[Round 1: Rum Nitty]
You finally made it back huh…
Good, now you can shut yo’ big bitchin’, cryin’ suckin’ dick to get back on Smack
Reneging on your contract lookin’ ass up
I’m bout to kill you in the building, I don’t care who they got on camera winnin’
Cause all these tickets got copped, to see us black live…that’s what matters
Nigga I get at you bitches, I ain’t gotta ride with a TEC
Cause I’m intending to (10 and 2) put hands on Will (wheel) like you drivin’ correct
I don’t run from scuffles, I’ll knuckle up you
I’ve been with it, walk up on Crippin’ and have Blood running from you
Big ass Eagle and a MAC, you don’t want the trouble
First the .50 point then the ten assist I call it a double double
Bust it, take too many shots, then it’s game over
After that, I hit to wake up Ill…that’s a hangover
I come back with straps killin’, back to back, two fours
Buck out the Cadillac Williams
But I got a chop’ that I open heads with
Fuck Shine! This K got a “I know he dead” kick!
I’ll body that nigga, you copy that?
Vehicular homicide, I’m a Pontiac killer
Damn homie, in U.F.F. you was the man homie
Fuck happened to you?
You had opportunities too, Smack gave you the shot but you didn’t sink in
Make sense, he from Michigan, when he lead you to the water of course you didn’t drink it
I’m greasy, I pull out heat for something small
Like over a dime ‘n nick Will can (Dominique Wilkins) get 21
Or I’m reaching for the Hawk
But you pack Berettas, you gon’ clap whoever
Stop it
The shots that Will send ain’t hittin’, pussy: ask Ciara
I’m in your city with a silencer, you can’t hear me when it’s blowin’
Let it peel in the Yak, hit his roof: he didn’t even know it
I’m locin’, keep all personal shits out your lines
You copy?
‘Cause you droppin’ dirt can really turn into a body: that’s Remember The Time
I lift up the nine, your hype man get his mug clapped
I’ll do a square dirty hanging behind Will (wheel) that’s a mud flap
But the fans dick ride him, like “He’s a vet, he spit fire.”
Well watch me O.D before the season, nigga: Len Bias
Don’t try it wit’ us, couple sticks when we slidin’ up
2 Ks hittin’ everything like when the sliders up
But you’re a shotta right? Stop the hype
‘Cause soon as I bust a move with the four, Will skates: I’m Hitman Holla nice
No respect for him, I’ll X you out have your set mourning
Pen, you let Ill in Team Homi? I should give you lead Poison
I got the little nine, compact, mini size
Ditch that, the shit I ride back with BIG: Hypnotize
We all strapped, shit’ll fly, niggas live
Even my miss carry (miscarry), you won’t make it out this bitch alive
I came back with the K out, this is a prison escape
I’ll put one up north, then your Attica breakout
Get laid out, that little piece won’t make the kill
But the shit I carry under would, then let Jesus take the Will!
I’m fo’ real
For real, you can’t keep it real yourself
Nigga, suicide or I’ll do the job
You decide, kill yourself!
[Round 1: Ill Will]
What in the fuck happened?
Never mind, I don’t wanna talk about the shit, I hate that
Y’all motherfuckers O.D.’in on Rum, cause y’all ain’t have no straight Yac
My nigga Zay had a “Nino on the roof” line against you
You tweaked it and said it to Ave to take my nigga’s spot
It’s like my mans own a car dealership and you a thief…
Seeing this how you stole from my nigga Lot’
You good in the small room, get on the big stage then a nigga like Rex kill you
How y’all gon’ put dude on now?
Another Crip nigga scared to catch a body, that’s Snoop on trial
Oh you tough Nitty? I can’t tell fam’
Strap around his head, point it down at him like Quailman
Oh you tough Nitty? I bet you hardly fight
I’m in Phoenix with a nine shootin’, I’m Dan Majerle nice
You ain’t tough Nitty, I think you actin’ out
I was 15 when my mama was findin’ them same type burners you rappin’ ’bout
Between Pontiac and New Orleans? Crazy, little shit talk
Sellin’ weed on Bourbon Street, that’s a French Quarter
I don’t like none of you niggas, that nigga Mack my homie
I ain’t acting funny, as far as the east coast if you ain’t Team Homi or Wolf then back up from me
I let two fours bang, New York slang
You gon’ be a dead ass if you act a donkey
Gritty type, I’m tryna fuck Nitty wife
He mad, the piece will get him high, he’ll live a hippie life
Hit him twice
Bullets rip through tissue, leave his kidney sliced
I’m in a fortune, tellin’ these hoes to keep the strap on ’em that’s a Gypsy dike
Pussy! fuck is you talking ’bout? Where KG?
Hey yo Kevin will this power forward show you I’m the O.G that I Hawk ’em out?
Atlanta Hawks, you know Kevin Willis, power forward, O.G, Atlanta Hawk
It’s crazy cause I can pull a .40 too and land a Hawk
Hey Will check, I’ll put something in his head… It’s not a tumor
If I hit him, docs gon’ need Rum in the O.R… it’s not a rumor
If you see choppers, you gon’ need doctors
I fixin’ to put my shoe in this pussy, that’s a peach cobbler
My nigga Ray from Finkle no bullets? Dan Marino bullets, accuracy no leeway
Shit got his head hangin’ out the window while he driving, Ace Ventura on the freeway
You see this though? How they go crazy, after this shit y’all gon’ have to heighten the fee
Red head chick in Sister Act cause none (nun) nicer than me
How you gon’ fuck with me? You can’t get wit’ him
I was his gunner cause he knew I kill whether I was on stage or in the whip with him
You can’t step to me, nice weaponry, words heavenly
I told my nigga what I be doin’ when I got here
(What’s that?)
Bodying (body in) this bitch like a pregnancy
I come to your house, me myself and my beam
Droppin’ shit in your yard; Me Myself & Irene
Talkin’ ’bout how your TEC spit, nigga you ain’t gon’ stretch shit
If Will took a bullet from him, he was an extra on Fresh Prince
Nine grip, spine hit
No talking just arms stutterin’ like a mime glitch
I catch him rappin’ on his block like “Oh I think he want a Jihad”
You came to Smack fiendin’ for Roc now you got Ill, that’s Pookie in the rehab
Hey you wanna trade meat seekers, heat seekers or meat cleavers? Let’s have a gruesome time
Shotgun buck at your nose, who wanna do some lines?
I ain’t with the game, I’m really with the shit
I got proof on cam’ that I’ve been in them Troy Ave type incident
So nigga watch your tone before my dawg bring the K to ya
And have me assaultin’ (a sultan?) a west nigga like Saudi Arabia
I got different ethnic groups that I can get, to get you touched up
Fuck the Jamaican rum, I got a shot of Puerto Rican rum that’ll get you fucked up
I’m in yo’ hood, big sack, probably have a brick around me
If y’all was the Laxative Gang y’all wouldn’t take the shit up out me
Killin’ me? That got’s to be dreams
My hypotheses leans towards me turning Rum invincible and O.D.in’ on him that’s a Constantine scene
The jig up, Louisville bat fuckin’ these ribs up
KC Anthony vision gone, I can’t see how I been fuckin’ these kids up
Two timin’, I’m strapped, two .45, .357 I’m two timin’
Rum runnin’ like Lucky Luciano ’til my dude find him
Let 8 off (Adolf) before I skate off, now his jewels (Jews) mindin’
Put Rum in the back across they lines, I’m moon shining
Nigga just worry about what I’m saying, and don’t worry about what I got on
But if you is worried, it’s this dick for yo’ moms
You bitch-ass nigga!!!
[Round 2: Rum Nitty]
Y’all gave cuz from the slum slums
That dump guns in tum tums for hun-buns
Will get stupid, I’ll let this open up Ill lid or it (illiterate) air heads with a dum-dum!
I was up in the hotel, loadin’ rounds for cousin, big rounds I’m stuffin’
They say Ill in the lobby, I grab the nose runnin’, I’m coming down with somethin’
Let fo’ split him, go across your dome ’til it swole drippin’
They ain’t even recognize you was Ill, no symptoms
These niggas know I don’t play, Cain in the liquor store
When I let the .40 go, break
The Desert Eagle 24K
Think Drake label, I hold the gold bird over yo’ (OVO) face
Blaow!
The hammer burst, show you how the ladder work
Pull up with it, whoever in front get injured: that’s the Madden curse
I bag you first, try to take mine I’m flippin’
Show out what’s hangin’ off the belt next
It’s suicide if he try robbin’ William
I body clowns, death the only option now, chopper loud
Black capo, El Chapo style you copy now?
Clips hold a lot of rounds
Soon as I catch Ill, nine’ll go off: Foxy Brown
You see me spazzin’, I’ll drawn down on ’em squeeze the ratchets
Both shootin’, I line up the arms like Adidas jackets
I go live for real, so if you’re looking for a homi
You chasing waterfalls this how these bitches get bodied clear
Listen pimpin’, these shotgun shells runnin’ backs, I’ll Ricky Williams
Or a big MAC, throw 18
Will ‘ll really be feelin like a semi hit him
Use your dome, ‘for I pistol whip it
Gun butt, the ass sit on his forehead like he Jimi Hendrix
The punchline really kill him
Cause it had a BIG setup like Diddy did it
I wish a big nigga try to act live
So I can .357 one (350, 7’1″), thinkin’ he Shaq size
Scrap why? Let a hundred out the strap fly
Clip like a half moon, walk up and make you back slide
You think your man fire, I’ll cook him
Niggas know I come out fighting, Vampire in Brooklyn
Get your shit pushed in, I got hot ones and the heat still (steel)
Still I’m sayin’ if I get the Temptation I gotta let ’em Free Will
Get you slayed, the tool blaze a few spray
Put two across the front of a Yac nigga, that’s what the deuce say (D’ussé)
Fuck you! I’ll lay a pussy out stretched
The first round in your chest Ill, Rookies vers’ Vets
You vex? Fuck what you feel like, Nitty grip the steel tight
Peel twice, trust me it done killer is something you ain’t built like
I pop shit up real life, remind you of a whip in London how the shotgun left Will (wheel) right
I’m real nice, my niggas are hittin’ Michigan now
Havin’ squeezin’ in the glove like Simpson on the trial
Blaow!
All I do is clap niggas, I’m good with the Hollow
It goes through the Yac nigga, like Goodz did the bottle
Bitch I already told ’em
I’m 99% gun line the other one is the slogan
Kill yourself
[Round 2: Ill Will]
Shut your punchline bitch ass up
I mean we like it but it ain’t that often that the stuff is tough
To be Frank Nitty, I kill your kin Nitty and it’s inces… I’m just playin’, I’m ’bout to fuck you up
It’s Training Day if I come to your do’
Crooked 12 bury him, Denzel can’t get money from under the flo’
Y’all know “Training day, crooked 12, Denzel, money from under the floor” that was some slick shit
That’s the last time I’m bringing anything back, cause he be doin’ that bitch shit
Don’t talk while I’m rappin’, I’ll fight, I’ll ruin his plans
Ricky Bobby first interview, you wouldn’t know what to do with these hands
Sleep on anything that I’m sayin’ then these’ll wake him up
Treat your jaws like Debo and Felicia scrap, the knee’ll (Nia) break ’em up
He cross me, he better leave, jet speed
I’ll have my dog bothering your family, that’s a pet peeve
Big funny forty, Mo’nique I’m on some slick shit
Oh we thought I forgot the K
Bow!
Left him open minded, it ain’t my op’ to miss sticks (optimistic)
Flame his top like Ghost Rider, oh yeah the chrome is with me
Take his Face Off, nickel his (Nicolas) cage then I’m Gone In 60
I’m that National Treasure they been lookin’ for Rum
Anywhere I go I’m the bomb there
Oh you been in jail?
I lift this inmate in the sky that’s Con Air
I play the hand I was dealt, I’d rather stay in Solitaire than cut him like Spades you know I’m ’bout that life
But I’ll still pull his bitch, poke her (Poker) face and pull his card off the Gin Rummy ain’t bout that life
You wanna bang nigga? Bang
Come outside and stack in my face, I’ll let a shell burst
Break your hands and turn them C’s the other way, Jaz you want a Chanel purse?
I’m in your OG house, I’ll tell you why yo’ mama scared of me
Old .50 bustin’ in her face I’m Ron Jeremy
I got new straps, fresh prints (Fresh Prince), the semi splittin’ him
Watch Will bring these boys to men (Boyz II Men) like Nicky christening
Aye man, they promoted me quick as a killer, I wasn’t even on the job long
My arms out your arms gone, turn Rum to bob; Oblong
Oh you west west, I guess you think you 2Pac
Well I’ll shoot two Glocks and leave you two shot
I can tell your cloth and cut for longevity like when FUBU dropped
Nigga who you got? KG? Y’all niggas act like boyfriends
Which one of y’all niggas play the king?
Cause I got a Freddy Mercury .40 that’ll play lead singer for the Queen
It’s about respect tho’, it’s more than paper
I send you to watch your maker, I got a white boy that’ll put a Colt .45 in Rum, he want a boilermaker
I ain’t playin’, I ain’t got hit him
Ain’t no need for dumpin’ the heat
Traffic in China, your chin’ll get stuck in the street
I’ll hit your papa with the pump, this shit fun believe me
Niggas who think they buff get bagged well done and easy
Rum ya cheesy, but I got something in the plans
Two pistols, so I brought something for your mans
Spider Man sex tape, you’ll be fucked on the web if I come (cum) with something from the hand
I’m berserk, come to your house your wife alert
But you gon’ see the riffle first
On God you gon’ lose everything in your core in the end (Corinthians) but this ain’t a Bible verse
You testin’ my patience bitch, Smack ain’t make this pick
I’m Pontiac mixed with a little bit of revelation shit
My man blast from his (blasphemous) left and right like a reckless Atheist
You know what I’m sayin’ bitch?
My niggas pressed to get at you
Oh yeah they know you shook, they can see it in your glare
They pressed to get at you, president statue I set ’em free you’ll be lickin’ (Lincoln) in the chair
Nigga, who you barkin’ to hoe? The Larkin do blow
I keep pullin’, it look like a ten year old walkin’ Cujo
I see myself, all in hoein’ your clique, smokin’ yo’ shit
Foldin’ yo’ whip, .22 to your daughter, .44 to yo’ bitch
Then I give you a ring from another number like, “Bro’ I let my phone in your whip.”
Carpentry on his chest, felon with a hammer I’m dominatin’
Same shape holes fill with metal call that contemplatin’
I’m back bitch! I go well and proper
I go well with choppers, Ill Will with lamas
I turn Don Cheadle crib to Hotel Rwanda
I been fuckin’ that little skank ass hoe, her and Rum they stay beefin’
This dick keep her away from Rum more than an AA meetin’
You mad nigga? Well I’m glad nigga
Cuz I ain’t braggin’
You come to my hood and I ain’t dappin’, shots fly
Turn True Religion into a Kanye fashion
Burst pipes I doubt if you really get it shakin’ like a stripper on the first night
Y’all just holla real, just a stripper hoes talkin’ shit ’til I put the green light on ’em like Dollar Bill
Just worry about what I’m sayin’ nigga, don’t worry about what I got on
But if you is worried, it’s this dick for your mom’s mom
You bitch ass nigga
[Round 3: Rum Nitty]
They say Nitty gon’ run outta bar soon, cause I been hittin’ shit for months
Not true, Math Hoffa excuse, staying hungry is the secret to the punch
I been grippin’, dawg lift up from the side like a Pit pissin’
Fuck a scuffle, I come off the buckle snappin’; Sid Vicious
Bitch nigga get disfigured
A hundred in the clip, it lick long as a Kiss member
They gave me Clips? Nigga?
Then they brought me here with him…
Cryin’ Indian, this trash gon’ make me drop a tier (tear) again
Fuck what he talkin’ ’bout, I’m the next best pen respect that
Bringin’ in the whole west west with me all jet black
Runnin’ down on your set catch 50, I air bags come out, Will don’t wanna catch wreck with me
And I empty, nigga play if you want
And I lick a shot, soon as you call your Jamaican for Rum
Where you from, get killed over kicks
Bogus shit no flu game, but they show you how to steel (still) play if your Jordan’s sick
I tell you you a bitch, then these hands follow
Fast combo, nasty right, caught Ill in the mouth, that’s Mono
Get clapped pronto, call him up, and I leave your Jamaican smokin’ that’s Fronto
I keep shells for bitches
I makin in the point to take you out in Brooklyn so I’m darin’ (Daron) Williams
Your family’ll get air with millas
I run in and let my man end his (Menendez) brothers
I’m an apparent (a parent) killer
Leave your whole mid section cleared out
They’ll see smoke comin’ out your back Will (wheel) if I peel out
Steel out, hop out the van with that flyin’
The stick bodyin’ Will (stick body in wheel) that’s a handicap sign
Make you kiss the strap then shoot
The grill ‘a (Gorilla) get shot by the kid, that’s Cincinnati Zoo
But all your shit is basic you simple minded if Will amaze you
‘Til I get the swingin’, ball bat I Willy Mays (will amaze) you
I really blade you, have you pourin’ on screen like Wayne did it
Try to wrestle, it’ll fire from off the buckle like Kane entrance
But your strap blammin’, that’s ass backwards
Rakim Sprite commercial how your can’ jammin’
Keep your head up and see a hand cannon
This a game you ain’t chose to play like ask Madden
Two MACs at him, but if I put the guns up that’ll be bad friend…I’ll come back stabbin’
West west hashtag it
I already told ’em bitch kill yourself
[Round 3: Ill Will]
Somethin’ just fuck me up, and it just hit my head
I told the nigga I been drill, I wasn’t just born gutta
When you see Will back smokin’ then burn rubber
Don’t that sound like something he just said?
Fuck it
Nitty when I be fuckin’ your mama, this what it sound like
She be feelin’ a certain way about it cause you be in the other room
But I make the whore accept it
She loves when I bust in her mouth and sooth her throat she got me stored in her phone as “Chloraseptic”
You mad Nitty? Well I’m glad Nitty
You mama pussy so good, I won’t mind being yo’ dad Nitty
I’m talkin’ ’bout, pay all the bills
Play catch with you
Drop you off to class Nitty
Anytime I wanna give up on you as a Cripping son
I just glance over at that ass nigga
Enough about my bitch tho’, y’all see Nitty vs Steams?
Dawg this nigga said “Jordan in the flu game you’ll get the .38 playin’ sick”
I said “god daaamn!” this nigga came with his gun out with a full clip
Well listen here, you wanna be Mike?
A bald head’ll have you flyin’ through the sky with your tongue out for that Bull shit
Pull quick, one sway I’m fuckin’ ’em all up
.40 on point like Shawn Kemp bringin’ the ball up
Aww fuck, they done woke up the commando
Rambo hit him on side of his whip in the west, he ain’t had to stomp out Orlando
Cans blow big heater
Ya bitch try to run I bet the fifth reach her
I killed Magic, Ars, now you bitch? I’m the Crip (crypt) keeper
Magic killed you, Rex killed you, O-Red killed you, Danja Zone killed you
Oh but you with URL they investin’, they lovin’ you, huh?
We need a mandatory election, respiratory infection Chess (chest) was fuckin’ you up
Oh you mad nigga? Well I’m glad nigga
.45 in his face I bet he’ll beg
I’ll hate the pump ugly with this ratchet like Peggy in bed
But oh you Tom Cruise with the Risky Business
Fuck a movie nigga I’m really wit it
You got a lil’ girl, lil’ boy in ya house this handgun ‘ll turn to Chris Hanson any minute
What you wanna do?
We ain’t on neutral ground, I can get Smack hit in Traffic if I wanted to
Oh you got the .45 in your coat? And you bust it too?
This nigga playin’ with it… Rum in Coke it’s nothin’ new
Full toy, another contract kill is what bring my dude joy
Spot him at the bitch long stick, catch everything in the water like a pool boy
I hate to hit you but I got to
You ungrateful bitch you
Pretty Desi, she pretty and she made to fit you
See try angles (triangles) so I let her (letter) in the middle like a Free Mason symbol
I deserve honor
This pussy probably curve drama, I burst Llamas
I always got the strap on my like… like Verb mama
If I show the face, then you get the bookin’
Black MAC barkin’ in his face that’s Bernie on Cuba Gooding
Don’t be a menace nigga these bars [?]
But you grown ass barely can step off the porch you Bartholomew
Cans is spittin’, if I put something to his head it ain’t a aneurysm
If I hand cock on you all (wall) it ain’t vandalism
Aye yo, I’m grabbin’ torpedoes, my raps is fo’ below
I’m sellin’ that rock but I ain’t actin’ Hovito
You clappin’ at me hoe? But ain’t half of my fee tho’
I’ll put Rum in a shaky situation and ice this fruit, let’s have a Mojito
Llama out, I’ll show you what I’m about
K clip hangin’ like my dick walkin’ through yo’ mama house
Troops in the Tahoe and two cans’ll follow
Hit his right, he won’t be able to turn left like a Zoolander model
This nigga don’t hurt me when I’m everywhere the work be
He can bring 300 the snub nose steel (still) ring all over your face like Xerxes
This hoe 30, OK this where the shit switchin’
All you talk about is guns, all I used to use was guns big difference
They miss that feel that you can’t give ’em that’s why I got to switch that up
This all “I get it jumpin’ for the quarter off the top cause I-” Shut you bitch ass up!
Hoe ass nig-hey Smack I thought I was your gunner nigga
I helped keep this shit alive
Nigga Mook and Lux askin’ for 50 y’all get mad when I ask for 5?
I thought I was your gunner Smack, you said you believed in me
I put up a couple Tweets now I’m blocked from season 3?
I thought I was your gunner Smack, I was born savage
I come back you got gay bow tie and niggas and Christian porn addicts
I thought I was your gunner Smack
I really thought I was your gunner
These niggas do diss tracks see the nigga and y’all ain’t do shit to ’em
I go in a nigga’s shit and do a diss track about shit I did to ’em
I thought I was your gunner Smack, I was on my job nigga
Got all these niggas talkin’ about that dope like they can’t get robbed nigga
I thought I was yo- you know what?
I don’t even wanna put it on the flo’
Cause if I put it on the flo’, I wanna put on a show
And I don’t do interviews and blogs
I don’t stress nonsense
So this gon’ be my party and this is our
Press conference
Here goes the rules y’all included, raise your hand I’ll point at you we open discussion
Say your name and where you from then ask me your question
Y’all ready?
Is y’all motherfuckers ready? Let’s go
[Crowd]
Mo Mula from the Bronx. What you tell a nigga gettin’ beat up?
[Ill Will]
C’mon man it gotta be URL pertaining. I should’ve stopped you
If this was Facebook or Twitter I would’ve blocked you
Okay next question
[Crowd]
Why we ain’t battle on U.F.F.?
[Ill Will]
Some lame bitch shit
I made some motherfuckin’ Tweets, niggas got mad, I show up and I ain’t had no plane ticket
I came to motherfuckin’ B.E.T. like, “Laura, somebody’s tryin’ to blackball me.”
She said, “Blackball you? Oh, that’s a no go
But you know they do they shit on the regular so they had to call Sno
But I will see you my nigga
But it wasn’t on me
These niggas was mad at me cause I want to be free
I’m like, “Damn bruh, I can’t do my thang?” That ain’t-they tryin’ to do some slick shit
Y’all don’t be mad when Clips be doin’ that bitch shit
Next question! White guy in the back!
[Crowd]
Why didn’t Magic show up? St. Louis. Bennet
[Ill Will]
Oh man, you should’ve learned from him. They would’ve stopped you
If this was Facebook or Twitter. I would’ve blocked you
Last question just cause you asked that bullshit, I’m out
[Crowd]
This nigga dead why you still rock wit him?
[Ill Will]
One hundred. You know what?
I call my Jamaican y’all
I said, “Bro what’s happenin’? You know I’m waitin’ on it wit a full clip.”
Y’all know what he said?
(What’d he say?)
Nothin’ cause I gotta watch y’all to make sure they ain’t on no bullshit
Yak Town in this bitch!