[Round 1: Mike P]
Y’all think B. Dot fire, right?
Well, I guess that’s what them likes get you
You know this battle is kinda like the building
The heat is on and you ’bout to have some serious Mike (mic) issues!
What, y’all think I can’t freestyle for nothin’?
Boy, I’m wild seasoned
Geechi battled just now, I start a TEC (Tech), half the crowd leavin’
No time wastin’
Though this a waste of time, I figured I’d shake up with the best
This is “disrespected” versus “can’t seem to get respected”
And well, that’s a problem I need to take up with the rest
Until then, I’m in Cali, shiieeet, I took a- pay cut just to flex
Parallel universe, you believe in it?
You here to try to Trump a white man and I’m here to Wake Up Mr. West
It all starts, with a Glock spittin’
Iron, Mike versus the Vegas, the kid like ‘Pac did it
Born Legacy Supreme, R Streetz
‘Cause by the third went Top missin’
We two different elements, separated
And Kemetics, is where the plot thickens
So excuse my punctuation, mark
You half-assed; semi colon
Pause, that’s for people thinkin’ Dot different
Nah, are you progressin’ or talkin’, you either build or boast
Aye, I (AI) flew to West World, Bernard told me to kill the host
With steel lines, to heat up a square, he a radiator
Fuck a knife fight, we ain’t joustin’
What I blew (blue) knock red off his pedestal: American Gladiators
I’ve seen people tougher than you, and you ain’t built like ours
You lack Courage, dawg (dog), and I use this (Eustace) bag just to kill a coward
Your queen? As beautiful as a rose, and I love pickin’ flowers
That box, the most exciting place to bust (bus) and drop in: Tilted Towers!
Fortnite bars!
B. Dot what you gon’ do wit’ me?
I’m meal toting, max shield potions, holdin’ two 50’s
BAOW, that’s what he get for bringin’ me the drama
Cheapskate, shitty teammate, he ain’t see the Llama
Bro you too paranoid so I doubt your performance
All you gon’ do is cry, nothin’ but a clown we recordin’
Whatchu gon’ talk about? My suicide?
Bro, that sound get aborted like, “What you knew Blood?”
I drew Blood without the extortion
Fuck a B. Dot, I’ll murder the whole Left Side Connection
Buck-50, he gon’ need his whole left side connected
I booked your funeral soon as I booked my Airbnb
The knife I got, IHOP, it go from P to B!
Or the Desert E, fire into this queer chin
He took every single round, y’all know I can’t get a clear win
Fear him? Boy, I played Suge since I had a shot drawn
Now it’s a shot drawn, I’m in front of your house, now it’s your door gettin’ knocked on
Versus EK, it looked like Smack you was about to pop on
But we copped the pay-per-view
Just watch the battle live…Dot calm (.com)!
Get tossed, somethin’ without the pen
But fuck a credit scheme, let it scream
Back of the whip, you playin’ Kennedy
I clown on you, aim down on you, I’m in a mezzanine
Gat named “The Saurus”, deuce deuce, Two Time Everything
I let it ring
Boy The Beatles can’t even Let It Be
Your girl wanted Nuttin’ But Love, I gave her Heavy D
I crack a bottle on Blood head, I’m spillin’ Grenadine
I’m just comparin’ Kemetic Science to kinetic energy
I’ll weave, put Dot to sleep, he’ll need pajama pants
The only dude annoying to Mike would be Banana Man
If it’s work involved, I’ll search for Charles, that’s an anagram
I’ll stomp your Cali ass the fuck out, you’ll get the Hammer Dance
I didn’t have much room to do the Hammer Dance but, keep comin’ with that lost mentality
Your ignorance is leadin’ to your loss in salary
You here to act like you still a boss and battle me
I’m here to put some life into your false reality
Time
[Round 1: B. Dot]
Check this, you’ll remember this
Who wanna scrap wit’ me? Mikey P
Tell your boss to show me the money get your Jerry Maguire on
I’m known for being fire on cam’, you known for being on cam’ gettin’ fired on
L.A. let’s turn this riot on
New York, we done studied the game tapes and we see why y’all bang late
See a nigga like me wouldn’t let you slide, and why (NY)?
Because initially, mentally we not in the same state
See out east, you told Suge he was the biggest known slob since Biz and Owens
Blood is you dumb?
Do you know where you at?
Do you know where I’m from?
Didn’t you say “Fuck the West”?
Then called a triple OG that started Westside Ps a “slob”, wow the disrespect
The irony, I wanna Just Do It but then I know I won’t get the check
Respect the west
What the fuck you know about gangbangin’?
White boy from New York, middle class maintainin’
My niggas really in the field, the only shit you kill is Call Of Duty game playin’
Callin’ out Brizz and Roc, like you top tier main stagin’
This neanderthal only want to battle y’all to show who’s really Cave Gangin’
I came sprayin’
Haters gon’ say it’s Photoshop when I come through with more machinery than Robocop
They’ll take your bitch for ransom, you gon’ have to put money on your heart like them weak ass clothes you rock
The flow don’t stop
Think Pacquiao when I pack him out, givin’ him the same treatment Cotto got
Or flash with the cannon (Canon), you here standin’ next to me brings a whole new meanin’ to photo op’
The fo’ fo’ cocked, and I’m shootin’ big bullets, it’ll feel like a boulder block
And some guys only about that thing, and when it sing, you better duck like you know the wop
You know this Dot, I’m only here to address you Mike
“You had a lot to say about a league you said yes to twice.”
That’s that slave mentality
Thinkin’ I say “yes” to a league ain’t gon’ sway or rattle me
Nigga I say “yes” for the west, show some respect, if I ain’t accept this there ain’t no way we battling
Thanks for travelling
We heard the hype just figured you for the nervous type
Thought I had a different opponent til I noticed they subbed you in the game and had you throw on a jersey, Mike
Well this gon’ be American History, X-cept we gon’ change the script and word it tight
Give you the curb to bite
Rest in peace Emmett Till
We’ll tie this white bitch to the front of the whip, I’m reversin’ life
You gon’ reimburse them, right?
I mean they paid for the flight I’m sure the purse was nice
You was racin’, they told you “be patient” but they didn’t explain you was goin’ under the surgeon’s knife
You suburban white, and write like you live some sort of urban life
From New York, all the way to L.A., do it BIG, well that’s just gon’ get your Suburban striked
I’m in an urge to fight, they done put a real life in front of the poltergeist
So I’m checkin’ you with the one, two like I think it’s a broken mic
I get up close to strike, poke him twice, razor sharp Logan knife
With that over right then it’s, “Oh goodnight.”
White boys always wanna wrestle, til somethin’ open they chest like Hogan hype
You better hold on Mike, you the mom that’s driftin’ here with the paradigm shiftin’
On URL, where all the stars are at the top of the mountain, actin’
Paramount Pictures, KG, where is my digits?
After this we gon’ talk bro’
This will be the last time you get me for the cost low
I figured they’d put me in front of the wigger cause they gettin’ somethin’ big for the cheap price and he used to workin’ at Costco
My fault though, for tryin’ to help you Mike
You said I wanted more money for this battle, well you right
Was tryin’ to get you more money too, but that’s what they not gon’ tell you Mike
You’re so connected to URL
You think you’re free but can’t see how they handheld you Mike
No Henny bottle but they treat you like canned goods the way they shelf you Mike
I see you’re not gelled too tight
All kind of cracks in the guy cranium
I mean, what kind of (Wakanda) shit is this?
Smack is T’challa sendin’ a white agent to the sky to stop Killmonger from passin’ the Vibranium
Ain’t no savin’ him, Smack I’ll drop another third round, don’t make me go there
I find it Strange, you can’t create fire rounds but get to jumpin’ in my world outta nowhere
This is no fair, y’all done stuffed dynamite inside of the wheel barrel
And rode in front of battle raps Will Farrell
All this jokin’ and fuckin’ around, and still can’t make it baby, you should feel sterile
Why air you? I’m not here to let a gun go blam
I’d rather pull out, pistol whip him in the mouth
You know, smack his lips like Twork when his punch don’t land
I got a hunch though fam’, you gon’ be like my last competition
I’m used to the opposition and hit the fans with the proposition
Like, “B. Dot is street and he conscious. And that’s conflictin'”, a sick disposition
Now I just fuse my future with my past
He once tried to decide on a half, that ain’t gon’ help you get no split decision
This for my Crips in prison and all my Bloods behind the walls in the wicked system that don’t fit this description
Yeah you know this Matrix hates us
All these codes I’m tryin’ to Control/Alt/Delete and shift encryptions
Even your team’s indifferent
I talked to Mickey on the phone he was like, “Dot I don’t know. You got superlative raps
But Mike’s pen’s gettin’ better. He could Trump you.”
I say, “Well that’s fake news. The wrong alternative facts.”
And besides, Mickey gon’ be turnin’ his back the same way he did with Joe Budden
Watchin’ his homie gettin’ punched on and looked away like he don’t know nothin’
Y’all hoes frontin’
Yellow Tape Gang, which one of y’all gon’ throw fists and clap?
Nigga, Bonnie Godiva’s the only G from your Unit we’ve ever seen go get the strap
You better roll a clip back
This that black African power
And if these was your last days Mikey, this is your last hour
[Round 2: Mike P]
I thought to touch on your Kemetic Science but my mind was stressed so I diverted
More to pure shit, and tell that every line complex, a wordsmith
To this herb shit, there is nothin’ that this guy can test
And if his people wanna jump in, I’m splittin’ Dot Mobb in half; Shine vs Rex
Let’s turn up
Flame life, I’ll put the heat on ops
Use your pussy white angles, Mike P no cop
Get K.O.’d you wouldn’t see those shots
A fist to lame, it’s Twister game, so when son hit the floor, hands and feet on Dot
I’ve been the nicest
Long before Thanos I’ve been a Titan
Spine shot, he start convulsin’, that’s meningitis
Brush me wrong, it’s a Scope in your mouth, that’s gingivitis
Shoulder shot, he can’t lift an arm up, that’s tendinitis
I said I ride with a pocket pistol, miniature, but I like the hammer
It’s small, but does the job cause it’s the little things in life that matters
I snuck it in the venue, they ask how the GP did it
It’s easy to sneak a pistol in if it’s 3D printed
I flew here, for a tag, puttin’ you up in a grave
DNA, with the piece, I can maneuver with a K
Home court what?
Bitch you ain’t know what I would do up in this place
Corky Romano, you here for a white bag but it blew up in your face
Oh you fire in L.A., but let’s be honest, you don’t stack bars
Canada vs Verb, boy you barley even scratched god
You terrible at road trips, wack god
You hate to camp so when you cook you only comfortable makin’ fires in your backyard
How dare you test the pen, like you do it better
The white skin peel in L.A. I ain’t used to the weather
For a band, I’ll pop punks in Cali without Rufio
You shit on the tree and URL, but never gave yourself room to grow
You diva, vs Mike I’m Tyson, with what I do to hoes
Bullets Caillou, bald heads goin’ through your clothes
I’m evil Ryu, no remorse for what I do to souls
And if I try you, I’m puttin’ ten on your back like a [?]
Silly wit’ that
If I Reed Dollaz I get silly wit’ cats
Two rounds is all I need, I Surf verse Nitty a cat
The bulldog bitin’ and I don’t give a shit if he strapped
Soon as he feels the nips he (Nipsey) Hustle
But I turn back around for a victory lap
You wanna argue URL? Fine, let’s talk holmes
Issues I had, I hashed out wit’ ’em, not cried and throwed stones
And any argument, can end wit’ a knife
So point chrome, cause even if I lose this debate, I still drive the point home
Be honest, thank me for doin’ this in the west for you
I could’ve extra killed you in New York, but I want the best of you
I took the disadvantage, cause I ain’t scared like the rest of you
Nobody said “yes” to you, pussy I requested you!
And the fact that you here right now, I’ve lost respect for you
But I guess it’s “Fuck URL” til URL throws some checks to you
Time
[Round 2: B. Dot]
They say Mike P punch crazy, CRAZY, Mike
The dopest white battle rapper on Smack
How is that?
You not even the dopest white battle rapper in your camp
I mean it’s quite apparent that you ain’t fuckin’ with Aaron
And white battle rap that’s such a small space to be sharin’
It’s gettin’ over crowded but you allowed it
Can’t put your trust in connivers
Jealous Ones Envy, especially when you see them on the road to success
And that’s a car you was just in (Justin), Driver
Now you the hitchhiker searchin’ for the newest road
You blew it bro
White Battle Rapper On Smack was your own little world
And we stopped watchin’ your Truman Show to view Glue’ and Joe
But I brought the coolest scope
These fans deserve a brand new optic
I’m here to widen the lens and zoom in on the microscopic to show y’all how Mike views profit (Prophet)
We all watched it, as you came in this game and changed lanes cause you had a few options
It was either Smack/URL or you could’ve been King Of The Dot’in’
Which one will get the views poppin’?
You first made the news when dude socked him, dropped him
Boo bopped, clocked him
And that was the first time you had a few dudes watchin’
That’s when that short fuse popped in
Your Ascension in the game when dude took flight
I mean you took takin’ punchin’, in a battle, to whole new heights
But I can’t understand you Mike
Cause fuck a contractual obligation
Let somebody snuff me, I’ma pop you, that’s an actual confirmation
And I ain’t makin’ up with nobody in these battle situations
I mean you, plus a body bag will be the only thing y’all add in my Math-ematical equation
But I get the evaluation
You vs Tink The Demon was hot, but see I dug a lil’ deeper
Looked down in the grave and I seen through the plot
This wigger write like he fight for civil rights, Mike, we all agree that you not
Just cause you Rose a little bit don’t mean that you can Park here and not relinquish your spot
I mean, why not fight with ICE?
Try to kill the Wolf in a small corridor like Leonidas when he was [?]
Maybe it’s cause you know if you went up north to the cold you’d get exposed
As just another flake that blends in with the snow over at King Of The Dot
And we see this a lot
White boys wanna ball with the blacks
We go hard in the paint, they never seen on the block
This is our lane
We draw the attention and only dish it to wiggers when we needin’ a shot
But believe it or not
If you go over there with ‘Ganik you’d do damage
And you know this, right?
But see it’s all part of his gang, he claim he wanna stick to his Genesis
Play Station’ed in his slot where he can be this token white
Keep focus sight
You gotta see through the bloggin’, Facebook lies and how he markets it
I got foresight to see through Fort Nite and now you put up a shield and build
Fortifications to hide behind and not get your target hit
It’s obvious, your demo is in the graphics
That’s how you grow audience?
Well where we from this system don’t work for us
That’s why we blow cartridges
The awkwardness, all fusin’ to a dude that use video game schemes and make y’all applaud the shit?
But y’all wouldn’t accept that from a nigga like Dre Vishiss or Geechi Gotti, some of the hardest Crips
But you was able to hit Tink wit’, everything on the move list
That Hadouken!
That you did!
Only got approved when
We gave you a pass and didn’t laugh at the bullshit
‘Cause of your skin
And you knew this
And I’m just gettin’ it all of my chest like a nudist
I thought I figured out these squares
It appears I’m still havin’ trouble with the Rubix
So the tool is
Makin’ arrangements to blossom his top like a tulip
Pussy nigga, two lips
The heat will make him cool it
You can catch a blue flame, that’s that Crip and that Piru shit!
You’re foolish, thinkin’ I’ma just let you walk into hip hop
See the goal he has is to stand in front of the net, upload a clip
If it’s funny or controversial his shit pop
And what we do? Give him a Lil’ Pump, some aahs, a Lil’ Uzi Vert to the tip top
Got these pussies suckin’ they own dick in the race to get to 69 position
Well, this is that pit stop
Get your shit clocked
More niggas flamed up than what the Dips got
Big Dot, soon as I went viral, there was a two year big stop
URL contract, sign that, shit nah
New slaves, but I know how to evade the slipknot
Hitchcock, put him in the Twilight, fif’ cocked
Silencer on it, the shit’ll sound like a rim shot
Who hot? Him not
Grown man? Kid not
Barrel pointed at an undercover cop like, “You killed Big Pop”
Gridlocked, what make you think you can beat me?
My nigga, I studied etymology, and honestly
I know your last name is pronounced “Poo-lee-see” and I digged deeply
Do the research like I’m supposed to
In Italian, “Pulice” means “something small and annoying”
Well, what a fitting name for what he means to this culture
And y’all chose to, put the updated PCs in front of the archive
Not smart, guys
So when I separate ’em, think segregation, ropes around each wrist, we pull ’em apart tied (apartheid)
This the dark side
Nah, I ain’t Brizz but it’s gon’ be a Raw deal when the fif’ flyin’
Send half the clip at your clique, have your men dyin’
And send you eight (insinuate) for anything you was implyin’
You gon’ die tryin’
This that Black African Power
And if these was your last days, Mikey, this is yo’ last hour
[Round 3: Mike P]
I said, you know what? L.A., this ain’t even about competition
Look, y’all, he’s charged with fallin’ in love with the URL system
Think of this as a filmed inquisition
I’m ’bout to give y’all a chance to make sure you don’t dance around these topics your deposition
True or false: LA been runnin’ battle rap?
True or false? Y’all been lined with some killers
And every year, URL throws an event around this time for the realest
Danny, Diz, Nitty, Geechi, EK: these fuckin’ guys are gorillas
Puts in all the damn work without cryin’ a river
Now, hear me out, cause he got the feelin’ he a side piece, he insecure
Convinced that he’s missin’ out on a ride, sweet
He Drake new album, and this goes way beyond rhymes deep
Cause A: he raps great, but you turn a little soft when you start to side B
Dot! Find peace
Cause a lot of great writers like you done came and went
The more you show your cards, the more give them different ways to vent
Like your contradictions
And we gon’ touch on all those mind games you pitch
Like how you don’t care about battle rap, but you cared that you weren’t the main event
Main event?
Bro, co-main event, I wouldn’t hand you that
You said you cared about music more but you couldn’t even handle that
My first song in five years, SMOKED YOU, you couldn’t even handle tracks
Dawg, how you from LA (*chk-chk*) and you couldn’t even handle Wax
Don’t even answer that
Address the switch in your steez in that third round vs EK when you shit on the league
I do not get what it means
How you were shittin’ on Beas’ for puttin’ Diz on the stage but you got Diz on your team
But ooooh
FACTS
Let’s just ignore that from the pseudo-righteous race-baiter
Besides, it was a haymaker
We felt that shit a day later
Even though it was bullshit lies while he was starin’ y’all down
Cause he a jealous ass rapper that likes to pander to crowds
Let’s get to panderin’ now
Grippin’, I’m eyein’ somethin’ crazy
He froze up, I rose up, you’ll be lyin’ in the daisies
The tiny little snub nose, got him flyin’ to the gate
He, thought he was incredible, too (Incredible 2), ’til he saw the kid firin’ (fire in) the baby
I see right through all the bullshit that this cat scan
Colt .45 and I use it, as a back hand
There’s levels to this maze of a game, so let the gat blam
I’ll ghost ’em, ’til he blue
‘Cause what’s a Dot compared to what I pack? Man! (Pac-Man)
I heard of his troops, there’s birds to recoup
Got in the Benz, drive it and park
I peeked in his house, then seen him get out
Dot on the ledge, got out the car
I’m turnin’ to Mook if I’m yearnin’ to shoot
Plot on his death, shot on this mark
Gun to his head, then one in his chest
Dot on his head, dot on his heart!
What UP!? What up!?
I said, I’m gettin’ at him
For your rhymes, I’m airin’ at a mark
Donald Trump: the .45 splittin’ families apart
Fuck this guy dumpin’, if Dot want it, the blade Tony Hawk
Six buck fifties, cause I’ll spin ’em into a 900
So keep comin’ with that lost mentality
Your ignorance is leadin’ to your loss in salary
YOU here to act like a boss and battle me
I’M here to put some life into your false reality
[Round 3: B. Dot]
I wanna share somethin’ wit’ you Mikey, I’m not sure if you remember this
It was back in the day when we would exchange, you know, have our little differences
You DM’d me an apology, that was man of you, but it was interestin’ how you ended it
“Oh you fake Lux you wrong for bringin’ the DM up.”
Nah nigga he was wrong for sendin’ it
But let’s get into it
We gon’ skip right to the end
Where you say, “As one of the good Europeans, it’s hard to not to instinctively defend.”
Now, European instinct, that’s what I wanna talk about
The first two rounds was the head shot, this the autopsy after we chalk him out
Let me walk you out
So there’s no confusion about evolution
We migrated out of Africa up into Europe, I’m talkin’ archaic humans
Used to the humid, ’til we get caught in the cold, grey skies
UV rays couldn’t get through them
In order to receive vitamin D that was heaven sent we lost melanin and turned into mutants
And that biology, fucks wit’ your psychology
Appearance started to change and the mind gets caught up in rage
Dirty Europeans, until my ancestors the Moors went up into Spain and Italy and taught ’em to bath
Just flip through the page, this is history
This ain’t facts I gotta spit, now look at you
Another dirty European gettin’ washed up by an African again
I don’t battle rap to win, I’m here to contend with the ancestry from which you descend
Them Greeks that came over to speak on my people
Called us “Ethiots” which meant “burnt skin”
And y’all want some type of utopia
Well, I want revenge for Ethiopia
The only un-colonized country on the continent, that’s why your Italian ancestors bombed the shit
And I’m astonished wit’, the fact that blacks don’t see we been beefin’ with Italians since that Hannibal/Carthage shit
So it’s that mobster hit
Dome shot to the back of the head, face first in a pasta dish
You make me sick
The fuck did you do to beat me when you a descendant of Mussolini?
Drugs? You use ’em freely
I highly doubt we can go that route
Every cell I see got brothers doin’ years for grams of kiwi
Y’all peep me?
Haile Selassie, I know you prolly ain’t catch it
But I practice ancestor worship, I’m just invokin’ the spirit
I’m ’bout to hold up this mirror
I want to see yourself through a scientific perspective
Your genetics? Recessive
And that’s what lead to the depression durin’ your early adolescence
You’re tellin’ Suge, “My depression had to do with my pops.”
You slit your wrists and got me up here killin’ time, I guess we both on suicide watch
What should I do to my op’?
Let the heater fly? Nah, I’d rather slit your wrist
Put another white bitch in the tub, let him bleed and die
Me and 12 other niggas you battled can be the 13 Reasons Why
Aye, my nigga, we can’t slice no even pie
You make a hit, run base get home safe, don’t even slide
We hit and miss, that’s three strikes, get life without even cryin’
You don’t see this crime?
All these obstacles, you never got accustomed to the cops accosting you
Constantly, to the point you wanna take off the black skin like it’s a costumed suit
What was so hard for you?
Couldn’t meet daddy’s expectations of graduation from them Harvard schools?
Pops was hard on you
So you went psychotic, turn to narcotics, sniffin’ lines, pill pop and shoot just to get him off of you
You lost your screws
Thoughts confused
Ever since daddy left you’ve been alone and suicide been in the dome
You do all this bloggin’, then wanna hide behind madness and use drugs, but when in Rome
We can’t skip the tone
Yeah you rap black but still act Vic Damone
Mike my words can never hurt you
But you an addict and you know what they say about sticks and stones
Let’s switch the mold
I’m not even from New York, but I know the history of the mafia that put
Drugs in the black communities that fuck nigga’s mamas up and put nigga’s pops in cuffs
Didn’t want to sell to your own communities so y’all cut deals with black drug dealers to get the profits up
I can take you on a crash course on how they dump drugs in LA and came back around with the armor trucks
Put us on smack to kill us, now you on Smack gettin’ killed
Nigga, karma sucks
But, be honest brah, would you swap wit’ us?
Would you trade your life Mike and give up your white rights?
To be reincarnated as a young black durin’ the crack era of the ’80s when the crime spiked
It was beyond trife
They gave us guns and drugs in the dark, but in hindsight
What an evil genius, to make us move weight like limestone and put us all under that limelight
Now, would you trade your life Mike, to be a young black always under suspiscion
Get arrest cause you fit the description
Three years in prison never given a sentence
Solitary confinement, gettin’ beat by the C.O.’s and the inmates, and all you do is defend it?
Til you finally release cause they couldn’t provide evidence or give’ em a witness
Are y’all seein’ the difference?
Between your suicidal admittance you spit in your writtens
And a brother like Kalief Browder who needed relief, but couldn’t get it ’cause the tone of his pigment
So suicide was committed
I don’t condone it, but I get it
Here’s a way for you to relate:
Think of a game where the whole system is against you, but you can’t remotely control it
You’ve been chosen for moments
Your childhood trauma you went through you want this culture to notice is bogus
You sold weight on the corners, copped some piff, wasn’t “stop and frisk” ’cause a white boy like you would never be noticed
You from Long Island, complainin’ cause your pops was controllin’
He was on Riker’s Island, detained him cause a backpack was stolen
I’m just exposin’ the motives
White men lack resources so they go around stealin’ wealth
Genocide, then when all men have died, he turn the gun around and kill himself
How destructive of you
And you wanna bring all of that into battle rap, how fucked up is you?
Man this culture needs substance from a brother, like me not substance abuse
I don’t fuck wit’ you dudes
I got no empathy for white male misery, somethin’ gotta give
Rich whites wanna kill they selves, poor black just wanna live
This shit is sick
If you ask me, battle rap deserves a better switch
Like you should’ve died when you slit your wrists, Young B should’ve been never hit
You are evidence that white rappers are guests in hip-hop, never residents
Don’t insult my intelligence
Claimin’ you culturally relevant cause your suicidal embellishment
I’ve been negligent, but now I’m back to cast out demons like the Exorcist
The black man is god Mikey, and as always, the white man remains devilish
This western shit
And this that black African power
And if these was yo’ last days Mikey, this was your last hour