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Rum Nitty vs. Cortez
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This a no brainer We got Rum mothaf**kin' Nitty...versus Mr. Flea Mason AKA Vaultez Bodega, an easy battle This n***a dead it only took a week to plan it, that's premeditated So I'ma see a bigger sentence like reading glasses Beat you badly 'Til you leakin', pleadin', "no mas papa", speakin' Spanish I'm literally reeking (Rican) havoc Clap him, then the b*t*h get loud Before Coronavirus, n***as was maskin' up [?] Slide, and you get bodied, who gon' stop me? All these funny n***as gettin' addressed; Illuminati You copy? A man die for tellin' rap lies Actin' as if he active, that's only going to get me madder (Matter), like Black Lives Give you a buck, and two quarters, the gash wide And go the other way, I switch sides on Cort' (court), it's half time Ask God, I'm labelled as a threat bangin' for the set I'm not a game, but before you play me you get stretched I'm a vet Your battles don't even make it on the 'net Bird n***a Soon as they let him out the vault you're (vulture) waitin' on his death That's on the set We slide up peelin' sh*t Fired up, get you lined up The .9 buck limitless .380 in the ankle holster I snuck inside this b*t*h wit' it If he slip, it's bustin' out the shoe on Cort' (court) like Zion Williamson Peel his sh*t Take a slug out his dome No love, get did wrong Cause you the worst with it And ya rhymes is nursery It literally seein' they scrub get put on If you look wrong We gon' slide about it No talk, die about it Diabolic Our 2 on 2? Math did all the moves, your side was silent I gotta tell the truth, he was carrying Cort' (Carrey in court); Liar, Liar I'll line you, that lesbian get stretched I'll hit her head up wit' a TEC It'll be brain particles all messy on the set You walk up and see Fit bits (FitBits) everywhere you step Reset! Game is over Gun butt, face is swollen Whip it, make it crack; baking soda Rob 'em, take Cort' (court) paper It was over a 100 yards; restrainin' order I'll smoke him, you better haul ass It's all bad I'm at ya neck when I address you, then I get dawg (dog) tagged If dude play? His skull cracked Face open, we can view inside Cort' (court), that's 2K on broadcast You better call Math, cause you done gave me a reason now Squeezing rounds Through the scope I get my point across here (crosshair) It ain't sh*t we gotta speak about Easy route, bag you up like a reefer ounce You know, O.Z. him, take the Rican out You see what we about No rappin' beef, we let actions speak I slide with the Locs, and on the set I'ma die with the The Crows like Brandon Lee Crip Street, you get pressed like six reps I put some money on ya head and you get stretched I have Cort' (half court) shot by a fan, give him a big check This west You can't keep it real yourself Suicide or I'll do the job, you decide Ain't no f**kin' crowd in the building today It's just me and you Nitty Ain't sh*t you can do wit' me .4-4 bulldog barkin' and the roof Nitty Desert Eagle See this bird, flew wit' me So f**k whatever coffin (coughing) he got just know I'm immune Nitty (immunity) Fool wit' me I'm in tune but I'm too litty, keep a tool wit' me But, deuce deuces are too risky Move Nitty This Big(g) K go Boom, Nitty Duu duu right through Nitty, you're through Nitty With two blickies...I keep these sticks together And the only thing that the doc can't stick together is you Nitty Who is he? Huh? Someone they gassed up? It's nothin' to blast punks, I up it and blast one What's in this tummy tucked is cuttin' his abs up [?], I got somethin' dumb in the can' Rum Brooklyn, yeah, my savages are starvin' Ya battlin' a marksman, I'ma tag 'em then I'ma chalk 'em Run in his crib, BAOW, get clapped in ya apartment Yeah, stairway to Heaven, you get it? The ladders do the walkin' Yeah, voice for the hood, the ratchets do the talkin' Lux, SM2, I'm carryin' a coffin Yeah, who is he? The Gun Line King n***a? He got the blick and the pipe? That's cool My clip been itchin' to snipe boy it's lit for the night I put the grip to his wife, the triggers ignite Now there's a dead body over the gun line like Biscuit in Life I blast ministers, hit 'em for spite Then administers and make sure the doc can't administer life Boy I am givin' you light They scream, "Black Lives Matter" Yeah, then they said, "All Lives Matter" So I had to cop the MAC like a picture with Ice Scratch that "All Lives Matter", y'all get it? Yeah that's a nice flip But why cop the MAC? You wouldn't like the ice pick He's lifeless, goodbye b*t*h Left with a red bottom, I spike sh*t The nickel here is priceless Tool fully, ain't sh*t you could do for fully Cause I steams sh*t, ain't sh*t you could do for me Let the heater bang, my livin' is trife and I keep a blade, pickin' (pick in) a fight; school bully Y'all don't mettle with dudes, the metal and Uz' The 30 clip make black crack 'til his melanin ooze I give you everything Boy I'm in a generous mood And even if I Chi Ali ya whole V.I.P.'s will get this whole section removed Boy, I'm just checkin' for proof that the instruments can ring and sound off, you was never in tune Boy, do not play wit' us I'll pop 'til the Glock's staining us I'm all about a money bag (Moneybagg) Yo until I knock Meghan up Shots break him up So much blood that a mop can't wake it up And then I toast to his death A bunch of rappers in black suits, his funeral lookin' like the Roc Nation [?], do not play wit' us N.O.M.E. X? I deserve a plate, I'm talkin' mad cream Don't y'all get it? Y'all was sleepin' So I served you a wake (awake) on Caffeine Yeah boy, that's mean Yeah, and I will level ya sh*t because I'm better with grips He came down with somethin'? Cool, but he never was sick The clip 'bout a foot long as my measuring stick So when I let it go "click" you can finally Crip Walk in Heaven with Nip' b*t*h I'm the most underrated, underhanded I oversaw But being overlooked creates a pen that's overall I'm trained to go to war, exposing flaws is protocol I'm doin' the favor cause even in quarantine I open doors Aye, I'm 'bout to do my sh*t once more than send him up Lord Cause he don't want war Got a couple of 'em fresh up out the gun store If I let it lick wit' (liquid) these two pounds ya done for Fluid leakin' out him Lose like 32 ounces just from one Cort' (quart) You look, just like my plug Cort' He used to send the package right through We was trappin' white too And that whip, I had hard to sell, like a salvage title I don't like you There's nothing else to say to n***as Don't play wit' killers, K's will hit 'em With brute force Bah bah, I'll do you two Cort' (court) in one spot, that's Staple Center This clip'll lake a (Laker) n***a I wish you would stunt, get a push front Dome shot him We smoke apples out a wood blunt I caught you lackin' on ya avenue You ain't even see me or look once Dummy, I had to drop on you in traffic like The Good Son Don't look dumb, you know my style No little sh*t, big grip .40 Cal', slide up on his house, Ruger torch And this sh*t get to boomin' Cort' (Boom in court), soon as I point 'em out It's goin' down Who want that smoke? Let me see I'm only supportin' my people right now, so I gotta black own...everything Let it ring You 'bout to get all the smoke And take so many punches the fans yellin' (Get off the ropes) I'm 'bout to 30 piece ole' boy I'm so sure I'm locked in, and every bar got a spin to it, like a vault door Check the scoreboard Warlord f**kin' wit' the kid is suicide You ever seen a TEC 9 (Tech-9) before Cort' (court)? It's your choice That n***a O-Red did you the worst n***a You got served wit' it and left hurt injured You was supposed to grab the stick, flash and air O (arrow), that's a turn signal Bird b*t*h you You ain't in style, this my sh*t now That's known fact, the GOAT back like Jim Brown The silencer will make you sit down I reach, you hear it whistle, then I walk off Cort' (court); the fifth foul I'm lit now And yo' sh*t? Isn't lastin' Lift the Magnum Shoot the b*t*h you grew up wit' Bullet go through (threw) her Fit; temper tantrum This is madness Whatchu think I pack a pole for? You know me, stop the battle, if we gotta scrap, I ain't rappin' no more Ya man run up, then I'm clappin' old boy Empty more than half on old boy And that's when (win) the Final Four come out the ladder on Cort' (court) I end your life wit' it, with a Russian chop' I'll let eight (ate) out the wooden stock like it's termites in it You heard right n***a Ya melon will split Put a shell in ya sh*t Keep talkin', I'll take you out Cort' (court) like you held in contempt b*t*h, you can't keep it real yourself Rap n***a He said, "revolve like a vault door"...so I put the grip in his face But when that barrel spin like a revolving door, you get it With each combo this n***a safe I told y'all, really man I told you, right now I'm from Brooklyn, and boy, I don't rock wit' frauds Honestly, ya Eyes Wide Shut you died shocked in awe Smack I told, I copped the .4 A Desi, a mop for war My stock is up that makes sense, bodega, I got a lot in store What's poppin' dawg? Yeah, I'm still here with the steel here but the goons is real near We built bricks, yeah, cause off bricks we built here But y'all gassin' the Gun Line King and that's real clear Y'all put this Crip on Cort' (court) and he a shooter? Yeah, in a wheelchair It's real here n***a {chokes} It's real here n***a so f**k it they all dead Yeah, you gettin' judged with the hammer dawg so f**k what the law says Big MAC's, the .4 spread I'm good in your hood All the ese's in the west still stand with Cortez The .4 spread, baow, the layup son I'll clap you in a coma- they scream, "Wake up punk." Body bag, the body mass? It could take up trunks Yeah you was bustin' them clips 'til he struggled with Clips How you a Crip but couldn't lace up Chuck? What?! These n***as, keep givin' me no names, that's why I'm f**kin' cursed So I catch 'em traffic, it's road rage Yeah n***a, die young forever, I'm holdin' a full gauge And if Rum in the barrel, baow, he won't age Brooklyn, I ain't frontin' for nothin', if I black out, ya soul will (solar) eclipse under the sun I told you, these clippers ain't cuttin' it son Yeah it's nothin' to pull it, now jump in front of a bullet since you always the one jumpin' the gun Matter-of-fact you f**ked Ebony? Say word, you in love wit' her son? You're 5'6" she's 6'5"- yo what's up wit' you Rum? I mean damn, I put money on both they heads, I'm drummin' for fun Prohibition, I put a band on hustlin' (Hustle &) Rum Crews get left wet, I got the rifle with power I got a gift for ya b*t*h too Baow, even ya bride'll (bridle) get showered Boy, it's on sight for this coward Cause I'm with the sh*ts, big guns, get Pop Smoke in the crib like the Crips did son And I'm spottin' every move like a Fitbit run And my hand c*cked (Hanc*ck) so play hero, I'll make a movie when the Smith lift Rum Yeah n***a, b*t*h front That's nothin', they all get a coffin when the .4 get to talkin' Man, and it's quick to pick up Rum, I had a long day at the office Boy I'll off this, the .4-5th, I'm in love with the piece and I'm dumpin' the heat Smack, it's a cancel culture, ain't nobody in here f**kin' with me Yeah if Rum on the creep, yeah I have to attack See I can scrap, that's facts but I ain't grabbin' no straps Fist fights get mixed right like I mastered the track I'm talkin' you vs. Saga, all that flaggin' is cap Facts Me lose to Cornell, how? Talkin' hammers It ain't enough to get Cor' nailed down Pounds, I blast for certain and I clap a person Don't y'all get it? I'm head huntin' and I'm stuffin' the bird like a taxidermist Scoliosis, yeah I'm crooked to the bone This fool? Get everything without lookin' in the phone If I burn money, it's gonna put you in the hole And since an election year, f**k it keep lookin' at the poles (polls) Cause I'm the most underrated, underhanded I oversaw And being overlooked creates a pen that's overall I'm trained to go to war, exposing flaws is protocol And I'm doin' the favor cause even in quarantine I open doors Aye, I'm finna cause hell Get to trippin' Pull this 25 flippin' Cort'll (quarter) land on his head like I called "tails" I told Smack, "Whoever you go and get me they gon' fail Pick 'em out. And since this the name I got. I get Cor' nailed (Cornell) The boy killed I mastered this b*t*h stop, it's like you robbin' hip hop But you can't rap a lick But a loss to me not the baddest sh*t You still gon' be able to build with this little L; it's an Allen Wrench I'm cappin', it's the worst way to lose It's gonna be obituaries with ya face on it and shirts made for you You gon' get murked, play it cool And I'll lay Fit out next to Cortez like I'm hype for my first day of school Make a move Believe me I'll squeeze Load up the mil' (meal), then let it all out, it's a Bulimia thing Get ya sh*t blew (blue) for the record like, Jesus Is King Then I let this pump air for you; a breathing machine I mean, if you get brave, you get slayed Switchblade ya ribcage Spike Cort' (court) side like a Knick game This b*t*h lame f**k I get you for? Pure disrespect I should've turned down the check like a Newport This some sh*t I'll slide through on your crew for With a tray (tre) Where I buck fifty 'em all, and finish my food, Cort' (court) I'm 'bout to do you foul now I got somethin', that you can' hear when it's lettin' out rounds Then I got this one tool (1-2), loud as an Avocado countdown Bow down or make way He said, "n***a you ain't safe." One of the coldest on this main stage Aye, aye n***a K flame, brain stain And now a miss sticks (mystics) sparks on Cort' (court); it's a WNBA game You can't hang if you won't clap nothin' And that little bit of respect you do get...is because you Math woman Act dumb and I'm loadin' up cannons You know I'm gon' blam So take cover pu**y...cause you soft Cor' (core), you just don't show it on cam' n***a, don't f**k wit' me I done had enough really You got about 10 seconds to evacuate the building or you gettin' stuck, feel me? 'Bout the time I count to six, Cort'll (quarter) get a buck fifty Or hear a loud roar Got ya partners pickin' your body off the ground Cor' You should've seen ya dawg (dog) face when they was draggin' ya body They did you foul Cor' (Falkor) You can't keep it real yourself Ah yeah...you killed yaself That last round was ass He choked So f**k it y'all gassin' this diva You got ya little b*t*h witchu? I'll drag her and beat her You jump in? I'm clappin' the heater No clue on when this couple went out; Anwar & Rita See how I can come off the top? That's proof that I'm flat out better than y'all dudes I'm never been soft too I'm from Brooklyn, n***a I inherited hard too You a legend? You've been reppin', I get it He spark tools? So I gotta get this fake pu**y sent (scent) Get it? Erykah Badu n***a we spot crews then shot crews, I'm reckless when the TEC's appear Don't you get it? A hole in ya chest blow through, now that's central air Yeah, I done left my peers, dead for years and end careers Now the only thing left, in the end (Indian) was a Trail Of Tears Yeah, n***a, more homi's All sloppy with bullets in your body f**k a news report, the only report is an autopsy You reppin' two crews? Yeah that's cool, I'm catchin' more bodies Geechi, Top, Saga- makes sense you're my fourth Homi Get it? Dawg copy, what type of action you on? You a Crip? You do drive bys? You clappin' the chrome? Yeah that's cool I do a drill and I miss? I'm spinnin' back on the block, yeah n***a the static is on I'm comin' back for the 4th Quarter; Patrick Mahomes Yeah boy, what type of status you on? I align them triggers Big MACs, click clack, I'm online for killers Got me lickin' at Blood, try me killer Fist of Fury, boy I done boxed Wilder n***as You shaky, please boy, you crazy wit' a drum But I'm raisin' wit' a gun Your whole delivery it shows that how you shaky wit' a gun Nitty, you a bum, everyday we flex Paralyzed from the waist down, I got crazy texts He gon' rehab for months, everyday be stressed For this Crip to walk again it took baby steps Step boy, cause I know you a fraud aye Don't y'all get it? If Flea get ticked then my dawg (dog) spray You butchered Conceited's whole style; all day You need Machines and West Side Gun(n)'s to do it Con' way (Conway) Dawg wait, this act's a façade I'll get a battle rapper washed and start scrappin' dawg Run out bullets? Gun Line King? Stash the rod And be the first n***a swingin'; Jackie Rob' n***a, MAC round blast, pat down fags Y'all whole delivery, I'll air out ya background fast Boy! Trolley trains, [?] sh*t bags, the cap gon' blast Trolley train, I still gotta track down Ave Yeah boy, if I doubled these (D's) b*t*h you know, that's I'm O'fficial, Rum I won't quit 'til her shirt say RIP wit' you Rum You was lit until I split a Crip into son Had a Phoenix with ya body found into sun And the remains were found by who? His two sons Boy, I'm talkin' 'bout used guns I pull up he way to visit, and any day you get it Don't y'all get it? I plot with guns, I'm spottin' Rum Watchin' Rum, yeah I'm babysittin' Yeah the .80 kickin' I drilled this nerd Don't y'all get it? Half Moon clip, steel (still) get curved Boy, ya leg twitchin' and you move, I drilled this herb And all it took was one shot Rum and it killed the nerve Of this b*t*h ass, f**k the chit chat Skip that, you lettin' the Sig' clap? Like them fake gold fronts it's big cap My fist crack? Jawbones bloody, ya sh*t black My blick blap Stomach wounds gettin' covered with big tats Stomach shot, baow, the doctor can't staple ya skin back So I gotta stitch ya then add a zipper to sit flat on ya six pack Quit that I'm the most underrated, underhanded I oversaw And being overlooked creates a pen that's overall I'm trained to go to war, exposing flaws is protocol And I'm doin' the favor cause even in quarantine I open doors
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