[Round 1: Hollow Da Don]
I said fuck Surf, I know who y’all want to see me against
And most think I can’t match his wits
He had a wish and it was death like Charles Bronson action flicks
I know weapons and who manufactured it
Your arms don’t look right to a bomb covered in uranium 236
And that’s the shit we hit Iraqis with
But corporations play like philanthropists
That’s why I’m dressed like this
‘Cause through the war they profit massive chips
See, wait, wait, wait, let me chill
‘Cause everybody that raps like this choke like Lux or Canibus
It got disastrous in Los Angeles, and for that nut-ass old head?
Let’s save it for Summer Madness then
I said shout my nigga Lyt
He said these battle niggas, a lot of ’em will front
I know y’all think I wasted bars and those probably for Lux
But I can push Tsu aside
‘Cause I knew this was a body from the jump
But he say he the best nigga in Jersey
Well if I kill him, his niggas won’t have to team up
Now they should be on they toes like a ballerina
Once they boss get the MAC and nina
Instead, they was like a soda I left in back of freezer
‘Cause the rest ended up flat, even though I capped the leader
But he the best nigga in Jersey, he hell and he raw
Well, Surf gonna get that title waved and even see shells for sure
He don’t swim inside when fishes glide, he shrimp and fries
I’m cool by the water: Mr. Hyde mixed with Denzel in Crimson Tide
I’ll lift the 9, hit his moms, he’ll be electrified and petrified
I won’t sympathize while you sit and cry and watch your sister die
I mean Surf ain’t no thug to me
This chump Suzie’ll sue me on Judge Judy for bills like Doug Flutie
I mean your last battle, they should’ve hung up pictures of you everywhere: you lost dog
Conceited beat you usin’ all punchlines and you was a lost cause
All he rapped about was his Taurus and Mustang
And those are all bars, but try to focus and move forward
Or you’ll be another nigga that Con tore
Erase everything I said out y’all memory, fuck it
I want to do my original introduction
I said I spent most of last year in a holding cell
Givin’ them MAC’s and revoke my bail
I went from havin’ my own clothing line
To wearing matching clothes in jail
I used to battle for love, the aspirations, the hopes to sell
But now… I’m just up here rappin’ because I’m broke as hell
Nah, nah, nah, I got a little cake, you got some cake?
I got some change in this bitch
Said they was bringin’ a bitch named Tsu/Sue
I was like, “Cool… I’ma make it rain on that bitch!”
Y’all peep that? Y’all see what I’m tryna do?
You see how I got this crowd for you?
You see that money surroundin’ you?
New York, I just turned URL into Sue’s Rendezvous
You look like one of them clean dirty niggas
Hold up, let me get a whiff and shit…
Nigga, you smell like you’ve been runnin’ errands
Doin’ a whole list of shit: boar ham hocks and chitlin grits
Old drawls, fish and chips, coleslaw mixed with sh—
Ain’t this a bitch… no, that’s a question: ain’t this a bitch?
Well cool, here’s a tip, someone tell that bitch to strip!
I said he just want this little change
And a little name and a little fame like Billy Danze
Well my nigga, you do ya thang, I don’t hate when you spittin’
But your rebuttals are horrible
So do us a favor, go straight to your writtens!
[Round 1: Tsu-Surf]
I said I like that line about your fit
It kinda go with how you dress: camouflage, ‘ARMY’
This AR on my hip make it easier to go across his chest
But, I’m the reason Hitman Holla ain’t kill ’em
But I had to pay him like three to five
The contract said: “Fuck him up, but bring him to me alive.”
I reviewed the game tapes, my last response I
Could’ve saved some fuckin’ money
‘Cause you can’t send a kid to do a man’s job
But H-O-L-L-O-W, how you got your name?
Nah, Arsonal beat yo’ ass: in other words, you ate yo’ L on the low
That’s how you got your name
Sometimes you gotta swallow a loss to stomach gettin’ better
I know that’s a pill you don’t want to digest
But my question is, why I’m the Jersey nigga you want try next?
Gloves and a mask, out the Jeep with that thing low
I know he Hollow, but I pray I see Nigel to let that thing go
Lightsabers and some— you see a beam, then that thing blow
Out the Jeep it start to drizzle, they tell it was a Durango
Fuck I need to put it in subtitles or somethin’?
Out the Jeep it starts to drizzle, ain’t no tellin’ where the rain go
A thirsty nigga in the club: I’m tryna hit everything standin’
It got a kickback when it shoot so when it aim you gotta slant it
With your life, crawl for it, tryna see the gates then access granted
On the block with somethin’ DeAndre size
One word to explain that night: Brandon
Your mom probably was a whore and your daddy didn’t love her
Kids by another nigga so your brother wasn’t your brother
Walk up in her room dumpin’, shootin’ straight through the cover
I felt just as bad as your father: puttin’ a hollow in your mother
And I don’t wanna hear about how I ain’t got no wins and whatnot
Battlin’ Tsu, 4th quarter: that’s a tough spot
I hate you and that whole fuckin’ cult, that shit must stop
I learned you just a backup for Andrew, chasin’ Lux spot
And how you tryin’ to box with a nigga
With the Devil’s footwork and God reach
Ray Lewis: wish I could get that line back
But the last thing he got was a ring after that God speech
I’m at his door, knock-knock
“Nigel, why you wanna fuck with me?”
Shawn Carter: I ain’t gotta find where he fuckin’ be
Bars, got some; sucker, not one; you mad, then pop son
Victim, got one; give him my stocks ten
They think I’m from Da Jungle but I’m not son
Rest in peace Tall T… his last battle’ll be a shotgun
If it was really Loyalty Over Money
GrindTime’ll still be an up-and-runnin’ league right now
You, Con, Cort, DNA and a couple other niggas
All playin’ for a different team right now
I mean with them names GrindTime would still be afloat
With your bum ass
And Smack ain’t gonna do shit but stand there and smile
‘Cause he get paid off your dumbass
You was battlin’ Illmacs and Okwerdz and Passwurdz
Rhymin’ ventilators, usin’ generators, usin’ mad words
Then come to the URL and everybody “snow dat”
Snow what? Them weirdos fuck with you, but so what?!
I had a threesome with Karma and Death
In them graveyards you’ll find plenty bodies
And if this MAC hit his hat
He’ll have enough cap room to sign anybody
I’ll bring some tape, a rope, zip ties and a swammy
Since he loyal to his homies, we gonna go and get his family
If I break this scheme down he gon’ say he can’t stand me
But it’ll get ugly, no crime seen, they’ll see us out in Miami
Fuck I need to put it in subtitles or somethin’?
It get ugly, no, crime scene: that’s CSI: Miami
The way NY battlin’ lookin’
If y’all was the Heat, fine, none of y’all be LeBron
But it’s cool, no worries, I’ll tag ’em
Clips’ll be Wade; DNA, Bosh
He ain’t battle in two years, the roster shouldn’t have him
Rex, Allen; Shine, Lewis; Math, Birdman
Con could be Chalmers, and you Don is Haslem
Cortez the nigga by the Gatorade
The team ain’t really want that pick
On the bench like, “If that was me I woulda dunked that shit.”
And when I signed that contract, that meant that it’s over
Anybody else I ain’t named’ll be sittin’ next to Spoelstra
Smack said “You want the Don?” I said “Hollow? Clown!”
I mean back then he was cool but let’s talk about Hollow now
You got some bark but that’s not how a hollow sound
My hitman’ll treat your death like he was battlin’ John John
That means we know he usin’ some hollow rounds
[Round 2: Hollow Da Don]
Let me tell you about this bitch Tsu, you know what this bitch do?
Let another nigga pimp Tsu
Smack him too hard and get his pimp suit
Let me tell you about this bitch Tsu, you know what this bitch do?
Let another nigga be his big homie ‘cause he 6’2
Let me tell you about this bitch Tsu, you know what this bitch do?
Battle me even though he gon’ lose, it’s for the big views
I’m sharp, it’s off with his head
I’m sharp, it’s off with his head… should I say it again, Tsu?
I said any of y’all niggas touch the Don, you hit
Touchin’ me ain’t worth goin’ through the harsher shit
Bombs get sent, moms get bent, arms get lift
I mean, Tribe Called Quest and Kanye West
I’m just tryin’ to make him think about the consequence
And what’s that talk like you gonna jump me in a minute?
Nigga stop, I’m chicken pox: if you touch me you gon’ get it
Anytime it’s in open invitation, you can come to a nigga hood
My address is 1922— I wish a nigga would!
I said you right, R.I.P. Tall T, but fuck that nigga Suge!
I’ma tell you why later, but for now it’s gonna get—
I said let me tell you about this bitch Tsu
You know what this bitch do?
Tell the fans he was in Detroit with that thing on him
But niggas like me that was in the D don’t believe that shit’s true
Y’all wanna hear what shit’s true?
Aight, so let me tell you about this bitch Tsu
Him and his niggas was in front of Calicoe mom’s shop, pourin’ up
He wanted to smoke
He hopped in his man’s rental car, he was rollin’ up
I mean, niggas is loud so of course cops showin’ up
His man peep before they was slowin’ up
Threw the burner in the car with Surf, then throws it up
This nigga go and grab the shit, you know he dumb
I’m lyin’? No bail money, Smack, let’s just say he owe you one
It’s funny Shotgun ain’t give a fuck, you ain’t even care the amount
Damn, you was locked like Pac
But Suge wasn’t there to bail you out?
I mean and he the reason you did that
You dissed a dead legend—you a flunky, you a geek
And your other nigga, he a sucka, yeah he weak
He said “Fuck Surf!” and threw the thumper on the seat
So not only am I questionin’ your judgment
Now I’m questionin’ your chief, ‘cause you said it yourself:
“You only as real as the company you keep.”
But since his man gave him the charge
He’s been on the low, dodgin’ imprisonment
Hopin’ it gets better, playin’ Chris Webber
Tryin’ to forget that time out in Michigan
I don’t need y’all to look at me crazy like I’m tellin’ somethin’
‘Cause when he said he was in Detroit
With that thing on him, he was dry snitchin’ then
I’m doin’ the opposite, I’m tellin’ y’all he’s innocent
He’s innocent… he’s innocent…
And I really feel bad for my nigga
‘Cause everybody call Surf a snitch, I don’t be playin’ with it
Well, I might do the same but get a little more creative with it
See, the streets is like the highway when you ride through
So know your limits and don’t go over
You’ll see them lights flashin’ behind you
Hold up, let me rewind, cool?
Streets is like the highway so I’ma ride too
You told so pay since you crossed
Or the cops gonna have to find you
I still got 6 crackin’ to make him turn true blue
With 5 poppin’, lot of blood gonna be leakin’ outta Tsu… WOO!
I wanted to be on the the next one, but I respect my Crip cats
Them lines was so good I had to bring the shit back
And shoutout to everybody that rep they city, they region
That’s that
But Queens been runnin’ all you battle niggas, ask Smack!
[Round 2: Tsu Surf]
You could cook raw fish on my block: we the greasiest
And you see that nigga standin’ right there
Right there, him… It’s cool
It’s good he ain’t do it, ‘cause gullible niggas the easiest
But debatables, wins, losses—I got classics, I did it for the money
Anybody say Surf ain’t got bars
Hella million views and kill a dude is a dummy
Your delivery, sometimes his bars never too crazy
When I try to think classics it gets fuzzy
Your last time goin’ hard was my first time ever on the card
Anything before Richard, that mean your prior shit was funny
What’d you say? On to the next one, on to the next one?
Never been a slouch or soft, I don’t know what you heard nigga
My patience is skinny when it comes to throwin’ bullets at these bird niggas
Now I know that wasn’t like super duper duper cold
But it is when you compare Flacco to the Ravens in the Superbowl
It’s always a nigga in your way, sometimes you gotta move ’em
I ain’t a freshman, ain’t new or soft
More reason he gonna get to wishin’ I ain’t school him
Peep junior, I seen your face
You probably caught my last scheme, that’s what I meant to do
Freshman, sophomore, junior…
You ain’t graduatin’, these claps in the air is for principle
I’m tied with a shoe string around my neck, that’s all hell bro
And those right here, but it’s pokin’ my elbow
Ironic I tie it with a shoe string
‘Cause the silencer make it sound like Velcro
So them 32 shots gon’ do magic
He got it, they couldn’t tell though
And you fuck with Drake, right? Well, thank me later!
That’s why I show my crew love, they do not care
They hold enough bullets to start from the bottom to ’bout here
Beat me? Hell yeah fuckin’ right
You must be in Marvin’s Room sniffin’ shrooms
Or whatever keep you up at night
And my bitches don’t love Beyonce
They love money and they tryna work
They need some G’s, Alicia Keys: all you’ll see is fireworks
These shits sound like Mike Will made ’em, I’m bombin’ when I clap
Dumb him in his brain, then dump him by the train
There’ll be a zombie on the track
You think Con beat me? Get off Con nuts
That’s violation, dickridin’ is misconduct
You was behind Con the whole time, so if missin’ that shot got me this spot it’s ‘cause I purposely missed, Con ducked
I’m not chokin’… and if you can, please don’t mind my silence
I’m just tryin’ to let my mind vacate before I resort back to violence
Vacate, resort… I could be in the stu with this
That’s some wild shit!
Just snow that these clips still go both ways
You want a round? Trip!
Speakin’ of clips, I ain’t got a problem givin’ him the whole clip
I’m usin’ all of mine
And if the judge see a clip of what I did to Clips with that clip
Shit’ll look like a Charlie Clips pic: DNA won’t be too far behind
Okay, I was in Detroit wildin’
Okay, that’s right, I went to Detroit dolo, just me and my yolo
Ready to jump at any action if it happen to pogo
But you say shit like: “Call me Hands, you could count on me.”
I say shit like, “I don’t think nothin’ in him G.”
So wherever we meet, I’m robbin’ him, he got bands on him
And he ain’t ’bout that gunplay so why lay hands on him?
This is my house, nigga! Smack, if he stall he gettin’ clapped
Got a gun but I don’t need to blow it
Right knock him out his Reeboks and he ain’t even know it
[Round 3: Hollow Da Don]
They say Hollow is a fuckin’ vet
But he trippin’ because he ain’t even rebuttal yet
But it’s a few of his bars that I gotta flip
I said why, that bar I happened to hear
You said you clapped like the graduation
You put the caps in the air? That’s what you do?
I said I don’t walk around like André
Wearin’ flannel and soundin’ like André, nah
Dressed like Kanye, nah
A mean murder probably what I’m down for some day
Or I be like Rick Ross: even though you see me with mils
I’m still down with gunplay
Smack said “Hollow, you got Surf, you gotta make this nigga bleed
I’ll set you half up front.” Whew, that’s all a nigga need!
It’s time to ride, whip him like Amistad
It’s a homicide and not a regular death
I want his insides stuffed to show like Ahmad Rashad
So don’t talk to me ‘cause awkwardly
I can hear you piss in your pants
And you never thought you could loss to me
That’s how I knew I had this shit in the bag
I don’t care if he got the 5th and he hold that blicker
Your crew in town, I make ’em move around, I know mad niggas
Last year he quit battlin’, they say he fire on wax
They gassed pa’ like Nascar so he thought he could retire off tracks
Shoutout BK, LG, I stay up in the spot
Them the niggas that’ll hit your face up with the Glock
Everyday I’m in the hood, taped up with the Koch
KD, Dwayne Wade: I wake up to the block
Should I keep goin’ on, showin’ y’all my freestyle ability?
But nah, hold on, first let me break him down lyricially
I mean, you got it poppin’ Tsu, niggas rock with Tsu
I mean, your aggression like Pac in Juice
But your rhymin’ like Dr. Seuss
See it’s ‘cause your set-ups be mad weak
It’s always a gun line ‘cause when you went to tell K Shine
“Dot Mob, throw ’em in the back seat!”
You set it up with, “I know you don’t clap heat!”
Nigga, you coulda said somethin’ about a black Jeep
On a back street, how a Jag creep
Anything in that bar to connect with a car and match, peep
See my setups be crazy, all my frees be fertile
Yours be “I’ll leave you purple
Steam and hearse you, squeeze and murk you.”
Damn, you got these fans blindfolded by the trash
Like a Febreze commercial
Now I’m on the Internet surfin’
Just to touch the surface of what Surf is
Once I surface he won’t resurface, that’s for certain
I’m lookin’ through the curtains
Like, “Ssssshhhh, that’s Surf and his bitch!”
They got drugs they sellin’ now, I took ’em to my cellar now
Duck tape on they mouth, they yellin’ loud
They keep movin’, grab a rope and get ’em bound
You’d thought Surf was in a tux
And his bitch was in a wedding gown
‘Cause once I tied the knot, they settled down
Flip his shit in the middle of the round
Wait, you know how Da Don do
You like to play Swear to God? I wanna play Swear to God too
Swear to God we wasn’t in Detroit and you said Joe Budden’s pussy and everything he write is trash
You swear to God you ain’t say everything he write is trash?
This why I don’t like these battle rap niggas with they lyin’ ass
I’ma do the battle standin’ over here
‘Cause God ’bout to strike his ass!
Aight, you feel like you got this third? Your luck’s up?
You wanna keep playin’ Swear to God?
Or you gon’ shut the fuck up?
Swear to God you wasn’t livin’ in Joe Budden’s crib earlier this year
You was? Okay, so don’t talk about my crib, let’s talk about yo crib
You stay at your ho crib, just moved out your old crib
Now you stay at Joe crib, so basically you ain’t got no crib
Ohhhh, I got it, I got it… he ain’t got no crib so I figured it out
That’s how he got his name: he be couch surfin’
That nigga balled up on the love seat, his bones hurtin’
Roasting session…
Nigga, you look like a broke-ass Loon, so worthless
I mean, you know shit’s bad
When I’m callin’ him the broke version of a broke person
I mean, y’all wanna hear one of Surf’s bars?
“Soon as I pull out
That chopper go dummy like Kimmy in that full house”
Yeah, that was hot, that was hot
But my nigga, you watch Full House?!
Ayy, that’s cool, ‘cause I do too
So damn your hammer or damn your nana
Since you live with Uncle Joey, I’m runnin’ in that full house like Danny Tanner
Somebody tell Eddie Winslow I don’t think family matters
Shoutout to my GrindTime fans, they’ll never forget that
I was so focused back then I had to bring the shit back
I said pause, you see that money? You could relate to strippers
We trick dealers and tell where the real bill is
And these niggas can’t touch us but still feel us
Plus we still stealers and peel pillers
You got real killers? Well, I got killers that kill killers
Nigga, fuck with me!
I ran up on him, stabbed him up, gave him a buck 50
And the funny thing about that: I had a gun with me
I don’t need a gun—fuck TEC’s and pistols!
I put that Calico away ‘cause I got pets that’s pitbulls
I collect to sick you
If it’s problems, I handle it, I don’t send my set to get you
I bring it to your door like a magazine and address the issue
You done? You wanna talk now?
Red the dread head, you better chill nigga
I said 20-50’s or 50-20’s is what I gotta be
20-50’s or 50-20’s is what I gotta be?
Do the math, stupid ass, I’m tellin’ you that I’m a G
I done rang up more bucks than dollar tree
And I’m feelin’ like you lied to me
So you owe me… your fuckin’ life
Clutch the pipe, you wanna fight?
We on your head, we gon’ lump you
And we’ll probably get a battery charge
‘Cause we ain’t want you dead so we jumped you
I said shoutout to the URL fans, y’all will never forget that
Them lines was so ill for Surf, I had to remix that
[Round 3: Tsu-Surf]
This third round is so cold, but it’s not for you
That Full House rebuttal was crazy
But Danny Tanner means you watched it too
When I think back on all my battles, I think great shit
Like that Church bar, that Lake shit
A nigga say he hate that Lake shit, I gotta say he on some hate shit
Well he really gonna hate this
Late night goons, we usually come in after 12
Fuck one, fuck six, I’m comin’ after 12
It hold 28, so 16 comin’ after 12
I gotta start to pow when
It’s like Dwight been fouled when 16 comin’ after 12
I got some shit to make your hitmen hurl
Never leave without my hands: no Hitman Earl
And he wanna start then I’ll continue to spark in
Put in another six like the sixth man Earl
He need schoolin’ so fuck it, I’ma learn his ass
No coffin, I’m thinkin’ more urn and ash
See I’m way too advanced for these niggas and I’m mad
Like that last line for instance, urn and ash: THAT’S NASH!!!
I tell my niggas run in his crib, they gon’ make it happen
Hit the door, flip the bed, open every cabinet
Kill his dog, leave the kids, take everything, let him have it
Game point shot, we GPS pussy: that’s urinary tractin’
I bought some treats for this trick
But it ain’t candy we sprayin’ with ’em
Who in here think Hollow better than Surf?
Well y’all gon’ be layin’ with him
Smack gon’ be yellin’ stop, all the homies gon’ be sayin’ get ’em
‘Bout 10:31 at his door, tell Hollow we ain’t playin’ with him
Bars flyin’ pass his head, I’m prayin’ that they graze him
Hollow Da Boss then these bomb lines just might phase him
Heard a few niggas whisper like, “Yeah, Surf might get zipped 3’d.”
Gotta be dreamin’, I’m a nightmare
But it’s cool if he tryna get sleep
I move cattle, I’ll move his cat too, in my habitat we zip beef
Let me guess, you G? K
Well you shouldn’t have a problem meetin’ Pimp C
The operation, connect four, it’s not a game when we pop out
If he ain’t get the clue, he in trouble, no rebound, get the box out
Right here blew like Twister when them Glocks out
No hopscotch: they get a number in a box when we hop out
Niggas run, bullets fly, clips drop out
Kids scream, mommas cry, eyes pop out
All my lil niggas got Jenga tatted
That mean when they come it’s to take the block out
You ain’t hear me tell Big T
“Potato on the 44 for the sound to let it clap
Them mag rounds left ketchup and hash browns on his lap”
These niggas never understand me
And it makes me wanna scream
‘Cause you could get the same hash browns
That went through T V like the girl in The Ring
And you doin’ me a favor? Well cool, point taken
Well, I’ma just give him these bullets on purpose
And tell the judge I was point shavin’
Sometimes I wanna separate him, it might be for the better
Chopper like a side bitch
Take him from his better half, he gettin’ severed
Torso from his legs—will he walk again? Never!
That doctor gon’ feel like a marriage counselor
Tryin’ to keep him together
They asked me who’s the toughest nigga in New York
I figured it’s Math
I wonder how low they gon’ bury him after I split him in half
Wassup Hollow? Let’s have a man-to-man
What’s this thing with you and Lux?
I personally think you a fuckin’ Stan
At first I was givin’ him the benefit of the doubt
He just doin’ it ‘cause he bored
But then it’s like you said Lux name
Anytime any camera man pressed record
Probably had Lux jail cell pictures on your wall for decor
Got home, spammin’ all his videos
Dissed him so much it’s coke residue on the L of his keyboard
And why I gotta keep screamin’ out “Loyalty!”
To prove that I’m loyal? That’s how you get ’em like that
‘Cause I know plenty niggas that said: “My homies will never do me like that”—’til they did ’em like that!
I got niggas that’s Blood that ain’t family
And niggas that ain’t family that’s real Cuz
But you high off that same juice Steel was
From now on, movie clues is all I’m leavin’ with the kill
For example, if I gotta set it off, shit could get real
When you hear this woo!
Don’t be bamboozled, these niggas ain’t ill, but chill
A low-down dirty shame how the D’s found his grill
Them all Jada Pinkett flicks
So the tip, cops will find his head swingin’ by the wheel