drugz) before facin’ your fears
Cause you some other nigga
I’m surprised that bitch really learned to love a nigga
Maaan, you some other nigga, I’m surprised that bitch really learned to love a nigga
Every time I hear you speak I hear the autobiography of a sucka nigga
You came to an Arsonal battle to hold a speaker for another nigga
But if she was hungry you wouldn’t even order a box of pizza for your mother nigga
100 shooters, all got lasers, not one gun is fake
They’ll put a red dot on every freckle on your fuckin’ face
I’ll tell you what’s a thin line between love and hate
They let you close yo’ eyes then BOW yo’ head now say yo’ fuckin’ grace
Now when I lay me down to sleep I pray my soul to take
To the Golden Gates if my last breath come before I wake
Cause death is life’s best kept secret, something we overrate
But, your conscious will kill you if you know the deal
Think about that
And it’s gon’ come a day where your fans won’t relate
Niggas won’t post your song while you alive cause niggas known to hate
But sure to post your funeral flier soon as they know the date
Cause all actions is premeditated we makin’ no mistakes
Oh, retaliation is a must in this life there’s no escape
But, for legal reasons my niggas known to wait
And I’m from where you ain’t gotta be obese to die over weight (overweight)
I just wanna know who said you the “Bar God” they all lied
Double barrels; frog eye
Knife I rip it (ribbet) then twist it soon as he *arf!* the dog died
Your wife set you up, her habits is what got y’all robbed
I pushed his line back before the play even started, this shit knocks off sides
My universe ain’t parallel, it intersect at Durrell Island
Truth be told I don’t think those is the right angles to use on a nigga this well rounded
I will have you dance with the devil, I’ll put you through Hell’s challenge
Man my Ruger German with a whisper accent
Why? Cause usually the shells silence
Now am I threat to he? Definitely
Battle critics talkin’ ’bout him edging me
If this was 2000 with Jay on the remix, Myers (Mya) couldn’t get ‘The Best Of Me’
{scratches} Carolina new kicks, hottest nigga on the block
Was in love with nice pistols since I was six
High school? That’s when I crossed over, that’s when I banged Crip
Battles, same shit
Cause I gave away Clips, Myers
Get it together or, this lyrical Berretta gon’
Point at your body, I, hit wherever you
Actin’ like Arsonal can’t, finish whoever
Actin’ like I’m ya fan
My name not “Dan”
Your wife knew we was battlin’, she been suckin’ me for months
So go have an affair, act like an adult for once
Because my hand was up her skirt
God Daniel, hurt
All that stupid shit you finna say won’t work
I don’t respect bitches
But I respect Mama Rebel, Grandma Haddie and Auntie Lesie in a major way
They all born sinners, now following God tutorial from day to day
They told me, “Pray today
No matter if the sun shining, snow in August or a rainy day
You know how hard it is for me to ask an invisible nigga I never met to take my pain away?
So be careful when you praying against me
Cause I brought my own whip and my own chain so the white man will never be able to lynch me
Do I believe in miracles? Yes, I say it officially
Cause my Uncle Tony, he died twice, came back to life and had a baby at 60
Nigga I’m big Jersey
On URL, I’m half past the hour shit, got about six 30s
Return Of The Mack, you gon’ think I knocked on Heaven’s Door to get Bernie
I’m actin’ like a young hyena, I fed the clip 30
No, I can’t wife my Nina, cause the bitch dirty
D.E. from Sesame Street, that’s a big birdy
I’m suited up, two straps on the shoulder, oh it’s a bit nerdy
I used to call my Ruger my “Cougar”, that was a bit girly
Thought I fell in love with my .32, it was a bit early
My wife mature, she squirt from my finger, she drip daily
You’ve never seen her but she’s a cold bitch, that’s Big Shirley
On to your daughter though
Now I’m on some hateful shit
You gon’ think I was tryin’ to step in aimin’ a pop, at the way I raise the bitch
My shit- oh my God, you gon’ think I was aimin’ to pop at the way I raise the bitch
Life is- go ahead my nigga

[Round 2: Danny Myers]
You got this tough exterior, I’m finna burn the layers
All this gang bang macho shit I’m not concerned with player
You must’ve saw yo’ daddy beat yo’ mom and watched her return the favor
I’m ‘bout to show y’all how disrespect is a learned behavior
His words are catered, towards hatred, he rappin’ with a vengeance
To understand how he got here, let’s take it back to the beginning
His first day of school he got smacked in the back of the head, nigga said “bust a move”
Nigga said “Darrell you a lil’ bitch” he ain’t know what to do
The bus driver broke it up and said, “Don’t listen to those fuckin’ fools
Just keep yo’ grades up in school and one day you can drive buses too.”
He was uncomfortable, kept getting bullied, in fact no one could stop it
Met this fat kid named Suge who socked him and tapped both of his pockets
Disrespect seeped into his conscience, he hated band and the harmonica
So he ditched class and ran into the hall monitor
The kid liked him, gave him a hall pass as a peace offering
He said “They call me L Wisdom. And one day I’m be a police officer.”
They went to the beach often but, they couldn’t Surf the waves on the ocean
This kid Rajon yoked him up, I mean he was famous for chokin’
This ugly boy with dreads said “I ain’t gone put my hands on ya
I’ll be your friend.” Then he gave him a Transformer
Which translates into the transformation
Now he’s disrespectful, throwing Crip signs when his hands is shakin’
Million view nigga, braggin’ ’bout the bands he makin’
Now let’s see if he really can rap when the fans is vacant
Bitch nigga, my influences led to infiltration
You better watch who you view as yo’ friends
I can get the bitch that’s doin’ yo’ dreads to push two in yo’ head
I’m fluent with lead, I could let the .9 blow
But I’d rather make him suffer, bend his back ‘til his spine broke
Cut off both eye lids, put alcohol on the blind fold
Ancient techniques that Genghis Khan knows, but that’s just where my mind goes (Mongols)
I’m talkin’ Congo, gorilla shit, separating body parts from ligaments
This a symbol, but I disassemble, I don’t know what this figure meant (disfigurement)
He from Brick City? I sold bricks, niggas indebted to me
I put whole cliques in positions they never would see
I seen a nigga run off with a whole brick, now he dead as can be
He opened doors to getting his flesh ripped, we call that a “Skeleton Ki” (key)
This nigga jealous of me, his fan base is limitless
But he never had half the credit of my penmanship
I’m ‘bout to end this bitch
What y’all want? The killer Dan, or the rapper Dan?
Well the MAC in hand, I’ll address ya whole hood like Dapper Dan
Don’t give dap to Dan, I had a master plan
Back when man was a single cell organism that learned how to adapt to land I was rappin’ then
I’m my past life I was part of an assassin clan
Now I’m tryna put a M on Ars (Mars) before NASA can
Mr. Grape Street, bitch nigga, let’s get this understood
You ain’t disrespected shit, ‘til you go to PJ Watts and say “Fuck yo’ hood!”
Inside the ring, you push niggas, tap pockets, knock hats off
Outside the ring, you protected by police, niggas you that soft
Bitch I’m from L.A., I been knew how to spot one of these actin’ niggas
It’s a difference between affiliated gang members and active (Aktive) niggas
I ain’t just rappin’ with ya, I practice photography when this cat get lit up
Cause I’ll be quick to put a Rebel on a Cannon (Canon) and then snap the picture
Faggot nigga
You on the ground with this shit

[Round 2: Arsonal]
You got ten kids, six baby mothers and you met your oldest kid when he was 21
No, you not a good dad
You see what’s goin’ on in this world and you don’t send yo’ kids to school with guns in they bookbag
Look fag
You like a fat Mexican bitch just left the pink store and went home to stand in that mirror
Knowin’ you finna make Vicki look bad
Now take responsibilities
Last nigga couldn’t make it to see his kids, I heard he built a way; real dad
If I got 10 kids I’m payin’ for 30 meals a day
Child neglect? You losin’ wild respect
And you still okay?
Your wife on all types of toxins ’round them toddlers, I’m startin’ to feel a way
I see now, if I was visually impaired, you’ll dap me up, then try to diss me in my damn face
Blind to the fact, I felt your vibe, already read you from that handshake
I architected this culture, I laid the blueprints to the landscape
I got more money in my account than you’ve got people collectively in yo’ fanbase
I will no longer, beef with a nigga we don’t even eat red meat
The power is in the hair, I let the left of the dread speak
You ain’t even prioritize your youngest son or teach him to walk
You told his mama that his legs weak
But you out here on Caffeine battle rapping lyin’, tryin’ to convince people don’t matter you let your lead speak
In that case, I wanna see you rob everybody who work for Caffeine
Next week, have all them thinkin’ that the ghost of Debo is ridin’ down Craig street
I wanna see a picture of all yo’ kids on yo’ ‘Gram and see they names in yo’ next tweet
Hashtag Saga in the afterlife watchin’ PornHub
You the definition of dead beat
It’s yo’ fault again nigga, my phone buzzin’, your bitch barginin’
She sent a titty pic
I text “ass” like she from Arlington
Your deacon noddin’ off again
You and Jesus ’bout to talk again
Imagine cryin’ yo’ struggle to yo’ pastor and still ask you for your offering
To your Lord, you’ll probably never want to talk again
Man they will cheer (wheel chair) but some of the most stand up niggas I know will prolly never walk again
And that’s what the problem is
I will show up in any hood nigga, mine or his
This .40 kinda big
I’m aimin’ at the address where your conscious live
That’s a headshot
Oh it’s already red dots where your nostrils is
Then I bold the current address where your mama is
Pure disrespect, but this disrespect mixed with intellect
If I retire, battle rap will forever owe me a pension check
Your universe so parallel, why you wanna clash with me ‘fore it intersect?
All answers incorrect
You have 10 children you are a living debt
Why is this faggot here?
I’ll take your daughter’s fish out the tank and watch it gasp for air
In front of her big brother, it ain’t like that bastard care
He’s suicidal, you his idol, how he wavin’ a ratchet, yeah
Ready to take his own life
He’d rather raise and pop hisself, it ain’t like his dad was there
This the clear truth
Man I was supposed to battle- where’s Mook?
This no fair goof
I’m too calculated
It’s easy to find a square’s roots nigga
You got two options
Either jump out the plane now or a pair’ll shoot (parachute)
For bein’ a crackhead that bitch got a bit of weight on her and she very cute
The dick? She ate it, it melt in her mouth, that’s Vicki favorite
She in a gangbang as soon as I jumped in we got initiated
Danny, made himself at home, soon as you sit you ate it (situated)
I put a dot on every dot on Danny and now you pixilated
Danny Myers
Vicki Myers
DM and VM
Hmmm, I will Nyquil PM DM and his BM
Late night or broad daylight, AM or PM
A Marshall Mathers fan like Stan wouldn’t want to be him
Oh I’m a famous Cuzzin
Niggas like you gotta issue them gang injunctions
But that type talk there is pretty foreign to a nigga who ain’t bangin’ nothin’
I’m from the era Verb really had nigga’s guardian angels duckin’
You out here angle huntin’
Your wife clean the spiritual scope, meanin’ she angel dustin’
Oh it’s over bro
And this Drac (Drake) that I tote don’t rep OVO
Man, you would’ve thought I kidnapped Hitman’s brother vs. Jerry the way I stole the Show
You ain’t fuckin’ with me toe to toe, blow for blow
India, Egypt, Ciara, Dominique
My answers when they ask me, do I know a hoe
Them your four daughters just so you know I know
Nigga, my shit is real, my shit is raw, my shit is authentic
And no, fuck a Bar God, you can’t spell “Bars” without puttin’ that Ars’ in it

[Round 3: Danny Myers]
If there was a battle rap Mt. Rushmore, they couldn’t carve it comfortably
Cause yo’ big block head ass wouldn’t leave room for the other three
You fuckin’ weak, this is one dimension, versus the one to mention
You retired, and came back, cause battle rap don’t got a fuckin’ pension
You made a half mill in yo’ career, from little battles to big battles
But the only thing in yo’ bank account is the back end from this battle
I should bitch slap you, but I’d rather let the carbon blow
These stocks drop up and down, but that’s just how the market go
Arsonal? I got explosives, I keep a few near handy
I’ll drop an atomic bomb on yo’ house, I support the nuclear family
You whole crew fear Danny
Shotgun think he a hood baby
But all I see is a bitch in The Color Purple and Suge Avery
Why Ray Swag don’t come to yo’ battles no more?
First it was all crew love
I heard the nigga was snitchin’, I wouldn’t be shocked if you was
Do you believe in a Parallel Universe?
(I do)
He probably told on a few thugs
The nigga that helped build yo’ battle league is the same nigga that you dubbed (UDubb)
Two snubs, at that nigga crib, they ‘bout to up the chrome
With his wife in bed, yo’ right hand man gone get his cover blown
You better leave me the fuck alone, the Forrest where my guys put you
But you don’t wanna die right there, why would (wood) you?
I’ll cook you, I need a place to store these weapons
I’ll even shoot Hitman then give his Agent 47
This is Jason Voorhees steppin’
Reincarnated into a modern cause
What you want nigga? I up the stakes nigga, the Tom or Hawk?
No time to talk, I’ll clap you before you speak
The ratchet gone release, the strap is on the streets
I ordered a gun from overseas
Oh y’all really don’t get me
I can’t give Ars any ol’ (Arsenio) semi
My whole city go with me, bitch, I’m tryna punish Rell
This punk’ll tell, I’ll up the stick on him before he come and tell
Ya stomach swell, from a gut shot, ya whole shit bloated
Y’all seen how I did Drugz…now I’m tryna get Loaded
I ain’t settin’ this battle up, just to bring me stardom
I’m setting it up, so I can tell you in yo’ face I’m the King Of Harlem
You said, “Harlem Hospital giving beds out”
Nigga I got more bars than your grey hoodies thread count
Ran from JC and Daylyt, I ain’t finna chase this bitch
I’m not the rapper you wanna bump into, I ain’t from Ace’s clique
I mean…
You said “Guns raising (raisin) like dry prunes”
Nah, I’m tryna snipe somethin’
You just saw me put the heat on a Grape and take the life from it Bar God!
We not the same, we viewing it different
To you it’s a lucrative business me using a pen is transcending human existence
Look what I do with a sentence, view in the distance
In the past they left clues and inscriptions
Myers would be on a killing spree that’s what Dr. Loomis predicted
You spewin’ resentment is fueling my interest to be cruel and relentless
You can keep usin’ resistance but I’ma keep shootin’ this nigga
I’ll beat the shit fuck out you without usin’ assistance
And watch what I do to the witness
This is beautiful isn’t it?
My shit is real, my shit is raw, my shit is authentic
You can’t spell “Bars” without puttin’ “Bar God” in it

[Round 3: Arsonal]
You the type of nigga, give a bitch the moon and the stars and then she tells you that she needs space
Every at bat, was hit by a pitch, she used to free base
I will put you to sleep forever, if you really tryin’ to dream chase
Ain’t no “I” in “we” so every nigga on my team ate
I got a .40, a year younger than you, lil’ freak wait
Finger made her bust in under a minute, we on a speed date
I’ve seen fate, won’t you die for your people, a king’s fate
All them freckles, you’d be lyin’ if you said you had a clean face
I come from (k)not havin’, so I went to Glock grabbin’
I was the nigga robbin’ the football game while you was outside playin’ John Madden
Now my killers contracted
I talk like this when I’m not rappin’
Why? I respond to this easy (Eazy) nigga, when you The Block Captain
Now do you believe in a disrespectful universe?
I’ma be the nigga to do it first
Charge yo’ bitch some head for a feature then rap about it when I do the verse
Life insurance policy hit
Bitch, change yo’ shoes and shirt
It gotta look like you had nothin’ to do with this, hop in that Uber first
Brutal work, meanin’ I’ll show 30 in a Ruger first
Put a dick in yo’ spouse will put the tip in her mouth, she hit the hookah first
You a true lame
I ‘Hit ‘Em Up’ his condition Fatal like Hussain
Split personalities, one fight we all fight, even my mood swang
My bitch ran her net worth on her titties boy (Titi Boi) with these two chains (2 Chainz)
The long nose assisted, actin’ like Pippen did in the Flu Game
But KD, 2018 cause only two rang
Five XT underneath, TEC 9 tied to shoe string
But I don’t need guns
A part of my arsenal cause I’m Bruce Wayne
Press down on the right buttons I’ll “Finish Him” now I’m Liu Kang
Your baby spilled juice on his shirt and need a new change
Lunchtime a knife hold through every one of them juice stains
“Fuck Boy”, I officially gave you a new name
You just playin’ the cards you was dealt so I gotta inspect the (Inspectah) Deck, I’m part of Wu-Tang
You subpar
I could fit your year salary in a bud jar
I will introduce Satan to the Bar God with a gun bar
Big phase, put a stick to yo’ ribcage; En-garde
Lift blade, give you a kid fade, you won’t run far
I had a close friend
A close, close, close friend
Who ratted on a nigga he was closer to
I saw the paperwork, I stopped fuckin’ wit’ the nigga, that’s what I’m ‘pose to do
You tried to do a whole lot of exposin’ too
Soon as a nigga get up here and mention yo’ crackhead wife you mad and that’s when the jokin’ through
Focus you
Why you lettin’ me disrespect you this close to you?
Before Lux, Carl Thomas said, “Niggas be gettin’, ‘Emotional'”
You ain’t got no drive within the ride and ain’t nobody gonna chauffeur you
Be honest nigga, how many times did I say “no” to you?
First interview
You mentioned my name, said I’m a Danny fan
Second interview
He mentioned my name, you couldn’t stand me fam’
Third interview, you tried to pay respect that I’m a family man?
Forth time the nigga pulled up he really jumped out of the family van
The duel truck, I’m thinkin’ you tooled up like a handy man
He like, “My wife an addict with a sweet tooth. We just took a trip to Candy Land.”
He proceeds, starts askin’, “When we gettin’ Ars’ vs. Danny fam-“
Fifth time you say my name I pop up, nigga I’m Candy Man
This ain’t the old days
6AM, early mornin’ dope plays
The internet around now, kids don’t even go outside no more on snow days
But I wanna take it back, I’m talkin’ high school Vicki, all in her hoe phase
Before the addiction, when it was just a sinus infection caused from her Flonase
Nigga, believing in a Parallel Universe?
That’s gonna leave you dead like the last dead rookie
You the type of nigga play Cee-Lo headcrack, go home then eat that crackhead pussy
Well Danny what they offer you?
What you gainin’ off this battle? Nigga this all for you
And by the way that you abuse drugs (Drugz) I can see she rubbin’ off on you
This Arsonal, you should’ve had it on ya
How I’m supposed to believe you got it out the mud when it don’t even rain in Southern California
Maan, you makin’ niggas like me look bad
And I just wanted to tell you somethin’, my daughter had somethin’ to say to you
Oh real quick

{Presumably Arsonal’s daughter on the phone talking}
“Danny Myers you’re not a good daddy.”

My shit is real, my shit is raw, my shit is authentic
And you can’t spell “bars” without puttin’ that Ars’ in it

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