[Round 1: Hitman Holla]
Before I prove why I’m way better, I figured I could help ya
This the round I mold and groom
You hear that?
I ain’t even rhymed yet
And I’m already teachin’ the lil’ nigga how to control the room
You should be smilin’ all fuckin’ night, don’t frown in my presence
You know who also is on this card?
We ain’t Ordinary People, I put John around Legends
Knowin’ damn well you are not in my weight class
Johnny, it’s a size difference
I’m the reason you on this stage
No me, you’d still be outside in line tryin’ to buy a ticket
When you was Grind Time you wasn’t gettin’ no twitter bitch in the crowd tryin’ to find a victim
Come to this league, get straight on that bullshit: he Taj Gibson
It seems like every time you dissed, you direct it to me
But I’m confused, I’m like why you disrespectful to me?
See I bring in a lot of views so hate it can’t be
Niggas search for Hit and find you, you should thank me
But I ain’t gon take all the credit, I mean I’ma let him shine
But just know niggas scroll down the side
And watch yours after mines
I started from the bottom even zone by zone
And I got to this top spot on my own
You havin’ close battles with Bill Collector?
Everything I got paid for
So those kinds niggas can’t even call my phone
See, I’ll wipe the floor with Qleen, he a cheap sauce
I like my food cooked in the same breath I’II eat Raw
Jones think he Chilla, what am I? A deep frost
Why K snuck in the states, I get him shipped crossed
Man these rookies got me pissed off
[…] crazy that’s how I give it up, yo New York, I’m so HD
Basketball player so please don’t make me
Run up stock, pull up shot, I’ll JC
Now if y’all noticed I just dissed some of them Proving Ground geeks ’cause they the worst nerds
And since y’all rated PG, I ain’t even use curse words
When you was out tryin’ to get you a name, I was hot then
My stock on 1,000, grind mode locked in
Proving Ground nigga ain’t seen the work I clocked in
But it make sense he’s PG: John stock ten (John Stockton)
Are those freckles on your face? Stop actin’ like a bad guy
That mag 5 will put him in the air like a bad vibe
Bring him back point blank range, knock the brains out him
Than reload with the bullets that came out him
Fuck it, I’ma remix it!
Are those freckles on your face? Stop actin’ like a bad guy
That mag 5 will put him in the air like a bad vibe
That mag 5 will put him in the air like a bad vibe
Bring him back point blank range and knock the brains out him
Then reload with the bullets that came out—
Then then then then reload with the bullets that came out him
I’m on some Vietnam shit, Saving Private Ryan shit, all that times 4
Chopper wake the block, sound like I’m startin’ the lawn mower
Cops spot bits and pieces of him, they like “my Lord!”
I’m in Spain by the time that they find more
Have a kid knock in the front, come through the side door
Money ain’t part of the plan, what you alive for?
.45 for you, what you tryin’ to give me a five for?
Light the whole stage, Summer Madness July 4th
Cock that 4-5 like fuck it, give him 9 more
Turn his apple to seeds, see what they call him John for
Johnny Appleseeds all over, bring the pine, boy
Shout out to my nigga, free Hollow, he ain’t Da Don boy!
I know we in his hometown, but shit, be cautious dude
Ask Bill, I’ll still forget his rap
And stop his verse like, “Who you talkin’ to?”
I’ll put you in the sky or I’ll plant you in the soil
Multiple choice me I got a couple answers for you
I sick them dogs on you, it’s over, maybe next time
The Terminator wouldn’t even come to protect John
I got killers in Atlanta, it’s nothin’ to get him flatlined
So mention me and I’ll have niggas surround the A like a at sign
I know y’all probably thinkin’ Holla first round retarded
Not at all, I’m just gettin’ started
[Round 1: John John Da Don]
It’s kinds hard to spit water but all my versus fluid
I’ma beat Hitman Holla but I’m mad
‘Cause I ain’t gon’ be the first to do it
Pussy, you lost three battles straight, what you got to say?
Your losing streak gon end soon? Nigga, not today
It’s the new face of URL comin’ to take your spot away
I don’t give a fuck if it was Christmas, it ain’t Holiday (Holla day)
We wanted that Street Status Holla
Remember the one with the braids and the rope chain
The one that was willin’ to kill anybody
Not worried about no names
Not this Hollywood diva, punk, pussy-ass ho lame
Whose hairline could be the before picture for Rogaine
Now you got everything to lose and no gain
You gave me the shot so I’m takin’ it… close range
I kidnap your lil’ man, break both arms and both legs
Until his son need four casts like it’s no rain
Hold on, I gotta explain that
I forgot these country niggas is slow, mane
But I ain’t gon’ slow it down
And steal Conceited shit ’cause that’s so lame
But if you take four words like your son need four casts
And speed up the whole thang
It’s like sunny forecast like what it is when it don’t rain
What you gon’ say, I stole that all of the above line?
Anything to take away a nigga’s props
But honestly I ain’t know the shit was said before I said it
But the shit was hot, so shout out to Serius Jones
I ain’t tryin’ to take the nigga spot
But fuck him, Holla got to get the same multiple choice the last three niggas got
That’s A) gun in his mouth and have him talkin’ to the snub
Or B) fill up his stomach like I’m offerin’ him grub
Or C) go for the knees until he crawlin’ like a bug
Or D) start from his feet and shoot all of the above
Get loud, what you think I brought this silencer for?
To make sure this Hitman won’t Holla no more
All I need is one shot to put this guy on the floor
Don’t act like you ain’t die from a Hollow before
Flashback, remember what Hollow said
About his bitch and how the balls played?
He ain’t know her but when that D Rose she was like Deng
See that was hard and I ain’t tryna come up with a better scheme
But if you gon’ be a champion, why not run with the better team?
‘Cause your bitch said ever since your hairline been lookin’ like that
You been thinkin’ you King James
So like Mario I charmed her (Chalmers)
And got her open with this Heat game
I stuck her with good D, had the bitch callin’ me Shane
The way I was poundin’ it
She had to ask how much my D weighed (D. Wade)
Two TEC’s duets, that mean they gotta sing together
Once again I’m LeBron and D-Wade with that Heat
They gotta (got a) ring together
That remix bar you did vers’ Verb was pretty clever
But I’m a remix the shit again to make it even better
Ever seen a MAC-11 with a AR clip?
It got a scope so every nigga in my radar hit
I keep some NY K’s but it ain’t all Knicks
That baby Wesson is for your junior, that’s my J.R. Smith
Ever seen a MAC-11 with a AR clip?
It got a scope so every nigga in my radar hit
It got a scope so every nigga in my radar hit
I keep some NY K’s but it ain’t all Knicks
That baby Wesson for your junior, baby Wesson for your junior
Baby Wesson for your junior, that’s my J.R. Smith
How are you a part time Blood but a full time fuckin’ punk?
If you gonna rep that 5 you gotta rep it all the time
You can’t claim it when the fuck you want
See where’s that red flag at now Hitman?
Exactly, see you fuckin’ up
That’s how I know you pussy ’cause you only bleed once a month
The contract said don’t get physical right, damn that
Better get your man Smack or get your man smacked
I don’t give a damn what he claim when that can clap
Leave this pussy blood soaked up: Tampax
You young-ass clown with that young-ass style
Stop sayin’ you a vet, sit your young-ass down! Ball game!
[Round 2: Hitman Holla]
See that’s your problem, Johnny
You sound like everybody else, shit got me dumb hot
Do you know tryin’ to have all bars
With nothin’ else is like dribblin’ in one spot?
This nigga got a game plan like nothin’ else matters
I could stand right here and do a John type of battle
Example, one two three four punchline
One two three four punchline
Then he might multiple choice, one two three—
Man, go on! I be ignorin’ that shit
‘Cause real niggas never watch none of that boring-ass shit
But me, I got delivery, performance, aggression
That’s a triple threat
I might cross right he beat me there, I spin left
John John lyrical, I know, I respect that
So now if he rebuttal I could give him a step back
A vet I’m too smart it’s nothin’ to get wild on him
He knew I wanna shoot, I pump faked to get the foul on him
Point I’m tryin’ to make you need it all to be nice
You gon’ need more than bars if you wanna win tonight
You a Proving Ground nigga, this is proven ground, nigga
That’s a million view step, that’s how I move around, nigga
I’m a shark, when that water come you will drown, nigga
“Holla won’t give me a shot,” wear a fuckin’ gown, nigga!
Wait, let me guess, another million views
Changed Holla to a different dude?
But I don’t respect that comin’ from dudes without a million views
Me beatin’ you I gain nothin’, stop actin’ like this win helps
On the other hand I could lose about ten belts
Let me break it down, lil Johnny, I’ma coach you
I body bag you, I just did what I was supposed to
You body bag me, well tomorrow you on Oprah
Your face on billboards, your slogan on posters
I brought all the food to the table, you a loafer
You just eatin’ off another nigga’s kill, you a vulture
Smack called us outside
And said “Holla, battle John John and get his fans up!”
I said nah, John John said “mannn…”
He was like “Man, I’m just so tired of people tellin’ me I’m not top tier, I just feel like I’m ready for that big
Come on, Holla, you know what I’m sayin’?”
He like “I’m sayinnn’… if I battle you I’ma get my name up
I get $100 a battle, I get my change up
Nobody know me in ATL, I get my fame up.”
Shut up! I told Smack set it up, any time any day
I’m a realtor, I came to put John in his place
No, I’m a realer tier, I came to put John in his place
Y’all shed realer tears when I put John in his place
You remind me of a cop, I’ll tie you to a box
Outside bathroom, they’ll find you on the watts
Get me pissed, I let shit fly and Johnny on the spot
Cops came to the scene all they found was a Porta-John
Slow it down, I said cops came to the scene
All they found was a part of John
You a coward, you bitch-ass nigga, go back to Grind Time
Syah Boy is trash, he ain’t better than Time Bomb
Machete hit his waste, he hit the floor, pom pom
Split him in two, now y’all really can call him John John
I showed up at his house just to prove that he a fraud
The nigga wasn’t there, I left the message with the dog
It was three bodies left, I put one in the hall
I’m a wizard with the shit, the other two on John Wall
New York full of Bravehearts, you supposed to be a brave cat
But this scary nigga went and moved to where the Braves at
One phone calls them K’s blat, get him laid flat
That old Holla flow, it feel like I got my braids back
Choppa hit his wave cap, make the nigga—
Third round comin’ up, y’all know Holla gotta save that
[Round 2: John John He Don]
Every bar that you ever said was all lame
Matter fact I think the hottest shit you ever said was probably ball game
That’s why your fans can’t wait for your rounds to end
So they can say it with you
But ball game don’t mean shit to a nigga that ain’t playin’ with you
Hitman Holla vs Aye Verb, damn… that battle shocks me still
‘Cause how you let a nigga violate your father
In front of you and not get killed?
See that couldn’t have been, I woulda cocked the steel
And put it in his mouth so he can talk to my pops for real
You been a bitch ever since your moms water broke
You might be Big Gerald son but your Aye Verb’s daughter though
Sounds a lil confusing, I don’t know how the story go
But I can only imagine if they was to go on the Maury Show
Now picture Maury sittin’ down
You know, interviewin’ Holla’s mama
He sayin’ big Gerald gotta be the daddy
‘Cause he was cuffin’, playin’ cops and robbers
Now the results come in, everybody gettin’ hot and bothered
And Maury goes “Ay, big Gerald”
“Yes sir!” You are not the father!
A million people sat and watched Verb take your father’s place
I swear, if I was there I woulda laughed in your father’s face
‘Cause now you gotta start callin’ Verb on Father’s Day
‘Cause that nigga sonned you and killed you
Nigga, you Marvin Gaye!
I see you shinin’ blinged up with your new frozen
“But don’t take my shit, John John,” that’s what this lame hopin’
I’m sendin’ shots at his neck ’til that chain broken
Pullin’ SIG after SIG after SIG, now that’s chain smokin’
Now let him come around showin’ off the shine he bought
Niggas wind up in concentration camps for them kinda thoughts
In other words, put that necklace and watch on and try to floss
I’m lettin’ eight off (Adolf) if I find out what the jewels (Jews) on Holla cost (Holocaust)
Won’t nobody identify him even if they do find his corpse
‘Cause his face got ate off for his jewels, now look what Holla cost
I gather up every last one of his relatives just to knock him off
Kinda like Adolf did to the Jews during the Holocaust
Like I said you shinin’, my nigga
How much you paid for them jewels?
You got 40,000 followers, right?
I wanna know how much you paid for them too
‘Cause how you got more than Hollow, Conceited and Murda Mook and they more famous than you?
Hello Hitman, you got some explainin’ to do
I mean, did you borrow them? Did you buy them?
Did somebody lose them? Did you find them?
How all of them got eggs for avatars, Holla, what the hell?
But you don’t gotta check your followers to see a bunch of shells
Y’all gon think he worked at Magic City when that chrome spittin’
I make it rain ’til he topless like half of his clothes missin’
Get his ass clapped and he ain’t gotta have no rhythm
They gon find him like a strip club
That’s with a bunch of holes (hoes) in him
These bullets like hair gel, you know, somethin’ for that wig
These blades barbecue sauce, you know, somethin’ for the ribs
Like home school I’ma test him when I run up in his crib
This time he get a multiple choice on who he want to live
That’s A) his mom cookin’ but she fuckin’ up the grub
B) his son playin’ in the bubbles in the tub
C) save yourself since you wanna be a thug
Skid D, I’m choosin’ E) that’s none of the above
For that long bread and cheese put your mother in a sub
Turn his son bath water to a puddle of his blood
Open arms squeeze like I’m comin’ for a hug
Like the Folgers coffee I got somethin’ for your mug
You young-ass clown with that young-ass style
Stop sayin’ you a vet, sit your young-ass down!
[Round 3: Hitman Holla]
Besides the fact that you ain’t better than nobody I done battled
You ain’t better than nobody I done battled
Ask the crowd? Is he better than Hollow? No…
Is he better than Aye Verb? No…
So let me guess, y’all say he better than Aye Verb
So he better than Big T?
Is he better than that nigga I battled in front of Beanie Sigel?
Aight, he might be better than him, but so?!
Matter fact how ’bout you name a nigga you battled that’s better than me? Lotta Zay? Half Past Seven? Bro…
Yo’ average-ass background seems to only amazes you
If battle raps was education your bullshit resume wouldn’t get you up outta grade school
And I know what he thinkin’
John John thinkin’ he did somethin’ right
He like, “Why you choose me?”
Nigga, the whole world know I don’t smoke
That’s the only reason I chose you over QP
And for your FYI this drama that we establishin’
These cannons that I brought to Manhattan not battlin’
But then I almost forgot, let me tell y’all about this nigga
He a over there, over here, back over there
Both sides of the fence nigga
See the difference between me and you besides coachin’
Is that I’m Street Status turned Smack all in one motion
I battled on another camera once
That’s ’cause they gave me $3,000 for one round
My son six, so suck a dick
For whoever hoped or wished for me to turn that down
But you Grind Time, Smack
Back to Grind Time, back to Smack, that shit wack
Now I coulda told him go on get your money
I ain’t ever throwin’ shade
But how could I tell him that when he wasn’t even gettin’ paid?
But keep him around URL, peep Smack
The only thing good about a snake is that it eat rats
Y’all mean to tell me it’s no contracts
And T-Will already paid me my cheddar?
Let John John and his brother trip, it’s like that 40 and 4-5
Some type of kid how I raise ’em together
I leave you slumped in the leaves or the sands
When I’m squeezin’ these cans
Try to block it, hit your wrist
And you gon’ leave without your hands
Leave without your hands, leave, leave without your hands
Yeah, jokes was on me when it was “leave without your hands”
Well tonight I bet I laugh when I leave with seven grand
I tried to warn the lil’ nigga like “Calm down, your death near.”
Fuck who on this card, I feel like I’m the best here
Three losses in a row? Let me put that to rest here
If losses get you this, well I’ma lose all next year
Yeah, that’ll wake the haters up
Nigga you a rookie, I’m top tier, you don’t favor us
Shoot every casket they put you in, K’s will bust
‘Til they stop coming to rehearse you (Rehearsal): David Ruff
Y’all know David Rough in Temptation, he stop comin’ to rehearsal
Anyways, this Big T flavor
He took my young nigga Shine I’m just returnin’ the favor
They say I bought followers and I paid Twitter to mail out
Now is it just me or do that sound like some shit only broke niggas will yell out?
Look here, I tell you to your face that you tight
But your performance cheeks, you just under a’ight (eye)
You got a whole lot of mouth when we ain’t neck to neck
Too much weight on your shoulders
Playin’ checkers when it’s chess (chest)
You need some more arms to stomach my rhymes
So on the other hand you was a waste of my time
I’m back, lil’ niggas, Mook voice “Easy!”
All on my dick, it’s obvious that he need (knee’d) me
Pissed down his leg in Chicago in that lobby
I told the nigga then you need to find another hobby
Defeat him in New York, 10-4, copy
Now that’s the definition of a motherfuckin’ body!
[Round 3: John John Da Don]
You battled Hollow, Goodz and Aye Verb
And swore that you was comin’ off
Now you battlin’ me? That’s ’cause you fuckin’ loss
I got the upper hand even though I’m the underdog
‘Cause a Hitman is a worker and a Don is a fuckin’ boss
Why are you so gassed off that one battle with Arsonal?
Besides that second round we can’t quote a fuckin’ bar from you
So to prepare for this third round really wasn’t hard to do
I’m tired of goin’ bar for bar with you
It’s time to have a heart to heart with you
Your battles be only good live ’cause of your performance
But when we watch it on cam’
You got no bars and it’s fuckin’ boring
I know I wasn’t supposed to be on this card
If it wasn’t for you I would not be on it
‘Cause you sucked Terrance Williams dick to put up money for it
I got a question, since you like to call me D League
Then what made you jump down off your high horse to come and see me?
So that means either I’m top tier amongst the elite
Or your last three losses landed you back in the PG’s
So other than respect I’m really not gainin’ shit
Granted your last few battles, yeah you was the main event
My last few battles I was the undercard true indeed
But if we’re still the fuckin’ undercard, what did you do for me?
If anything you was on my dick, you fuckin’ creep
You been blowin’ my phone up for the past four fuckin’ weeks
And got my name in every last one of your fuckin’ Tweets
And you harassed me in Chicago for nine hours
I couldn’t get no fuckin’ sleep
And you had bars prepared for me, you was shooken then
At least tell me which one of them wack-ass rounds you put ’em in
I really don’t care, I just had to pull this nigga card
But enough talkin’ to him, now it’s time to give this nigga bars
What, you got protection now?
Choppa knock his section down
Why are you still here? Didn’t you die in my second round?
If I hear Holla movin’ weight I bring that Wesson round
And make sure that Smith get his eyes and heart
If it’s anything over 7 Pounds
Now I know, I know, I know I know
That reference may have been said before
But so fuckin’ what? I’m battlin’ a nigga that’s been dead before
Wanna play games with my chips, I’m connectin’ four
And blackin’ till it’s red all over like a checker board
His baby moms Crisada don’t seem to understand English
So I decided to test the whore
She suck at a verbs, nouns, similes and metaphors
Wait, do I need Conceited to slow that down
Or have Surf put that in subtitle text for y’all?
I said she suckin’ Aye Verb now since December
At least that’s what he met her for
It seem like she’s a battle rap groupie, that’s who you livin’ with?
As much as I heard III been in her I know you feelin’ sick
And I hit the bitch, she was all on a nigga dick
His honey must turd I be dipped so that chicken stripped
I was so deep in that pussy I had to climb out
Stuck my log in, she got my log off, then I signed out
And I heard your parents separated, let me find out
Y’all know I love cougars
But I’d rather let this Ruger take his mom out
Keep tryin’ to show out, that’s only gon’ get your brother slapped
You ain’t gotta wait ’til Halloween to get your pumpkin patched
Somethin’ like a dyke with that pipe, yeah I’m fuckin’ strapped
Lift my arms up and clap like I’m doin’ jumping jacks
A million views don’t make you a vet
All that screamin’ while you rappin’ don’t make you a threat
You think you J.R. Smith, here’s 8 to the chest
I have him throwin’ up blood like he bangin’ his set
We on real nigga time, you as fake as it get
You been fakin’ as a killa, try fakin’ your death
Either get your mind right or get it banged to the left
‘Cause when that lead get drawn I ain’t makin’ a sketch
Whoever called you Hitman wasn’t namin’ you right
‘Cause you ain’t catch one body one day in your life
So please don’t say the John if you ain’t sayin’ it twice
And if you don’t add Da Don you ain’t sayin’ it right