[Radio Host]

Aaaand we're back on the D-Low, where we're bringing you the hottest Hip-Hop in the game. That was Dwoyo spitting over Cole's banger "Fire Squad," and we actually got Dwoyo in here with us today

[Dwoyo]

Yes sir

[Radio Host]

Coming by to chill, talk shit for a little bit. But, first he's here to let fans know what real rap is all about, and take on our hand down challenge. (Marc Jackson "hand down man down" snippet)

Five beats, one after the other, just one take. You ready to show us what you got?

[Dwoyo]

I'm ready

[Radio Host]

You nervous?

[Dwoyo]

I mean, nah, I like having an open mic on me

[Radio Host]

Alright, let's get it to it then. Live on the air, Dwoyo, hand down challenge, only on the D-Low! Talk that shit!

[Verse 1]

Look

Soundcloud's got me inspired

The more I hear these wack rappers, the more I wanna spit fire

Dwoyo know I'll never let it expire

I'm going Kevin Gates, nigga I don't get tired

Mic check, one two one two

Tryna make my art permanent, I spit tattoos

With the ink I could murder and make a beat taboo

You spit shit over clean beats? That's shampoo

Fuck a mic check, one take, drive through, no breaks

Up late, tryna give my fans and I an update

You get what you put in

If you go soft to get the cream, all your gonna get is pudding

I'm tryna put a foot in, just testing the waters

But everybody's tryna jump in, so why bother?

Mitt's got me thinking, I ain't sinking, I'll be swimming

These binders full of rhymes gon get me binders full of women

Flew past the minor leagues, out of double A

At 19, I already had my double A

You bragging bout grades? Ain't ever heard of that

But my degree or rap will get me paid, and that's a fact

Ima tell the whole world I got money bitch

New balance on the account, yeah I run it bitch

This the, silver spoon feeding y'all a ton of shit

Come out with a hundred hits and still I'm never gonna quit

[Verse 2]

Soft breeze with the palm trees, boy I live for this

Dexter running the city, nigga I kill for this

Love music, stay grinding, hope I make a mill with this

I ain't gon expire, so I might as well keep milking this

Got Miami dudes waiting on a mixtape

I got Tally niggas thinking that my shit's great

Others hating on my looks, hating on my tone

Throw tomatoes at em fore he reach the microphone

I'm bout to set the bar higher, do you understand me?

The only bar you raisin's prolly gonna be a xanny

So pop it off with some alcohol and just go to sleep

When I finish with you, you'll want this gone from your memory

Murder every beat, instrumentalcide

Put a check next to my verses cause they certified

Ask any of my boys and they could testify

I'll give a quick freestyle if you ain't satisfied

Instrumentalcide, who's got the most deaths?

Someone should do the mathematics while I count what's left

Of every beat that I just killed just yet, I've got mad flows

Wack rappers just finger popping each others essholes

I know a girl who said her favorite game was Smash Bros

Listened to Mario, I told her lemme smash, yo!

Shots to the face was the remedy

Roommate waking up, I got her singing melodies

[Verse 3]

Oooh I'm so rude with it

I forgot you told me that you were prude and shit

Acting new to this, like when you saw it you didn't know what to do with it

Put me in a licky lullaby, bye-bye

And no longer am I that shy guy

Pretty bitches with highlights make up most of my highlights

She had me on the wall, then we bounce like it's jai alai

Buzzing off on these mai tai, now she grabbing on my tie

Fratboy I'm living the life, why lie?

I can't say the name, but just know it rhymes with I fly

Shit, I should probably take it more serious

Feeling delirious, bumping Bryson, I see the horizon

Drank so much I almost died, but that ain't surprising

Even when I'm hungover, I knock em out like Tyson

Green eye of the tiger, I know it's so enticing

I'm getting Buffalo Bills, I tell you boys Bison!

Shoutout to my boys, hear me at my best

But even at my worst they always seem to be impressed

And it's bros before hoes, unless I pull a chick that's so tight, I might even let the compress

Now you wanna call me lame my nigga?

If she's all up on your dick, you'd do the same my nigga

You should know which girls are fair game my nigga

I ain't gon say names, but that's a shame my nigga

[Verse 4]

Rondon know the deal, so he did it for Seur

Let him smash in the car but she ain't getting insured

Dude's that get no hoes are always the first to persecute

How the hell she murking you? I just said her purse is cute

All about the confidence, hit her with some compliments

And you could be like Washington and get her on your monument

Water all around me, I'm stranded, I like it

She rode my island like we were up in Providence

Don't compare me to them rappers me and them are opposites

Antonyms, they just wanna replicate the panda hymns

I got broads in Atlanta and Dominicana

Tallahassee to Miami, all of them harass me

Didn't know that I could rap? Well you should've asked me

Call me San Diego, I always keep it classy

But if you haven't noticed, I could be explosive

I'm going off the rails, I've got a locomotive

Watch me deliver, no Digiorno

All these lines on my head like cornrows

Liquor in the liver, four bros, four hoes

Who gon jump on the grenade? Nose goes

PC referees, don't get mad at me

My reality described in analogies

Now you're saying that my rhymes don't fit the right crowd?

Who are you tell me what I should rap about?

[Verse 5]

You know what? I'll go and kick with the rhythm

My inspirations through my prism

Oh yeah, I'll go three, four bars

And five, six, seven, eight

Yeah it's never too late, to witness the greatness

Oh man, you know that I've been stainless

You could show it, could hear it in my bonus

Nigga I freestyle this and you should know this, I'm popping

And I ain't stopping, ain't got an option, let's get it popping

Abel to do it every weekend, so I do it often

Pen is mightier than the sword, and my pages full of battle scars

Wanna ride? You gon need to handle bars

I ain't crazy, I'm super saying!

I breathe fire from my dragon balls

Young Brennan dragging balls, all over the drum set, of this beat, go one breath, and fifth deep, you done yet? Forgive me, but

I do not know what a limit is

Wolverines know I go gump like I don't know where the finish is

I flow like every damn rapper combined

But only the good ones, bad ones don't mind

This the good ole fashioned Marc Jackson

Hand down, man down, I don't get distracted

Still got plenty, tank never getting empty

But to keep y'all waiting Ima stop an 120

Uh

[Radio Host]

What!?

(Woo!)

Hoooo! You heard it here first ladies and gentlemen

Oh my Lord! (Ay!)

I gotta, hold on a minute, I gotta get outta my seat for a second, hold on a minute (laughs)

[Dwoyo]

Fuck it, we going out!

We going out!

[Radio Host]

Oh my Lord!

You heard it here first, on the D-Low

Dwoyo