[Round 1: Ave]

Nitty, tonight, I’d advise there be no horseplayin', bring your best

This was a fresh move, for you still an L, ‘cause I ain’t Chess

They say my style placed me top of the rookies

Well, I feel like Trey in the crib

‘Cause punchin' with tiers finally got me this pussy

Nitty, what’s goodie?

Fuck that! You brought your block for support?

‘Cause I could tell these niggas not what you thought

The first Quarter with the problem gettin' dropped

But if the Glock the resort

You’ll hear shots poppin' in Quads, think Pac in New York

See, quarters is quads, the same place where niggas set it on Pac

Nigga, you’re just a stepping stone to get me on top

But apparently, bein' drugged is your plot, y’all think not

He was fiendin' to be on Smack, now he beggin' for Roc

But they sent me to put the chalk to him

So if I am legend, then watch how I wash dog while I talk to him

Just ‘cause the Poet mark you a genius

That don’t mean you on point, son

'Cause you on Kevin Johnson in Phoenix!

I get to sparkin' these ninas

Well, you’ll be Denzel in He Got Game

Go from the box to you talkin' with Jesus

See, y’all the reason niggas thinkin' they tough

‘Cause reppin' that 4th Quarter only mean shit'll change for a buck

Wait, hold up, see all this Crip shit you spit out your mouth

Don’t mean nothin' when my niggas in route

He’ll white flag once my clique at his house

That’s where you see these niggas in living color

‘Cause after the first clip the bitches come out

I mean, these 4th Quarter niggas ain’t hard, they’re scared for ya

As soon as you fired on they off: go Craig on ya

Or I’ll rob you ‘til your bread shorter

Put that drum stick to your thigh

You either come off the chicken or lose a leg, Quarter

But you ain’t in the streets at all, you bum

Your heart not strong enough to run that base: you John Q son

You strapped up? Well, I’m armed too, chump, the war started

Fuck your vest, let it scream on caps: I’m Troy Martin

Pardon, no sparkin', gun butt with the mean grip

The serial smack his face like he ridin' with Queenzflip

‘Cause we ain’t slip with straps, what’s cookin'?

I’m on my Voletta Wallace

I brought that big poppa back through Brooklyn

So fuck Rum! Besides, I be drinkin' on that Henny

It won’t mean shit to leave him stinkin' from the semi

But they gassed him up thinkin' he gon’ hit me

But he don’t want to be the one sent to face the right: that’s Lincoln on the penny

And I still got the weapons to end it

So you can go from the right to bare arms like the Second Amendment

I extended the sweetest piece

So if Beas' need this West Coast nigga dead by 30

I’ll make it easy, E

He ain’t beatin' me, nor none of these fuckin' faggots

If you got rage to come after Ave, just don’t be average

See, you talkin' it like you straight killers

Soon as he hook, put money on, they book, like it’s JPay, nigga

I don’t care if you Crip bang, bitch

One shot will finish this 4th Quarter in Phoenix

I don’t bull in the game, 6

Y’all pump packs and shit…wait, backtrack

4th quarter, Phoenix – that Game 6 shot was Paxson, bitch!

I stash that fifth, and beat the foul out ya

Then point it at the back of your head: that’s Alfalfa

It ain’t nothin' tough ‘bout ya, see, I stay fight ready

And I off the nigga cap: that’s CakeLyfe Prezzy

(Shout out to WeGoHard)

How he gon’ check me? Y’all gassin' this nigga like he go so hard

That’s with the scam in on a card, you’re like a ZoGuard

But you ain’t gettin' real dough, nigga

Nobody on foot ball between bars but a field goal kicker

I fear no nigga, so let him be stupid to prove he truly swing

Put a clear round in this pussy: my shooters NuvaRing

Fuck who he bring, ‘cause if they cross them trenches

He the first down, soon as he get the fourth and inches

Wait, but you Writer’s Bloque, right?

Well, where the fuck them clowns when you need them?

Soon as J see the big cannon, the rounds gon’ delete him

But Danny get the shotty right in his mouth, when I see him

Think Yo Gotti, ‘cause soon as it goes down, end of DM

And since Magic want to know who’s a new killer

Yeah, I know the answer

Ayy, I can reenact how you shoot and step over Lou niggas

So fuck what this clown come spit

‘Cause when I’m smokin' the 4th Quarter

That only mean he down 1-zip – time, man!

[Round 1: Rum Nitty]

We got Rum Nitty versus Ave

Damn, Smack got me movin' backwards

You don’t see that I’m the truth?

It’s like I dropped a tier to give you this shot: I’m Nino on the roof

Don’t leave out the venue, I see niggas squeezin' out the coupe

My white boy from Queens said

“Soon as you done: leave, he finna shoot.”

They brought the best to him, and they bet

Norbes and Myers put papers down for this shit: public restrooms

I’ll fuck your bitch pussy with the 9 barrel, Nitty trippin'

Make sure your girl’s tore with the mill', like Drizzy dissin'

Then he gets it, if I forget the mittens

I’ll slide through with two socks on the Tom: that’s Risky Business

Or he’ll get the blade, stick it in your temple, twist it

Pull it out, and run it back in your head like you’re reminiscin'

The punch crazy

But the set-up get caught later like Jimmy Henchman

I’m dope, nigga

I’ll OD in this bitch if I come out the coat with it

Then mark you out before the chest shot: Pulp Fiction

If I whip the piece, your family fucked

Headshot your mom's sister

They gon’ have to M-O-P your aunty up

Handle what? Niggas dyin'

You’ll see a flash from behind when the milli light him

That was fire, comin' from the background like Gwitty hypin'

Lift the iron, I’ll let a dummy go off the top, like 50 Tyson

But they say you’re washin' me

I say, “Cool, cut the check

Then he’s who I’ma air out next," like a tracheotomy

Don’t lie to me, ‘cause I’ll be at your crib knockin'

With a big fifth, that bitch shining

Catch what the nickel send through the door, nigga, here’s Johnny!

Something fat and (in) a little colt (coat), it be a big body

Catch the Tommy, Boy, and rip your back like Chris Farley

If I raise, shit sparkin'

I let that bitch go “blaka,” (block her) nigga… like he Facebook stalkin'

Or I’ll be at your door and all

The whole house'll rest, ‘cause that shit you on ain’t cool

You took it too far, now I’m goin' off

I know he soft

From the jump I get it in, so many men die when the coin toss

Nah, I got a hundred in the drum to get busy with

He try to run, guess whose back gettin' 50 sent in?

I lock and load, ridin' out with the squad for sure

I get it jumpin' for the Quarter off top, nigga, I’m the GOAT

Fuckin' maricón!

Two shots leave Roc laid on Ave, it look like cobblestone

You copy, holmes? One from the can’ pop at him

I let it fly, it will break up Ave like Hancock landin'

What your hands like, family?

You’ll get your chin broken

Right left, left right, you’ll get clocked back and forth like hypnosis

I’m a .40-sparker

I’ll let it wet across your forehead like holy water

He known for talkin' – me, I’ll lift it and squeeze

He try to dip, then this shit erase a back

Like when your earring’s missin' a piece

Gun Line King, I used to let the can go daily

Beam on it, I inf a mil and catch you with the semi lackin'

That’s what the can for, baby

We don’t keep it cool; real life shit, I keep a tool

Pull and squeeze and shoot

Let ten open up on his face like peek-a-boo

He done joined the Cave

So now he think he royal every time he come around, right?

Well, I’ll give you kings ten, Ave, head shot, lift your crown heights

I’ll run inside, lace the crib

Shootin' over the table, shit, take his ribs

Bet five racks I won’t miss this trash nigga, I’m Money Making Mitch

Real shit, you can’t keep it real yourself

Nigga, suicide or I’ll do the job, you decide… (Kill yourself!)

[Round 2: Ave]

Hottest in the city, they heard that I’m really poppin'

I’m good on every block, I ain’t gotta be milly rockin'

Ave nice, and the last dude that doubt that, nigga

Died fuckin' with the boss: he went out like Blizzard

You’ll get the picture, I was plannin' to kill you in the future

They wanted to see the king this March: I’m Martin Luther

You’re just hyped-up when you matter

But now that I get at him

Even they see you bodied, bitch, that ain’t bitin' in the Apple

I’ma snap him, take it past rap, I bet I’ll leave him there

Soon as I eyeball a Quarter like I don’t need a scale

Tell your people bail, ‘cause I won’t even speak

Just “shh,” aim on a nigga, then I OD B

He ain’t gotta get the Glock, goddamn it

Nigga, he’ll be socked up, like when you give a back shot standin'

I could handle him with a mean right; but on the other hand

A pump can light up the face like Halloween night

‘Cause they just seem hype

You know, clown face, sound brave

Throw their fours up like they’re wild, that’s what wild rage

That shit for the crowd, ace, bet if we scrap

Y’all gon’ see his troops jet in the back: that’s Colonel Guile stage

That’s child play, the Internet diggin' this fuckin' clown

You think you Pac? Well, try to be digital underground

‘Cause can’t no dummy play me

My lil dog be goin' bananas, kickin' cans

Even my puppy monkey, baby

But I ain’t get patted down, I’m concealin' the Smith 'N'

So watch your lips whenever a real nigga spittin'

I go to kickin' my rounds and hear these clowns

And get the feeling they trippin'

I dump the .40 while I’m cookin': that’s Steel in the kitchen

You see the difference? With punches I’m an animal, duke

Even handle you with the hands? ‘Cause these zoo landers too

See, I can beat this geek up, or with this stick

Cap around on the eye, then shell his body like he Mr. Peanut

Y’all got me fucked up

What, y’all don’t think that we hold lead?

I kick up in his spot, that Glock to his forehead

He don’t open up that box for the bread

Then what he face even uglier if locks get cut: that’s O-Red

Then I’m Swayze when that shotty through spittin'

‘Cause as soon as you see this bitch run up on me

Watch the body get lifted – who wanna dirty dance?

30 in the can sparkin'

25 in the 4th Quarter, like Reggie in the Garden

But you don’t wanna lose your life right here

You’ll end up with a light pop at head: now that’s a bright idea

My nigga Law told me, "Punch out silly, Rum on a roll!"

Well, I’m in it, Ty, I doubt it if this bird out-spit me

See, he ain’t even peep that word out, did he?

I said "In it, Ty," put that together, I ain’t worried 'bout Nitty

‘Cause Cornell’s not a shotter

I flesh Corn, and your shit, you’ll pass but you won’t die just proper

I’ll get him popped up, matter of fact, nah, I’ll kill his ass

Dome shot, head hit his shoulder, look like the Thriller dance

See, I can give him jabs, ‘cause the left done left a lot shook

Or a hole around in the neck, look what the shot put

That Glock cook, but the rifle round is madness

I’ll touch through the lens: that’s Calvin glasses

Or I’ll catch him with his folks hangin', close-rangin', low-aimin'

Both bangers ringin' together, look like I’m rope swingin'

Bro thinks I’m jokin', but I’ll smoke him on the scene

Two grips rippin' his shirt: he Hogan in the ring

Fuck you mean? You know we talk that slick talk, that stick talk

Bullet in his shoe if he move, now tell this Crip walk

[Round 2: Rum Nitty]

So you’re in Roc family, right? Well, that shit fake

I’ll whip a big blade, it’s about one foot, it’s for your kin, Tay

Get slayed, stand over the body with the stick waived

You’re number 2 in the city, you’re used to bein' under a big K

I’m straight to it, I’ll be goin' for blood from the jump

Radio Raheem rings: I don’t show a hater love when I punch

Get your mug pushed in, jump and let a slug cook him

Ironic how I’m gonna destroy Ave but I love Brooklyn

Way different, just expect I’ma shoot you

You press my buttons, soon as I see money I’ma pull out

Does this register to you?

You thinkin' I’ma get killed, that’s grimy

‘Cause what I kick give you three clear rounds to the side

Like an Air Max 90

I’m finna have a blueprint to kill this geek if this works out

Oh, y’all ain’t peep Verb versus SB?

I started off with the remedy in the first round

I let it ring, if he survive your man in surgery next

He come back and get the second ring

Or visit your city with the matics poppin', and I’m robbin'

Tryin' to get rid of your house in Virginia like Magic Johnson

I’ll clap an artist, good shot, that’s a marksman

Pull a bow and put an arrow in his face: Ave a target

I send my young niggas dumpin' out the steel

They get one off – BAH!

The first pop warn a nigga how the youngins in the field

I got a clip full of hollows for whoever talk

I’ll leave four of these bitches smokin' on your roof like Set It Off

No matter a vet or a rookie

‘Cause I’ve been lettin' loose ever since I came out, baby

But the key goes to flex on a pussy

Get pistol whipped with the MAC: I’ll Big Pun a bitch

So if this guy goes upside your head, it’s capital punishment

Suck a dick! I’m known to smoke bitches

I’ll make a nice nigga hang it up, literally

You missed the punch, that means I’ll rope a dope nigga

Got an aim slanted when I hold the four spittin'

Sideways, I’ll peel out a round on Ave, like I’m Tokyo driftin'

Behind these bars, he’s goin' through some shit: Shawshank escape

I get it poppin', pet adoption: I’ll put dog in his place

I give a fuck if a nigga big, I’ll be all in his space

You can be Tyson cut, don’t mean you want parts in the fade

But y’all call it shakin', right? Cool, I got you a little later

The nina kill him, two of these'll peel him

I’ll black and let it fly in his face like Feed the Children

You type done, you’ll lose all train of thought when the 9 dump

A head shot will make him blank it out like Mike's son

I’ll light one, you make a move, you’ll get done dirty

The DE take off sides if you jump early

But niggas stay talkin', remain calm or the blade on him

Then I run it across Ave like I’m jaywalkin'

Tez on Twitter actin' like he wanna smoke – okay, partner

If the fifth in the shorts

Then I’m whippin' it on Cort' like James Harden

I’ll straight box him, he say somethin' crazy I’ma swing

2K free throw, soon as he get to the line

We get it shakin' on the screen

Don’t try to scam me, I got nice hands and somethin' nice handy

And I’ll pop a round in your life like a white family

KG threw me the extra magazine

Like, “You might wanna beware, not scared.”

He’ll get a head shot

The clip I got from Kevin bakin', I’ll let it air up there

And your squad can’t jump in, this is yo' bag

Joey Jihad shit: you better take these punches on your own, Ave!

I don’t like you bitches

So watch the boy from the Quarter black and enlighten niggas

Large slug, I’ll ice you with it, nothin' small’s in the clip

A little nigga spit big 16’s like "Sky’s The Limit"

Real shit, you can’t keep it real yourself

Nigga, suicide or I’ll do the job, you decide… (Kill yourself!)

[Round 3: Ave]

To all you little niggas sendin' shots at the game, scram

Switch up your game plan, ‘cause shit changed

Don’t send a shot that’s way out your range, damn

Like, get this in your brains, fam

Before you make a Roc round

You got to see Ave first, that’s on the Cave, man

Don’t even play if y’all ain’t killers

‘Cause you gon’ have to be more than sharp for Tay

You know rock breaks scissors

But now that I’m up in the picture

Nigga, step to me, go ahead and sleep

But as soon as I catch you restin', peace

See, I’m that nigga in the East, nigga, they was checkin' for me

Basically, you get to eat off my flow: I’m Victor Sweet

See, that’s why we’re different, geek

‘Cause see I’ve been about the action

30 under the 40: that’s an improper fraction

I clap whatever pop in his mind

So you’ll be dead before Smack transform him

The first opp to miss prime

‘Cause never mind, ‘cause they don’t need him

Maybe I can leave him undercover next to God: I’ll J. Reid him

Who can’t see him? My flow skill only prove that he roadkill

I’ll beat him at his style with a touch, give it that road feel

And yo, fuck that punchline belt that they say you hold, queer

‘Cause I’ll put a tip to that title like it’s a Hov deal

I’m so ill, my flow hell, bro

Shit, I done took plain bars and washed bodies, like hotel soap

I’ll let a shell go, but he ain’t got the heart to be strapped

Don’t no niggas in Phoenix ring, blame Barkley for that

But I got smokers that clap, nigga, they stay with it

Soon as you see us whip, let that HK hit it

But I don’t need cash to pay they ticket

Shit, I can slide a cookie on the card, just like Day-Day did it

You want to take a thug’s gamble?

Well, understand, I’m strapped and fat

On both sides, nigga, I love handles

So fuck beef, ‘cause we run to it, sign on a pair of pennies

Watch the tongue before you see one through it

But you ain’t stupid, and you know that if we rumble, you out

So why speak what you don’t wanna be 'bout?

Like, be humble, don’t go runnin' your mouth

Or you can get a buck 50 upfront

I’ll start his own GoFundMe account

See, they doubt us, ‘cause we some south hitters

Well, I’m in your cotton-picking yard, holdin' my uncle Tom

Come out the house, nigga!

Big mouth, get a fuckin' bum murked up

‘Cause I doubt if he can hold steel, like your son first cut

It’s all a bluff, y’all buyin' all this reckless shit he talk?

I mean he ain’t really shootin': he Tom Sheppard in the park

So put your state on the map and just chill

Keep it rap ‘fore that AR is on a nigga back for real

You see the skill, they kill for the type of shit Ave write

I’m John Stockton with a dish to Malone, I’m past nice

Make your riders pay bucks up front, like a cab price

So when your team cap right on the head, it’s draft night

‘Cause you bad, right? Cool, well, the shots will get fatal

Let him run, shit, we ain’t done; spin the block like a dreidel

‘Cause we ain’t worried about the jakes, dog, we play raw

I don’t feel it’s a big risk, fuck it: that’s Ray Charles

But see, y’all support these bluffs

Meanwhile, I got a nigga tryin' to fight justice

Like Chicago with the brush

So before you start actin' all hyped from your yes men

Just know, life ain’t make you six feet, but death can

So you sayin' shit to fit for the footage

‘Cause where I’m from, we’re gon’ pull it

Long as it got a fire pin to the bullets

A high point 40 saved my life, I fell in love with that

That plastic was poppin' them rounds, and it wasn’t bubblewrap

But KG claim the West on your back? Well

When you’re shot and end up in a heavy bag, thank Kevin for that

So I hope he brung his chopper

‘Cause soon as he done, partner, niggas get lumped proper

We still owe them one for Hoffa

Now, I ain’t makin' this no Westside hate

Well, if it’s poppin' shit, then part two, they told me "Next fry Day!"

‘Cause I don’t play, that tough shit that he sayin', made up

Straight fable, you sex on cable: fake fuck

‘Cause you talkin' like you bangin' that steel

But see I really doubt that B be gunnin' unless you thinkin' like Bill

See, I can punch him to death

Not just with bars though, my hands is a problem

I’ll leave him lumped up, bad as Apollo

See, I ain’t only got to blast it with hollows

I mean, the Bible said “Thou shall not steal”

That’s the only Commandment I follow

I know I’m sinnin', Lord

No, BLAOW! – look who I’m sendin', Lord

You’ll see a Quarter flip in the battle, like the beginning, or

Squeeze this round, well, I can leave the semi now

‘Cause they ain’t gettin' the prints like Patrice McDowell

I got now, I told you fix my plate, right, Smack?

‘Cause they be sleepin', it’s time I bring my state right back

I don’t give a fuck about these sucker niggas, they type wack

‘Cause I’m a nigga out of Norfolk, straight like that

[Round 3: Rum Nitty]

Shit can get real Mz. Gracie, my nigga

I know what y’all thinkin', wait, y’all thinkin' weight

Nah, overkill, two hands over the mill

That’s what I was sayin': grace

A headshot in front of a crowd, he’ll go a crazy way

But givin' him the steel in the chest really takes the cake

For the record, I’ll deal with you, like labelmates

I’m nice, even if I fuck up it’s a dope error, like ‘88

He be talkin' like his gun dump

But won’t say it to the kid, I’ll lift a 9 in his face like I’m Nunn Nunn

You ain’t use your head, think

Better go watch my last shit again

That’ll make a young nigga fear the pen

He’ll be scared straight, I don’t lead waste

I’m only aimin' to stretch him

If I miss you, baby, it’s gon’ be okay, I got faith I’ma X him

Get did bad, bullet knock your man hat in the streets

For talkin' East–West, I’ll split you with the fifth, Ave

Quick bag, the PG never had a shot

Don’t be shocked if the kid pass

Let 30 out the thing, Saga versus Chilla

Tryin' to make his back slide with a dirty magazine

But they say his rounds poppin'

And I don’t want no trouble with that

But I’m just too damn different like Double Impact

Facts, one 9 will clap, your spine will crack

From this old Colt, they gon’ have to reunite his back

I can scrap, go across his chin, try the left

Or I right shit to flip the script: that’s The Butterfly Effect

Get ran through, I used to keep the nina on me ‘cause I had to

And on them long nights, Coors Light: shit got cold, the can blew

But you, on my life, nigga sweet, can’t catch me slippin'

I’ll commit assault on Ave like it’s ice on the street

Get stomped out if my squad start it

He’ll have 50 niggas turnin' up on Ave: that’s a block party

But he fuck with the law prob'ly

So I shouldn’t waste my breath on a rat, I ain’t John Coffey

But niggas blow smoke, no action, so if he miss a step

The 5 gettin' whipped from the belt: I go Joe Jackson

We pull up gangbangin', hoppin' out the 4-door flaggin'

And on sight, I’ll pick you off, like they photo-flagged him

I’m known for that, mid battle, a 40 clap

That shit will stop Ave dead in a round like a cul-de-sac

My style belong on Smack, I’m that sure, you dig me?

Y’all remember I’m Gonna Git You Sucka?

Well, me not steppin' on the platform is fishy

And me versus the niggas y’all wanna see?

It won’t happen – I come at them, they run from me

So I can only kill what rap niggas Smack put in front of me

But first, they ain’t want to fuck with me

And I’d have made it to the stage quicker

If I’d have done a PG or been from the East

But I battled Rex, Red, Ars, Lotta, Magic

For me to come to the East and do a PG, that’s backwards

But I still made it to this stage without that shit

So facts is, I ain’t earn my respect – I snatched it!

So you can’t put me in that box, I’m sorry

I done travelled all over the atlas, but y’all think I’ma come back to the Ave and get ran off? I’m not Safaree

The MAC raised, I’m droppin' every nigga out the BatCave

But first it started on the Ave like the old SMACK days!

"New York, New York, big city of dreams"

Y’all remember that Snoop shit?

Well, I brought in my dog pound

And let it kick in the building like Snoop did

Just worry ‘bout the bars and don’t worry what I got on

But if you is worried, lomclothing.com

Bitch, I already told him

I’m 99 percent gun lines, the other 1 is the slogan: KILL YOURSELF!