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Danny Myers vs. Charron
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I could start this by sayin’, if you and I were pulled over… They’d ask for yo’ ID; wit’ me, they’d pull the Glock out But by this point in yo’ career, the race angle’s a cop-out Get knocked out Ya head’ll split wit’ lightspeed I’ll beat yo’ a** here and in a digital world You ain’t met a (Meta) n***a like me The elements might seem in your favor It seems like a benefit I don’t give a f**k if he’s white I’m tryna rewrite Leviticus Quite the lyricist Heightened senses hit Cobra strike Each bite is venomous Take a knife and dip it in nitroglycerin Slice his ligaments Dice his liver then Snipe wit’ remittance The sight was rivetin’ Psycho menaces Nights of recycled Ritalin Make his wife a widow then stab him wit’ spiked adrenaline Then use the blood to write the riddle wit’ I had white distributin’ (Ayy, n***a!) While writin’ bars, I was coppin’ product like Lobos I set sales in between the parallel lines like the Nautica logo My mind is a dojo To show you I’m the one, involve a clock I think you twelve? .45 The moment I shoot fifteen men, it’s past the time you shoulda called the cops Dawg should stop You will not out-write, reb***al, or metaphor me This a whole different territory you should be aware of, Corey I’ll air a .40 He actin’ angry, I’ll grip the instrument Knock off a fraction of his skull and get his temper sent (ten percent) I am infinite Here am I Clear ya squad Get stomped out in high top Nikes to instill the fear of God Peer inside (Ayy!) I’m outta this world; I am a alien You can’t compare a Canadian to a Palladian This what you choose as a wise move? You wanna prove you can rhyme? Cool, but who would advise dude? Even if you lose in ya prime, knowin’ who views would despise you I mean, who could survive through losin’ they mind to Lucifer’s IQ? Who do this ruthless as I do? Ain’t you cool wit’ Hitman? Everything the same when the Tec reveal Ya chest get peeled All y’all gon’ hear is, “Yett!” and steel! I’m a vet for real Y’all just watched me shoot Roc from the f**kin’ bleachers like a buzzer beater Now, everyone’s become believers like the blood of Jesus underneath us What procedure? There’s a gun in yo’ head You don’t wanna play these games Then another one Now, Corey’s in the middle like JAY-Z’s name I slay these lames Pistol-whip Now, this skinny b*t*h spittin’ out more blood than Lady Flamez (I’m too cold, n***a!) I’ll lay these thangs Billy Pistolz tried to blam on me Click! Click! The sound of his gun not workin’ is my jam, homie Whatchu got planned for me? Get me p*ssed off? Sayin’ you got money stacks this tall? We all know you rich, dawg But I learned the true value of life watchin’ my wife withdrawal Every n***a I’m with draw I’ll paint it for you if you couldn’t understand it Shots’ll hit you wit’ ease-el and put you on a canvas Even though I’m abstract, I’m past that Ks is dumpin’ Detectives standin’ around, makin’ they own interpretations of it You have NO IDEA what’ll happen if these Ks clap you The last white boy to go against shells and win was a Blaze Battle (I’m too cold!) I’m amazed at you Think ya brain is deeper? Look at the age between us I became a leader bangin’ heaters when n***as was drankin’ Zimas They can’t defeat us The only white b*t*h that can beat me wit’ a round name is Xena! The f**k I say Xena for? I just told y’all I was a alien… n***as better bring a Xenomorph (Bar God!) They do this to theyself Stupid rappers Who could match it? Do you believe in a parallel universe? (I do!) Two of the bros was fightin’; one of the homies said, “Shoot the b*st*rd.” Why would I care ‘bout yo’ Confederate flag? Where I’m from, puttin’ up ya dukes a hazard Who’s the master? This battle ain’t go the way you figured I ain’t use the race angle ‘cause this is the moment that made you, n***a I made you n***as You on the ground with this sh*t This dumb-a** n***a lucky he ain’t got another round of this sh*t (Yikes!) You exposed your wife’s demons You’re the reason her dirt comes out You get pity off her struggles Was it worth the clout? You let us know she’s an addict Kids don’t have a perfect house What’s the point of doin’ push-ups in battles when your home life ain’t workin’ out? It’s always Vicki this and Vicki that with some wordplay You Loso: you doin’ Vicks in (Viixen) the worst way You told Arsonal you wished his momma died Then you battled Rex and brought up his nephew’s f**kin’ homicide You brought Vicki into our universe, left her traumatized How’s her existence supposed to be parallel when you always cross the line? For better or for worse, that remains on the table You’re supposed to make her a promise, not make her an angle I’ll get all of ya young’uns I’m clearin’ that home out Tie up everything under 13 I’m goin’ the Patrick Mahomes route This what Charron ‘bout While you cleanin’ pull-ups or pull up ‘cause you don’t pull out It’s a blowout No doubt Ten kids, go south Turn Danny Myers to Danny Tanner He won’t make it back to that full house (Ayy!) You have ten kids; they make a lotta noise (They do, they do! That’s a personal.) You’ve never used a Trojan You think you earned your spot with Troy? Smack put you on the sidelines You got annoyed Bobby Boucher Claims he got it out the mud, dawg, f**ks with Vicki, and became URL’s water boy You were null and void vers’ Real Sikh Actin’ like Smack was stoppin’ him You’re 42 and went out with a Jersey You Jackie Robinson F**k chokin’! Getcha flows up You the Bar God? So what? He’s too cold! That’s why he froze up You’re supposed to yell and ad-lib ya lame rhymes Your universe is parallel You couldn’t come back given straight lines? That was when your wife got sober Your parallel overlapped with the baseline ‘Cause you both got Sikh and quit Smack at the same time I’ll do Myers greasy You doin’ gun lines to beat me? I ain’t afraid of Danny tre, yo I give the same performance every time you see me Last battle, you did "Can’t Touch This" I’ll r-r-remix a rapper My crew’ll rush him in the West; it’ll be a disaster Swing on him faster Stomp him the f**k out; you’re delirious after That’s when I come in like, “Uh-oh! Uh-oh! Uh-oh! Here comes a hammer.” (Yeah! Ayy!) We should put up some bread I’m a rap machine I came from Toronto to L.A. to take Danny green The way I practice, bro, put the pen to pad He has to go I’ve written to make DM disappear We on vanish mode You write about heterosexual whales You should be banned from any battle rap crew The last time I saw something inked that bad was a Midnight Madness tattoo You write your parallel universe through the process of elimination You just Google idioms and say the dumbest sh*t to make it fit a random situation Like, “Do you believe is a parallel universe? I do! ‘Cause I have a buddy named Trevor!” (Ayy!) “He had a sinus problem! His nose was running forever! They finally cured his allergies! It was in the month of November! But the next week, his body went missing in a tornado! To this day, he’s still under the weather! Argh!” Shut up! (That’s actually how you rap!) Don’t let the punchlines get to you; your stuff’s digestible You Google popular sayings and turn it to a punchline festival How are you in a parallel universe when your whole style’s one-dimensional? Do you see our parallel? Look at my past and mistakes You bring up your wife’s struggles so they react in this place And when you do that to get shine, it’s a slap in the face (Gimme some space, bro. Gimme some space while I’m killing you!) You introduced to your long-lost son like, “It’s time you got close to Dan.” Then you posted a thirst trap of your daughter? I don’t think you supposed to, fam You reunited wit’ her online like, “Daddy loves you. Can’t wait to hold your hand.” And she replied, “Thank you so much… for subscribing to my OnlyFans.” (Ayy, I said…) What, you want her to dance between battles? Those curves are gorgeous Maybe the URL could finally get a good twerk (Twork) performance You want clout off your daughter’s a** Why you postin’ pics like that? ‘Specially when she’s thicc like that? Now her DMs filled with "SMMMMM!", "Don DeMarco", and sh*t like that! I didn’t even wanna do some reb***als ‘Cause I feel like it would not be an advantage; you’d be put out of place But then he called himself an alien the whole round See how I made you gimme some space? (You wanna—! Time.)
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