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B. Dot vs. Rum Nitty
by
URLtv
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Lyrics
Alright, what's poppin' brody? Now that we got Av' recordin', I'ma keep it real For the next 12 or somethin' minutes, you are not the homie Let's get it then, it's gon' get interestin' Cause y'all lookin' around like it ain't no crowd I'm lookin' around like it ain't no witnesses Lookin' for him, finna kill a b*t*h Leave your head on ice, your body droppin' If you don't wanna be rottin', Dot calm (Rotten.com) it down Cause you'll be dead on sight (site) Empty out lead all night n***as ain't f**kin' wit' me It's gonna take more than that black power fist for you to punch with Nitty Up the milli Put a b*t*h in the bag, you ain't like that n***as doin' sh*t just for the cam' I'm from the era where your moms mom will make you go pick a switch with ya hands I ain't never pull out sticks for the 'Gram This who I am I spaz wild, still I'm careful with the delivery, it's fragile Clap rounds, man I'll spin on this whole car Push it to the limit with the max (MAC's) out Back down or run scared This sh*t is unfair We gon' make it a cliffhanger...cause it's up there and it's stuck there Guns here, we keep a pistol Pull up where you be with killers You'll get broke down, tore up Whoever trip'll lay (Triple A) out in the streets, you gon' need assistance And Jesus wit' 'em, mini MAC burst Baow, send you backwards I'm the type that'll put Dot in a box, it's a hidden password Get you bagged first Hoe n***a, no feelings sh*t'll get ugly for a b*t*h; no filter Go kill him Chest shot, Dot on the spot like Pulp Fiction Pole lift and ya melon bust, stretchin' cuz It don't stop after Dot like etcetera Set it up, squeeze the heat, you see a piece But ain't no lettin' up, we about whatever cuz Eager to clap If I can't get to you, then I'll try a sleezier tact' Have my b*t*hes drop your location and tell 'em swing where they at Stupid n***a thinkin' he's finna menage (Minaj), now B's ('Beez) In The Trap' Now clap B. Dot vs. Rum Nitty Supposed to be my n***a Got me up in here rappin' witchu But it's cool, I gotchu covered, I'm talkin' twin magazines, you gon' have your issue I've got these Desert E's from New Orleans I'm talkin' fresh out the box, brand new pistols And I'm angry b*t*h, so with these double D's, I'm 'bout to be mad official (O'fficial) What's brackin' witchu? You thought we was cool Rum? Nmm hmm, well that sh*t dead fast Either you a scary Crip or a bad judge of character The whole relationship you've been ignoring the red flags Lead blast Upon entrance, your eyes gon' light up when the Desi' c*ck or the gun to your stomach Steady, are you ready? Baow, I open the scene with a Belly shot You really not, on my level What good is an author with pen when your chapters bore me? I mean, gun line after gun line about the mask and the .40 Why I pop you, put you in the box, then hustle up another casket for shorty Y'all gon' lie together, happy endin', I got your plot extended, I just like to add to the story Y'all n***as snoring I'm here to open your eyes, I'm supplying the real view All this time wishin' death upon Rum, that made me terminally ill Yeah, I've been dyin' to kill you I'm tryin' to drill you Like catch you in the whip for real, and stand in front Shootin' up the hood lettin' pistols peel I knew this was the car he'd be in (Cardi B), now he's gon' have to fix the grill I'm sick for real I'll knock yo' whip off a cliff Into the ocean you fall to your doom You gon' sleep with the fish and see (sea) (deficiency) for thinkin' your auto immune What's bothering you? They told you I retired? Like I just up and quit? That's some other sh*t Besides, there's some other things I wanna do before I go You know, bucket (buck it) list, rugged sh*t I set the bait down on the plate Look who's biting next (necks); sucka sh*t You ain't gon' be able to withstand the heat, I think you should cover up a bit This what happen when they walk a (Daywalker) n***a into the sun Thinking he Blade just to find out he ain't cuttin' it I'm runnin' up a lick Told Beasley, add a couple racks and I'll get my rhyme on This is math and science I'm not sure what this molecule charge but it can't be what I on (ion) I ride on Five shooters in the whip, maneuvering it quick See you in your circle and 380's blazin' If I send 5 G's to f**k witcha nucleus it ain't radiation You carry ah- That's too much science, please forgive the habit I mean, under the lab coat we forget the static, the whole time Didn't even know we had it He like, "Had what?" A symptom 'matic (asymptomatic) This the baddest, n***a in the game, who the east coast claim "Well you know Rum Nitty? Son mad nice. Word up, different." Well this is the west, we expect you to be at yo' best We know you gon' turn up- missin' You got blurred up vision Type to see ya homie with a b*t*h You wait until they split then make an entrance You came and swooped his b*t*h, got a whole group and clique some attention They ain't gon' spell it out But they wondering if takin' his b*t*h was your initial interest I would've canned that I mean twisted a cap as soon as I witnessed the fizzing That's the difference And that's that black African power And if these is yo' last days Rum then this is yo' last hour Any and every line I'ma empty out this clip of mine So it's the small chance that you gon' make it out this sh*t alive Barely escape with the skin of yo' teeth if this b*t*h survive That's choppers (chompers) and ammo (enamel) Have a brush with death and it ain't no sense of dyin' (Sensodyne) Lift the .9, up and it'll smoke him Son of a gun? You get one in the head since you wanna be Loaded I come wit' a .40 This ain't what you want cuz Thinkin' this sh*t a Game, but we don't think it's 'One Blood' Dumb f**k, you contradictin' in ya lines Roc voice, "still these n***a lyin'" I keep it a hundred, on everything like military time You ain't already out ya mind? I'll beat you out of it Knocked out an awake n***a; sleep paralysis Devour sh*t, .38 will do the part, I shoot it arced Put Dot under the nose; it's a beauty mark Give a f**k who you are I'm the sh*t on the low Talk the way I be talkin' cause I really did it befo' You'll get ya chain snatched, I'll take ya sh*t off fo' sho' You know me, just wondering how much I can get off the ropes Ya b*t*h'll get smoked Tell him, "Come and try it." I'm more Malcolm than Martin, I'm the one for violence You got all your moves from Lux, that's your f**kin' idol, stick to ya guns It can only be one Loaded; like a musket rifle Son is dyin', his brother dyin', if he run up on me he shot You late, I can't be on Real n***a Time today, cause .4 on the Dot If my locs get the drop, they be there in seconds sh*t'll get eerie, scary Ancient texts (TECs) reveal the message Desert Eagle triangle resemble a pyramid reflection Got you calling out for ya god, and here come meds (Kemetics) Skills untested n***as ain't cookin' wit' me, I run it Elementary games, if you really look at it B...I be punchin' Big sh*t, .223's, clutchin' Cut him down, I got a giant chop in the trunk, that's Paul Bunyan Off somethin' You got 24 hours and I don't think you gon' make it I'm the original so by dawn Dot'll ('Don Dadda') die like Louie Rankin You in danger I caught this pu**y by surprise Shook him up, scared the sh*t outta B, see (B.C.) He didn't even look me in the eyes You gon' die Can't keep it real yourself, suicide or I'll do the job You decide; kill yaself Aye, so, yo' little tiny ass Went and bagged Ms. Hustle big booty ass? Wow, {claps} you must've really earned that I mean, props to whatever you did to deserve that Just stay on yo' job my n***a, cause I'd worked that I mean, keep her caged in or get ya bird snatched Look, I'm sure she mean the world to you my n***a But if she curved me, no conspiracy I'd leave ya Earth flat Heard that? Well that's whispers from a dead man walking And know to kill a zombie we gotta take a hit to the dome so I'm liftin' the chrome You gettin' plugged, outta nowhere, with an unexpected connection; Rick and Michonne The sh*t that I'm on? I'll turn ya head into a convertible roof if I blast shots You had the bandana wrapped around ya head, well I took it as a sign; n***a rag tops Man stop, you goin' in and out of consciousness, damn Dot You like a whole 'nother n***a when you flair up Well I don't know whether to square up or air Rum We past the point on no return So I'ma kick it off and then wave, either way you catch a fair one Compare none, I'd have went buck for buck with other writers and no money wasted I mean face it, we can't trade wits Against other pens you look basic You couldn't amount to lose change in Julian's pockets, and that don't make sense (cents) When JC pen he (Penny) showed you had nothing in store It was close (clothes), you're not adjacent Then with Iron it was the same sh*t It was gun lines and name flips Always trying to land thee punch Chasing that One like Agents in The Matrix While your opponents, they strategize, they play Chess and shapeshift Yeah you got height, far as stature in the game but you'll never come with the right angles when you're baseless Ya tasteless You serve no substance with the meal (mil') We fell if you got tre's (trays) then you should balance like a waiter with the glasses Like when we say we need "food for thought" that don't mean "cater to the ratchets" Ya actin' Yeah you point with the pen, I pinpoint, this is accurate Wow, you popped up outta nowhere A Crip with punches this is Magic You be spazzing You even got a brand new style now, wow, this is madness I'm just askin' I'm not judgin', but uh, can we conviction? A little passion? We know you got all the gunlines Rum, hats off, you be cappin' What ya lack is, an explanation for why the gun is tucked Like tell us that ya childhood was f**kin' rough Or tell us some sh*t like, in order to eat you had to rob McDonalds with two pistols for the 2 for 2 meal (mil') you had to double up I mean what the f**k? We just wanna know why you fo' fo' it Get us on the same track, writin' all yo' battle raps to strap you gon' go it What's your train of thought? Otherwise we don't know it All aboard cause (cuz), we know you kill, we just need to know loco motives (locomotives), and you gon' show it It's that black African power And if these is your last days Rum, then this is ya last hour n***a I've been all over the atlas rappin' Active, like 50 matches A couple classics A few caskets Even went and got my ass kicked But never slackin' If I think I lost then I'll say I lost and I'm hittin' practice You n***as backwards Worried about a backend and what ya stats is Wonderin' why you stagnant and the whole class is movin' past him But me? I made a name, stamped it Painted a stain on canvass we standin' So facts is, I ain't earn my respect, I snatched it Let me talk that sh*t A motherf**kin' staple in the game, boy Why you think I go so hard to protect my name for? For instance, I could've cut my third round off against Shine I was lookin' stupid on that stage, boy But I kept focus, got it together and gave the fans what they came for Never cheat 'em out what they paid for And I feel like them type of roads need to be paved more It's lesson learnin' I mean it's difficult to get up there and remember verses Most n***as would've just choked and then ended early I'm like Marlon Wayans on Above The Rim, I never Jersey You already murdered I whipped the piece up on him So keep thinkin' them Rum shots was weak, 'til I creep up on him Don't say I ain't warn him I air somethin', heavy on the scale cousin So press me and I'm clearin' sh*t out, it's the tare button Can't keep it real yourself Suicide or I'll do the job, you decide, kill yaself Battle rap is in a weird climate Y'all let n***as choke, just get the Heimlich New n***as dissin' GOATs PG's talkin' to Mook like, "Aye, aye I'm cut from a different cloth." How you gonna tell that to a n***a that designed it? Y'all mindless I think all y'all n***as linkin' up is pu**y; vaginas Yeah you need somebody to have ya back cause ya spineless I'm reminded, you a virus Infected the staff of every battle rap clan you've aligned with Another fake ass Crip, you only under the C (sea) for the look, you're scuba diving You reside in, Arizona? You a loner, n***a what gang? I'm sure the seed was planted, but bangin' in battle rap wasn't planted until the Nut' came Y'all such lames Ever since Gotti everybody in some gang claimin' Just cause a n***a got a gun that don't mean he bang stainless Besides, keepin' a .9 a must (anonymous) but to us y'all still remain nameless This game changin' You can't even link when n***as from yo' set famous Traffic 3 Dizaster brought out big Tray Dee He ain't even know you, that's Insane, ain't it? It's way dangerous How y'all drag red and blue rags into the venue Well my motto is, it ain't always gotta be on you when it's in you Don't pretend to, act like you defend blue, with ya devilish ways I get up close on the east sider (Eastsidaz) and buck it And then I step back shootin' from range You get the point n***a; Duces 'N Trayz You in a daze, confused, you don't even realize you in a maze Where the objective is not to go runnin' to God, they tryin' to turn you into Ma$e You was a saint, I don't see devils Just a battle rap banger who I don't believe squeeze metals You get banged on outside of battle rap, I'm sure the P settles Inside battle rap if it get too hot for this bi-polar, cap, that's when he try to raise the sea (C) levels n***a we rebels You just need a different aim and I'm here to provide you one You can be the "Gun Line King" but at the oppressors where a real king will line his gun They divide us up Blood vs. Crip, tribal stuff We rivals but I don't think violence is a place I need to resort to see the C side (seaside) wit' us I'm reminded of All the guys I love From the red strings in my shoes to the 'Blue Skies Above', we unite as one They don't think two gods can co-exist Well you run the C's (seas) and I bring the heat, that's Hero and Poseidon bruh I done type this up And when I text my Crips, I don't spell with "CK's" cause a n***a respect it And you should've known I see C (CC) but I guess you wasn't gettin' the message You in here with a blessing And you gon' have to acknowledge I'm the greatest I mean you can have all the gun lines Rum But what good is a gun without the knowledge to create it? You're not dangerous I know bangers, I'm talkin' close rangers Type to ask a n***a, "Aye where you from?" And don't even need the answer Baow It was a no-brainer Ya no namer They said Jesus was a carpenter Well I wasn't born in no old manger I'm just creating new grounds for you to walk upon After this I hope yo' flow changes, no mo' bangers That's that black African power And if these is yo' last days Rum then this was yo' last hour My n***a
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