[Round 1: Math Hoffa]

You make the worst life decisions

I've been wantin' to do this for so long

You a virus in battle rap and I can't let you go on

You steal bars, you stole Jones, you stole Hollow, you stole Con's

You stole Dose's, even Soul Khan, the list goes on!

But that's five cats, I'ma stop at 5 cats, nigga hold on

You took five cats and put them together

Well that's actually kinda clever, 'cause now I understand why your punches are all bites: you think you're Voltron

Now there's two things about you that make you the worst kind of lame

So I'll combine the two and make a multiple choice on why you stole Hollow's name

Is it (A) You was suckin' dick and tryna get a buzz?

(B) You was suckin' dick and tryna get a buzz?

(C) You was suckin' dick and tryna get a buzz?

But we know the answer is (D) All of the above

Now, you steal every fuckin' battle

So don't tell me to switch the topic

On behalf of all the battle rappers here, you need to stop it

When we rhymin' and you come around you know what we do?

"Ayo it's John John, watch it, watch it, watch it, watch it!"

When you leave we slam the door, lock it

And check if you picked our pockets

Look you doin' this for profit

If you gonna take a bar from a nigga at least buy him a drink after you swap it

But this gonna be your first battle not stealin', you need a dropkick

'Cause if you ever had some hot shit

Then you wouldn't have--

Wait a minute, you about to try flip some of my shit!

Well I'ma do it before you can do it, nigga watch this

"They say the eyes are the window to each soul

In your eyes I can see you climbin' through windows to steal flows

Bars! I hit the side of your grill, you will doze

Wake swole with your eyes sealed closed from steel toes

I'm a veteran with a thirst for beheadin' these lil' hoes

My [?] among the legends, my measurements still grows

John John can't see me in the ring: I'm Bilbo

Baggin' these motherfuckers before they can feel cold

It's Hoffa! Everybody know that Hoffa's the realest

Everybody know I solidify my spot with guerrillas

But you a faggot rapper, battlin' for the spot where the deal is

You solidify your spot in the village, suckin' cock with them niggas!

[?] DNA's bars I see, mi bars son ahí

So try not to fall asleep, you know his bars tight whack

And I'll be here second round to bring the bars right back

Hoffa!

[Round 1: John John Da Don]

You ready for some real bars now?

Math Hoffa, NYB—that's what you rep right?

Me? I ain't nothin' but pussy, that's what you said right?

And you pop off at any sign of disrespect right?

Fuck you! Suck my dick! Pussy let's fight!

Bully who? Do I look like Dose to you?

Speakin' of Dose and you, right now you owe it to

Fuck how you swung when he got too close to you

'Cause I'm a real nigga, you just did what you was 'sposed to do

I ain't Dose, try me if you want

If you want to play ground you can swing if you want

Get a halo and a fresh pair of wings if you want

A one-way ticket to see B.I.G. if you want

All I see is a punk, he get live on the stage

I'll yoke him with the burner like I'm fryin' the egg

Then put the clippers to his temple like I'm linin' his fade

Grab the stock and cap his ass like he's tryna get waved

I'll slide the gauge in his mouth, down this nigga's throat

To show Goodz I don't need Earl to make a nigga choke

Y'all gon think he's signed to Eminem when I grip the toast

Watch him get shady after Math get in the scope

Math, you know that Yonkers bitch that you been in them flicks with

I ain't gonna say no names for three reasons

(1) That's some snitch shit

(2) She happens to be somebody I'm still friends with; and

(3) When I get back to Yonkers I want my dick licked

The bitch blew my whole gang so we call her Tookie

She don't let me port no more then I'ma off her coofy

Dumb aim so I got a gun game like Call of Duty

These clips got my Smith & Wes cravin' to shoot the horror movie

These clips, Wes Craven, horror movie?

But these clips don't need no subtitles, it ain't a foreign movie

These clips will put this dick in a box like a porno movie

These clips will be releasin' on demand like an ordered movie!

No more battles for you, this was your last cheque

Now it's time to see you in hell so take your last breath

Thinkin' I'm an all of the above, well that's a bad guess

'Cause I don't need a multiple choice to pass a math test

Bars!

[Round 2: Math Hoffa]

He said some shit about Dose and he ain't Dose, dead it

You see why these niggas get no credit?

Nigga said he "ain't Dose, try me"

But turned his hat backwards when he said it

That shit corny! But you a thief

You even stole Goodz' chipmunk cheeks!

It's body time, nigga, this gon' read

This my 6th battle this year, guess you can say I made my mind up

School of Hoffa, nigga sign up and step your fuckin' grind up

I got these battle rappers like oh damn, Math movin' like Conan

Four heads in one month? Jesus! in a row man?

This battle gon' be the same: Jesus and the Romans

No bitches in my crew, we Al Bundy and NO MA'AM

I'll clap you with both hands, chop you in the neck

Backfist make you backflip then rock you in the chest

I'll dose you, but I don't gotta drop you for respect

I'll catch you on your block late night, pop you in the neck!

You dead, brother, now R.I.P. to all the lost niggas

That watched gangster flicks and imitated all of the mob figures

But in the mob you gotta get permission to off niggas

And this Don is not lucky, so we can't even cross fingers

Bars! But John think he the Baptist and Hollow's the God

You wear his name, spread his word, he's your idol, your lord

But Hollow don't fuck with you unless you bible in blogs

Or Jew dustheads and can't tell that this disciple's a fraud

We don't like you, John! You need to leave this scene

I'm nice, I don't even need to be this mean

For murder I come loaded with three clips, beams

That'll shine, I spot your tee I'ma leave shit clean

That's 48 shots that'll make me see ribs, spleens

They asked why son died, I told 'em I gave John 3:16

You don't got bars like that, man!

Yo, your family will never stop mournin' like Regis

It seems ever since I battled Verb, what's up Smack?

Why these lame niggas is all I see?

I'ma start blockin' you and Beas on my call ID

I mean y'all coulda gave me Surf, he got bars like me

But every time I face a Crip you see a R.I.P.

You don't got bars like that!

Nigga said I don't got bars, fuck outta here, them niggas lyin'

Sometime I spit punches so deep y'all don't get the rhyme

But if I tell a motherfuckin' joke you gon' get it fine

Either way I kill a crowd like Boston when I finish lines

This nigga's dyin', oh

[Round 2: John John Da Don]

You got a lot of jokes, but where the fuck is your bars Math?

Joke all you want, that's exactly what you are Math

You ain't no "G" as in gangsta with your fraud ass

It's more like G-ometry 'cause you ain't hard Math

And I know my geometry really well

Like he can have a-cute round written, but he still will fail

'Cause if I fail his 90 degrees then I'ma give him Hell

'Cause even if he takes the right angles it's still an L

Bars! Fuck how you grew up in Brooklyn, bogart on blocks

How you use to rob niggas or what you used to charge for rocks

You better switch it up before the rest of your stock market drop

'Cause all they really care about is if you came with bars or not

So no old stories about how you used to chop work

You ex-security guard, that's what he mean he used to cop work

We line up like the tip agency if you got work

And the second I send my men it's ours, that's how we clockwork

Seconds, minutes, hours—you get your work clocked

I might have to rewind this shit

If you don't know what time it is off the first watch

Bars! Bars! I burst shots to get him laid in a coffin

You don't need an alarm clock to get a wake in the mournin'

I'm A1 when it's beef X steak I'm on it

You'll get killed in this bitch like baby abortions

I'm a student in this game, I know my math of course

So let this be the classroom where Math gets taught

I'll add bullets, divide his head to subtract his thoughts

But I don't need a blackboard to put Math in chalk

I can get you stabbed with hawks or pop off 4's

This gauge MJ: got a chopped-off nose

And blow his shirts off back and his socks off toes

Like it's from Canal Street the way it knock-off clothes

A million views in, I'm a motherfuckin' vet now

These old niggas suck, I'm the motherfuckin' best now

Feelin' disrespected? There's no need to get upset now

'Cause I'm about to make this bully look pussy in my next round

[Round 3: Math Hoffa]

You said you spit gun lines

Because your fans prefer them types of punch lines

I spit gun lines 'cause I really play with the heat

No LeBron references. I was raised in the street

You wasn't, so if you got gun lines don't say 'em to me

'Cause you pussy, you wear glasses and your last name is McGee

MCGEE!

You know how you sound to a nigga that seen shorty shot and slain?

Everything go downhill 'cause in real life that 40 Glock is not a game

When Joe said he had to tell his mother that her son died, I lived that

Back when them bitch niggas killed Black and that's a real fact

When I battle you niggas, inside I know I make you feel whack

'Cause my metaphors be hittin' harder than they real raps

And my real raps'll leave your whole character peeled back

If you trill and you really that character, steal that

But you want us to believe that you out in the world thuggin'

But when Bow Wow had a problem with Cat Stacks

He called you niggas up like you was girl cousins

Y'all niggas beat up btiches? Yo son, that ain't a trill route

You got a brother called Bart, right? Tell that nigga to chill out

We should call you Lisa 'cause you don't own nothin' you spill out

But since you wear glasses and follow Bart, I'll pull the steel out

Leave your wig blew, now your crew can call you Milhouse!

Y'ALL NIGGAS BEAT UP BITCHES?!

Y'all some big bitch-ass niggas!

When Young [?] was fuckin' up your brother car

Why you not jump out and get that nigga?

I heard [?] got hit up though, but you wasn't with that nigga

'Cause you bitch-ass niggas ain't the get back niggas

You the "get back" niggas!

But while your bitch ass is out there slammin' hoes

I'ma need you to be clever

Bow Wow ain't gonna fuck with you for long, your team's severed

I mean you lost to K Shine, you lost to 106, he's seen better

Plus we know Bow Wow ain't gonna stick around if he see errors

Yo, fuck this nigga man, yo Smack, you wrong

Beasley, sometimes I wanna close my hand and smack you wrong

But I'd never do that 'cause y'all my niggas

But I didn't wanna battle John

But now I gotta thank you for him

And I'll tell you why I had a change of plans

See honestly food for thought, I thought you was a plate of spam

But the way you be promotin' other niggas bars that's amazin' man

You see eatin' John John is really healthy, 'cause he like Raisin Brans

DNA's bars I see, mi bars son ahí

Hoffa!

[Round 3: John John]

Definition of a bully: somebody who uses power to harm someone that's weaker

Now, would you mind if I be the public speaker?

On some real stuff he runnin' round swingin' on lil' niggas so he feel tough

But please don't believe his fake ass 'cause he real butt

Dose was too small and you know that, nigga

You ain't tough and Suge just exposed that, nigga

When he hit your hat and called you a ho-ass nigga

But you a bully, Math, why you ain't dose that nigga?

All you said was "what you call me?"

Pussy, he called you a ho-ass nigga

And what you do? Stand there like a ho-ass nigga

If that was me, then I woulda seen me fold that nigga

And give Shotgun shells to reload that nigga

You tried to bully Arsonal, it ain't look like it work

You tried to bully Pat Stay, it ain't look like it work

You tried to bully Hitman, it ain't look like it work

Now even though you snuffed Dose it ain't look like it hurt

For what it's worth, bet the bread that they gave you

You get too close I'll give you the toast and the cake too

That biscuit gon' cook and leave his muffin on the table

A headshot'll turn his butter roll to a bagel

With the burner he gon' see these (what's that?) rounds comin' out

I'll raid worms at his apple (what's that?) rounds for a scalp

I can give his men toast (what's that?) rounds for his mouth

And everybody gets a shot (what's that?) rounds on the house

Nigga, you ain't got bars like that

Stop rappin' 'bout guns, you ain't hard like that

Pay attention, I just said he ain't got bars like that

Now spell it out 'cause he ain't B with ARs like that

You came with jokes but I'm not playin' tonight

You wanna keep it all rap, bitch, I came for a fight

So please don't say the John if you ain't sayin' it twice

And if you don't add the Don you ain't sayin' it right

Goodnight