[Round 1: Squeako]

I'm the reason HennyMan stop rappin' and start commentatin'

'Cause I thirtied a nigga

I'm the reason why y'all don't see Moon on the URL no more

'Cause I thirtied a nigga

I'm the reason why Quban had to go back to Survival Series

I went against him in his hometown and thirtied a nigga

I'm the reason why Gunpowder Patt ain't on Rookies Vs Vets

'Cause I thirtied a nigga

And still don't get respect for the shit that I does

And nah, Casey Jay weren't the first one to beat Swamp on the URL—nigga, I was!

But fuck that, nigga

You drop ass shit after ass shit after ass shit and still get booked

Only 'cause you funny, nigga

And you don't really cost that much money, nigga

Determination Over Trust

What in the entire fuck does that mean?

Does your determination over-trust what you trust 'cause your determination—?

My nigga, what in the fuck does that mean?

You know what? I don't even wanna hear that shit

'Cause nobody in this fuckin' community knows what the fuck that mean and y'all still cheer for this shit

When, nigga, I got a dot for real

And in order for me to shoot it, I gotta squat and kneel

But, you see, I trust this dot'll determine where you will get shot for real

Nigga talkin' 'bout, "Dot gon' thirty Squeako. Man, this battle rap shit only go one way."

Well, in that case, I'ma just go and eat me some Chick-fil-A, haha... on a Sunday!

Nigga, I'm from a era-a Long Johns, Carhartts, and Averexes

So weren't no problem for us to carry

But me? I kept two fifties in the bubble, nigga

That's Donovan and Mary

And I'll come to your arena blastin'

Clip hold twelve fulla ball heads—Speedy Claxton!

So, nigga, act wrong and heaters clappin'

I want all the smoke—Matt Barnes! Stevie Jackson!

I don't know what it is about me but I just lose control sometime

I just back out and start shootin'; nigga, that's the way I goes for mine

Big fo'; that's what I hold sometime

Or the many stick with me and it ain't to open or close the blinds

I get to thinkin' 'bout the people I lost the last two years and my head start spinnin'

And then lead start spittin'

And hell nah, I ain't puttin' this gun down, Smack!

That nigga [?] trippin'

Nigga, you will end up D-E-A-D—test me!

Even my bitch'll let a [?]—Lesley!

I call my shooter like, "Bump and run. Press him!"

That one nigga'll take care-a that whole house—Jeffrey!

Nigga, I'm a different typa dude

I got kids by sisters, nigga; I'm a different typa rude

This gun the same one DNA used to have: it's a different typa tool

One hit from this SIG and you will die; it's a different typa cool

Nigga, I keep lotsa artillery cuh nigga do too damn much

Shots'll hit his T like boo-boo-bah-buh!

Fuck around and my niggas'll shoot yo' van up

I call my shooter Westbrook cuh the nigga shoot too damn much

I blast cans

I don't give a fuck if you takin' out ya trash can

So I caught him in the club with his Js on; that was his last dance

Man, niggas don't put in work like Squeak

Or hurt the streets and get work for cheap

Or [?] jail niggas and throw cigarettes to the work release

Cheese Town

[Round 1: Dot]

I push a button... on gang, the homies gon' slide

This shit? Suicide

Bullets strike him; he was hit by a lil' UZI

On my momma, he was rocked between his eyes

Nigga, you said you shot somethin'? I don't like to be lied to

Pistol-whip you till they can't recognize you

Reach, I dare you

I'll follow yo' trail, blaze you

Tre to yo' head; they thought Carmelo shot you

I could get you changed; whoever you wit' can die, too

Bandana on a Glock; that mean it bang, too

You cold but I'm COVID: keep six feet from me

Bullet feel like a vaccine shot

That mean a shot from the arm could clean a body

I do this for the family

I get paid a lot to reach a lot

I wait till he reach the lot

Duct tape on a Ruger; y'all gon' hear the gun go off in a parkin' lot

I couldn't wait to put you on the windshield like a Uber; peep the plot

I park you while you was parkin' in ya parkin' spot

Ain't nothin' 'bout this nice

Like a chalkboard, all I see is green and white

Two burners at the same time—beans and rice!

You reach, I teach

I keep the trap boarded so no one peeks

They won't find ya for weeks

Stick a knife in you... then twist the handle... like when you hear the door squeak

I'm 'bout to tweak

I can make that reach more potent

Handle twist then the gun-butt like a cracked door

Y'all gon' find Squeak's head slightly open

It's my turn

I got a pound that could cover the forearm like a Indian burn

If the family feud, I solve problems; just gimme the word

A noun, that thing placed on a person but swerve

If y'all wanted this bitch to win, y'all shoulda gave him to Verb

Trappin' ain't dead; you niggas just scared

A day wit' me in the bando, nigga; you had to be there

Boil the water, let the drop sit

Benihana's: we whipped it and served it right there

We had the spot fulla tweakers, walkers

It looked like World War Z but after twelve, we call it Dawn of the Dead in here

Yeah! I can't go back to steel bunks and deflated matts

Smack, it's a manslaughter charge if that [?] kid bring a zombie back

Forty heavy and loud; shit came wit' a boom

Red dot, face shot out the scope; remind you of the app Zoom

Run in yo' spot and start eavesdroppin' wit' the tool

That mean I'll air it out: you can hear the body drop from across the room

Who put you in this plateau?

Now, I got a solid Squeak like a rat toe

You feelin' froggy? Leap, get hit wit' a tadpole

I keep six and one nine... chk-chk—Rey Mysterio!

This a scary scenario

Whatever you wanna do, we could do

I drop classics and I could drop a corpse, too

I got a homie; he been gorilla

He call me Tarzan 'cause I ain't one but I be in Gorilla Mode, too

I'm not lyin', king

If it's any monkey business, I might pull up wit' the stick like Zazu

It's a reach 'cause I'm asked to

I said "Zazu"!

'Cause if I shoot you on toppa yo' hat, it's 'cause I had a birds-eye view

Dot!

[Round 2: Squeako]

Ayy, y'all wanna know why I don't battle a lot?

'Cause I listen to the vets

That shit took me from losin' in the Ultimate Madness tournament straight to Super Fight on Caffeine

I gotta give 'em they respect

But, shit, don't get mad at me 'cause I slipped up and Mook out here fuckin' up classics

I learnt that from y'all

And as far as me chokin' vers' Your Honor in the third round?

Shit, I learnt that from Charles!

Nigga, it's Mr. Pull Out Twenty-Five Thousand In The Tournament

Yeah, nigga! I get stupid cash

And niggas only like you when you say, "Dot!" and, "Blaow! Blaow!

Blaow! Blaow! Chk-chk-chk!"—nigga, you stupid trash!

Smack only book you 'cause you entertainin' and bring views

He use yo' ass!

Basically, we be laughin' at you and not wit' you

Haha! Yo' stupid ass!

You know why I don't fuck witchu, nigga?

'Cause you from the same place Tekashi from

And you only did two years for the same shit my nigga killer doin' twelve for

You probably did what Tekashi done

You either dug up Johnnie Cochran or got a lawyer that's eager to win

'Cause you just posted two weeks ago, "I got court today!" and then beat it again

But you let Dot tell it, he out here bakin' kis

You fakin', Gs

That shit make believe

All this money you rap about and now he fightin' wit' court-appointed lawyers and takin' pleas

You know how I know you a nickel-and-dime nigga? 'Cause you bread ain't big enough

And you only did a couple-a years and the feds ain't pick it up

See, you the typa nigga that ride around witchya guns, money, and drugs

Get pulled over and police find all ya shit

I got a shawty that's a CNA wit' good credit that stay in a gated community

Police won't find all my shit

Ayy, long live my nigga [?]; he own a heatin' business

He only hustle that night— {chokes}

[Round 2: Dot]

This is it, I'm alert, punch nice with the hand speed

Central nerves is stimulated; I must be on Caffeine

Squeako, I really ain't worried 'bout you, boy

Like, I'll pay a bitch to bite Squeak like a chew toy

What, you ain't like that bar?

I'll give you somethin' remember

Headshot! Now, Squeak all over the floor

That's Kyrie crossin' a defender

Is it Squeak or Squeako? I really don't give a fuck

What do a deep freezer lid and a twelve gauge have in common?

I bet I get a squeak if I lift it up

It'll be shells surroundin' a nigga body—is this nigga nuts?

Shine, I know you in yo' bag but I'ma zip him up

It is up!

That's why I call this Ol' Faithful: bet this bitch erupt

Sometime, I think this bitch is unfaithful—yeah, she gettin' ducked!

If I'm triggered and my triggers [?]

I'm clutchin' then a nigga clutch

That mean I'm takin' every last shot like we gettin' drunk

So bottoms up

That's a gun butt

Get a crackhead in a dumb spot

Never been one, never will be but I'll smoke Roc

All them gun bars? King, big cap, that's slight like the old Roc

Smack, gimme a band and a name and I forget I know Roc

Speakin'-a rock, I ain't got no [?] bars but this dude a bitch

This where your heart break, kid

Shawn Michaels wit' the Glock

That mean I'm comin' off the buckle wit' somethin' that got a super kick

I'll catch a body comin' off the hip like a Judo flip

He like, "What that mean?" Grab the arm, bring it around, then drop the body wit' it

Enough with the name-flips

You was prob'ly that one kid on the playground who never got picked

Slow down, stop runnin' durin' tag, got passed and you still ain't it

See, me? I drop classic after classic after classic

You? I can't name one person in yo' class—shit!

I got T-Top, Saga, Pres, Chess, Brizz—

Smack, who the fuck is this?

I woulda gladly took Myers

That coulda been fire

Switchblades like Marvel... swoop, swoop

Sound like I'm fuckin' a lighter!

I'm a rider, not a passenger; it's a difference when I talk guns

Whether I load it or shoot it, I'm puttin' shells in a shotgun

And I got one!

Big T, I see you gettin' fit, T

But I wonder, if I kill you, could they fit you on a big T?

Geechi, I got shooters like Gotti screamin', "Fuck y'all!"

Ready to hit every fuckin' bar like a pub crawl

I'm on y'all!

Momma, sister, brother, father—I'll serve y'all!

And I won't pay a fuckin' bill till this shit turn off!

I should rob y'all!

If anything drew in my space jam then I'm cuttin' somethin'

I'm like Jordan: if I reach wit' the arm then I'm duckin' somethin'

'Cause I'm vicious

If I lift it, be cautious

This is an act of [?]

I'll pull it if I got it; I'm too malicious

I look suspicious, broad day

Diggin' up yo' grave, poke yo' chest wit' a ice pick

I'll put ya heart on ice—Rod Wave!

Dot!

[Round 3: Squeako]

I don't rap like none-a these niggas from the new era

I get skraight to the point and talk my shit

So wit' that bein' said, I'ma get skraight to the point and talk my shit

And when I first start hustlin', you know how long it took for me just to get eight dollars up?

I'm talkin' stayin' on the block longer than a Bigg K follower

Yeah, I run the streets, nigga—I can't help it; I enjoy this shit

I know a nigga that never, ever had a job and got rich offa unemployment

Shoutout to my PUA niggas; I missed out on it but ain't need no hammers

I'm talkin' more stolen social security numbers than Don Marino family

You see, y'all think shit funny

But pops was a addict and I had it so I sold it to him just to make sure moms could get the rent money

But pops clean now; that's somethin' I had to do, I ain't like to do it

Nigga, I sold a fiend so much crack, he ran outta lighter fluid

But before all that, I was hurtin' and had to do shit crooked for it

Nigga, I was so broke, I had a dream about money and then woke up lookin' for it

See, you the typa nigga that'll change for a dollar

But I really had to go to the store and buy somethin' wit' a food stamp just to get change for a dollar

Nigga, I did shit 'cause I had to

Hood nigga; I want all of my French fries—yeah, nigga! The ones in the bag, too!

But times change; I'm talkin' whole thangs—nigga, we don't do Os no mo'!

So much in-and-out traffic in the trap, the do' don't even close no mo'

I know a nigga erry time his phone ring, it's a brick a sale

But it's crazy 'cause I know another nigga who got sickle cell

Nah, nah! Not the disease! The nigga gettin' locked up so much, he got sicka cells

And I got another nigga that put me onto Bitcoin; he get lotsa cheddar

And Goodz always talkin' 'bout puttin' ya money in a bank account; nigga, stocks is better

You know why I don't like y'all battle rap niggas? 'Cause we ain't never did a bid together

And ain't nown one-a y'all ever fucked two sisters that used to live together

But, see, I blame it on my plast 'cause ain't had no luck wit' me

Shit was rough wit' me

Ain't no [?], Dot

I tried Christianity but felt like God ain't fuck wit' me

And I could never be a Muslim 'cause I sin too much and five prayers ain't enough wit' me

You the only nigga in yo' class that ain't had a big game yet

He like, "What that mean?" Nigga, you been on URL seven years and you ain't had a big name yet

Ayy, Caffeine, let a nigga get a deal—shit, errybody got the same content anyway!

I could say the same, too

And errybody don't do nothin' but play Call of Duty all day

Shit, I could play the game, too!

Cheese Town

[Round 3: Dot]

I had three weeks to write this

They say pressure make diamonds and I'm shinin'

No matter where he at, I'ma find him wit' a new pistol

Bullet go through the gristle

Long clip

The butt stick out the magazine; this a straight stuntin' issue

It's simple

I got the trap jumpin' off a sample stimulus check

That mean you can catch the bucks and everybody that's dependent on you

I spin through wit' three other niggas

Might have the bitch to do you

She the shooter, single baby mother, a rower

She runnin' 'round wit' a wig and two baby nines and a stroller

I could take a gun apart then put it back together

Y'all gon' watch the gun fold up like a Motorola

It'll be [?] on a can

'90s commercial, always Coca-Cola

Everything is not what it seems, nigga!

This ain't YouTube! In person, I reach quicker

Like a slave auction: on a block, I'm just a different nigga

Shells are copper; I'm a penny-pincher

Stingy nigga

Revolver burnin' a hole in my pocket; I gotta spin it, nigga!

That's a penny for yo' thoughts

Did one sit to yo' head

I got a job but the gun fire on my day off... like Craig!

That's why I said God is the only man I fear

I bleed what you bleed, I see what you see

Don't let yo' eyes be deceived

Chest shot; now, it's blood on the arm

That's what it means to wear emotions on a sleeve

I respect yo' shit, OG

But it be real niggas like you and I that be the first to die

Is it 'cause our ego and pride or Twitter fingers?

Tweet a diss about me and I'ma send a bird as my reply

Last thing he seen was Dot wit' a stick like a lowercase I

No cap, these niggas mad 'cause I came home and ran laps

Chrome strap; get the dome slapped

Try to survive that!

Smack! New era?

If you need any Ws, I'll send him to the ER ASAP!

Top tier? What the fuck is a top-tier?

I just did a bid on a top tier

I shed blood and sweat and I ain't never dropped tears

Niggas y'all consider top-tier givin' Dot chairs

That's when I became top-tier

And when they let me go was the only time I left the top tier

I caught a movin' fuse and I ain't never battle a top-tier

Smack, that's top-tier

I was top-tier before I got here

These niggas ain't top-tier

I'm a Dot-tier

It stops here

Smack, I need to know why a top-tier is not here!

I just had to plead out, that's real shit

They wanted me to snitch

I ain't really into bodybuildin' but I learned how to exercise my right to plead the fifth

See, I know real dope boys that ain't never touch a thousand grams go in a fed buildin' and shit bricks

You struggled, nigga? You had to get it out the mud?

I know, we get it—me too!

Except I was adopted

See, at six months, she was rippin' and runnin'

Did I mention my mom was a addict?

Shit was hard

We got snatched by child services

Growin' up, when Momma got indicted, shit was fine

I think about in my mind

Shoutout to my foster mom

I learned how to take in and raise a nine that ain't mine

Shots to yo' spine! You won't be the same after!

Or I could snap yo' neck—chiropractor!

Sawed-off, two big grams—sumo wrestler!

Battery in my back; I don't need the gas... like a Tesla!

Dot!