Dizaster vs. Cassidy (Part 2) lyrics

[Round 1: Dizaster]
Yo that sh*t you did last night was f*cking gay!
But regardless lets get this battle underway
Because I'd rather get buried alive
Than have to deal with a piece of sh*t like you for another day
This battle is like the Alpha versus the Omega
Yeah you the start of it all
But I have evolved and became far greater
I am like Michael Angelo the archangel
If he was a dark natured art painter
Painting a picture of heart failure
Look at the all the trash In your iPod player
Running in circles on these tracks
Only to roll in a cage and you crashed like a NASCAR racer
I'm a gargantuan Hall Of Famer
On stage with a ball of chain, a barbarian on paper
Every bars tailored for your Paul Bearer
Allahu Akbar, a battling rap god slash bar maker
Bar Mitzvah glass jaw breaker
Large tray full of shots like a bar waiter
Kamehameha, bar layer after bar layer
The chicken getting plucked if I pick 'em
I'm a guitar player like John Mayer
f*ck a long saber like.. I ain't Luke Skywalker I'm Darth Vader
Armed with Vegas' claw blade may god save em -like Bart's neighbors
Stop hating you all haters
Open your dome before that long scope
Put your face in the stars like Carl Sagan
Walking around cross faded giving you those raw hay makers
You gon get bars straight from this foreigners phone like jail breaker
I get rid of your bars like bail bondsman
Since you don’t wanna sit in the yard and do hard labor
Got your memory scarred but you gon' remember this all later
Don’t worry at all player
Its all saved on your Sega memory card data
Along with the rest of your outdated Raps
Next to your packs of Garcia Vega Cigar Papers
If I catch your mama joggin' in cross trainers
I'ma go across her face with a Mach razor
Then walk away from her cause I'm a heart breaker
This ain't an arcade or a game at all crossing me on an off day is like
Tossing a piece of large bait to jaws you getting Shark-Kesha'd
A grave robber, robbin' bodies for Al Qaeda
Still surround you with so much Watts around you
You gon' feel like you got tasered
Hear a blast and see a flash from far like a massive star quasar
Laser hit you in your facial tissue like acne scar laser
For that white powder
A deuce deuce will leave little holes in your top like salt shaker
Then I'll finish it off with a big cap on your head like a park ranger
And if I don’t got it with me on DECK your gettin CUT like a Las Vegas' card player
And I ain't playing with you at all b*tch, I ain't a dog trainer
Man you hell of a pus*y for the sh*t you did last night
I could tell you nervous right now by how you moving your hands right
Yeah please don’t f*ck with me
You already know what's up with me
You brought all your homies with you because you didn’t do it without your company
Scarface.. f*ck you gon do now?
Oh, oh he can't battle without your mothaf*ckin' crew now
Yeah, exactly you cannot match me
You had wack punchlines wheelchairs in Degrassi
f*ck do you mean dawg?
Ever since that mothaf*ckin car hit you
Somethin' been wrong with you
You been a bit {whistle} off tempo ever since you popped out of the coma you dropped into
Bars no longer hard hittin' he's all filler after the doc stitched you
You went from artistic to autistic
Mentally challenged and part crippled
From all the brain damage and scar tissue
That caused him to suffer so much permanent memory loss that you don’t know whether or not something is wrong with you
And I left that part open to symbolize how you completely forgot who you are the moment that car hit you
Amnesia is a motherf*cker...
And at this current rate he wake up everyday in the same reoccurring state
Where he look in the mirror and doesn’t recognize the person he face
Feels so disturbed from it he feels like the person that's facin' him is violating his personal space
He's a groundhog that’s why he wakes up and writes the same verse everyday
It's like every part of his memory that’s short term was erased
I feel bad for your wife because she probably feels like
Shes f*cking the b*tch Adam Sandler was f*ckin' in the first 50 Dates
That’s kind of a low blow I shouldn’t have made fun of that car crash
That was some hard sh*t to live through
But I chalked it up to bad karma
See most people don’t believe in karma anymore but obviously I still do
Cause for instance you got famous for killin' a Freeway then a couple of years later
You got famous again when a freeway almost killed you
Don't ask me to give a f*ck I ran out of f*cks to give
I hope you get in another car accident
This time with your baby mother and kid and instead of dying you end up being the only one of them that lives
What?
Yeah that was a low blow
I know doe doe
Take a photo oh
I'm 'bout to roll up and pop [?] to his fo’ do
Oh no, he's probably gonna go and PC again and talk to the po po
How you gon talk sh*t about Meek Mill you’ve been a Dream Chaser
Fell the f*ck off the scene and become a free baser
Ill put five to the side of your car like Speed Racer
Then have you run away car explodin' in the background like the cover of Peacemaker
Yeah you could act up you get slashed up and hacked up left on your back stretched cutty
I'll f*ck your ass up
I'll stab you into the past tense buddy
You ain't survivin' this crash
The impact will pry you in half
Fly through the glass as the dash gets bloody
Cass' take your last breath cause you gon' catch wreck faster than the crash test dummy
Big Daddy Kane told me No Half Steppin'
You half step it’s a wrap
You getting wrapped up like an Aztec mummy
Yo you know why this dude Cass' act real funny?
I don’t know cause he talks about his battle with Freeway like the four touchdowns he scored back in high school you the black Al Bundy
Y'all wanna know another reason why Cass' acts real funny?
I don’t know he claims he gettin' b*tches and he pimpin'
But really he Married With Children cause he like the black Al Bundy
Y'all wanna know another reason why he act real funny?
I don’t know because he had a hit but after the show was over him and Kelly went separate ways...
You the black Al Bundy
[Round 1: Cassidy]
Listen man, I'm feeling real upset today
Cause I heard you paid some n*ggas from Grape Street to f*ck up our battle yesterday
And that was extra gay
You took the b*tch ass route
Scared that I was gonna fly Math out here to knock ya b*tch ass out
I bare arms grizzly style, and if I'm hungry for the chicken
That heat'll spin you around rotisserie style
You was rich as a child, never wanted for sh*t
And you ain't never run the strip, you just running your lips
I know you wish you had a shorter nose
I wish your mom had a miscarriage and you was born in a toilet bowl
Or your dad splashed you right on your mama face
Cause you like a hermaphrodite, a di*khead with a Regina face
The nose, the clit, your mouth is the pus*y hole
So don't get the lips on your pus*y swole playin' that pus*y role
I got bars like phone car reception
But stay strapped like back packs, gat black, Biggie Smalls complexion
You Ready To Die? That .38 special lead like special ed
It'll teach you retards a lesson
I grip that thing and I'm aiming in y'all direction
Hit ya abdomen and strangle your man and 'em with your small intestines
I'm what you call a veteran, I'm legendary
And you just a son of a b*tch and it's hereditary
If I was Math, you'd be dead already
Your picture on a obituary, bullet holes in your head already
I'm 5000 and 0, my record dumb n*gga, dumb n*gga
You lost more battles than you won n*gga
I ain't never lost one n*gga
You playing Russian roulette with a fully loaded gun n*gga
And where the f*ck is you from n*gga
Iran, Pakistan or Lebanon?
Never mind, I don't give a sh*t you f*cking immigrant
I hope you green card get revoked you f*ckin' degenerate
Explain this sh*t, you freestyle for free on some beginner sh*t
With the pen I'm sick, penmanship, I get paid to spit
And you ain't gettin' paid sh*t
If you add up all the money that you made from every battle that you ever had
That wouldn't even be half of what I'm getting paid for this
You make me sick, your rap style awkward as hell
You act all wild and rap loud
You think your bars sound hard cause you yell?
And you was in a group called Krack City
But never sold no crack in your city, that's retarded as hell
Ayo this kid a clown
I want y'all to hear my impersonation of how corny this n*gga sound
{Impersonating Dizaster}
I'm authentic, my brain is large, augmented
My car rented, it's cause your Swisher switching cigar scented
I'm barbaric with bars but never bartended
Yo I go hard wit it, spitting poison, I'm arsenic
You could get punished you could get it if you want it
Your stomach I'll carve into it, then poke it open and barf in it
I'll c*m in your moms box and let my c*ck spar with it
Put something hard in it, go hard in it
Then pull out then stick my whole arm in it
Pull out her cervix and then tell her to suck my di*k
That's how you really f*ck a b*tch
Look at his eyebrows this n*gga hostile
Like, "Damn that man sound better than me with my style."
I had to mimic how your style sound
To prove I can sh*t on you with any style
I'm moving my bows now, I'm the king bow down
And next time you get a cut, make the barber trim the eyebrows down
My fans like, "Cass' you the best."
Damn right I was battling before the cameras and the damn mics
Before Facebook, before Twitter and Instagram lights
Worldstar, Vlad, Youtube and all' em damn sites
I ain't battled in 12 years but I'm so damn nice
I hand write raps that's crack Klu Klux Klan white
Yes your ass an A-Rab, but you not the Taliban type
Cause you ain't never pop off a chopper your whole damn life
Plus you an Atheist who don't believe that God exist
You went from Allahu Akbar to a Scientologist
You a homo, so I understand why you switch
Cause Islam don't accepts faggots that like ridin' di*k
And how you Grape Street, fruit cup?
You wouldn't bust a grape in a food fight
Banana clips'll crack your coconut
The toast will bust, remove everything from your shoulders up
Listen ya head missin', the coffin can't open up
You chokin' up like an asthmatic that smoke too much
Dawg you like a K-9 cop, sniff coke too much
I'm like shootin
Up in a vein and my di*k dope as f*ck
My bars raw and all of your bars is baking soda'd up
Like having sex with a fractured pelvis you broke us f*ck
You [?] and got no chicken; veggie store
I have four dollars and flip that
Bought a soda, two Dutches, some chips and a Kit Kat
Nah forget that, I got a quarter mill to kill this cat
Bought an M4, two K's and some Macs all big gats
Then I went to see my connect like, "Where the bricks at?"
He made me spend, I paid for ten, but brought twenty bricks back
Then I brought my chick back a Khloe and the Fendi
And used twenty grand worth of benji for the gift wrap
Me against this b*tch is a mismatch
Cause every line I rhyme is a punch
But I could beat him with b*tch smacks
[Round 2: Dizaster]
Alright look man you called me an immigrant
Pfft you wanna call me a Arab?
Talk sh*t about that, well that’s some sh*t I do not understand
Hell yeah I’m a immigrant
I’m Palestinian cause if sh*t is real (Israel) I don’t gotta sling shots
You could get rocked with these hands
Do you understand?
That you wack and I hate the way that you act
You always talk sh*t about people and reference how they’re gay when they rap
But you’ve been accused of having AIDS it don’t get gayer than that
You said I’m a atheist I’m not dawg that's a f*cking lie
It don’t mean I don’t believe in something just cause I don’t believe that there's an invisible man that whispers to me in the sky
You might be a little ridiculous, cause back in the days
Hold on let me tell you a story from way back
Way back before Daylyt got his face tat
When all you had was your f*cking five XL white T’s with your dirty wave cap
You used to rap about how you blaze gats and slang packs until you caught a case fast
You went to jail then came back
You changed paths you went from sprayin' caps
To Christian faith raps you're a hypocrite I hate that
Cause now you back to the same Cass' that gangsta Cass' that I bang Cass'
Once again you came back after Jesus saved yo' fake ass
So this ain't even a welcome home party for you
This is technically like welcoming Ma$e back
Welcome back, welcome back, welcome back, Pastor Faggot
And now hes back and he's gat holdin'
What a bad omen
He got locked up and found God and came out as a black Mormon
This motherf*cker reminds me of Dragonball
Cause as soon as he got in a cell he started transformin'
He don’t understand whats happening here
He likes to whisper in mans ear
This cat's a f*ckin' b*tch when he's performin'
Look how you went like Notorious BIG how you turned to Faith
But you ain't never gon get into Heaven with that dirty face
I'm pretty sure one of the main requirements to get through the pearly gates
Is not bragging about havin a murder case
But you forgivin'...you forgiven tho
He's a born again Christian virgin
f*ck his image I guess this f*ckin' image isn’t workin'
What good is being religious when you're just a sh*tty person?
This fool went on the Breakfast Club and spit some Jesus raps and nobody was feelin' it
Soon as he left the radio station Charlemagne was lookin at the co-host like, "Damn. What a f*ckin idiot."
What you need to do is stop claiming you're a killer when you a Christian cause it makes you sound like an idiot
You need to tell these people, who you really is
That Philly kid, who got famous for claimin' a murder that he never really did
Yeah tell these people all the facts here really
How you ran your mouth and almost got smacked by Gilly
How your man caught a body for you
You left him starving and that’s why you can't come back to Philly
Tell these people how you no longer a Philadelphia boy
Tell these people how you moved out and you a New Jersey resident boy
Them OG’s on the block are like Japanese chefs
Cause soon as they smell something fishy
You got cut that’s how people in Philadelphia roll
What now you got Bloods you payin' to protect you
Cause you ain't nothing but a clown
What you should do is take that money and give it to OBH cause they the ones that held you down
Maybe if you woulda taken care of Ab, you wouldn’t have been ran out of your f*ckin' town
Can't come back to his pack in Philly, cause to be blunt ever since he got cut, he ain't had the guts to stick around
I spoke to your OG's, Mr. Majors, AR-AB, I’ve been talkin to all of them they told me
All them cats from OBH, you phony
You never sold drugs, them coke deals are fictional stories
The only time you push keys is when you use them to lock the door on your homies
How could anyone call you loyal? Your own block disowned you
Your man caught a body you were in the crib cryin'
He outside putting his life and catchin, poppin' for you
What, What oh that ain't true? That ain't true?
Then why you f*ckin talkin during the verse
Why you reacting to it
Cause you know it's true sh*t
It's f*ckin with you it's f*ckin with your brain
You already know that’s the type of sh*t that
Starts f*ckin with your mind starts f*ckin with you insane
Starts poundin' in your cerebellum f*ckin up your membranes
Please, please listen, cause you know you wasn’t honest
AR-AB you told him you would ride with him, but you broke the promise
You closed it I know you closed it regardless
You a f*cked up manager Cass'
Real managers are supposed to open doors for their artists
Well when it was time to pull the fifth out you dropped your clip
And you dipped out
You were supposed to use the chopper but you like Julia Roberts
Cause you nothing but a b*tch with a big mouth
He claims he killed so many rappers that he lost count
He has such a large amount of body bags that there’s bodies he forgot about
But correct me if I'm wrong Aak
You never even caught the body and the only body you’ve ever talked about
So since when did claiming someone else's body count as a body count?
You don’t bang heavy metal, last time you seen a Body Count on your hands was when Ice T put his first album out
You ain't a gangster you're a rapper Cass', f*ck you talkin 'bout?
You was crying like a b*tch when shots rung out
Them large cans had you hiding inside like Oscar The Grouch
Ever since Vlad aired your dirty laundry out
We know that you a backstabbing fag that would let his man starve on the couch
And when you was with double R
We never seen Styles, Jada, Sheek with you at yo' show rocking it out
So the shootout you was involved in
Was the only time you've ever had The Lox (locks) in the house
Listen, cause he wasn’t poppin in the war when sh*t popped off he walked off
And he blocked off the entrance door turned into Sonic The Hedgehog and he balled up on the bedroom floor
Why you actin' like you the one who popped his pistol for?
If everyone in this room was a mutant from X-Men, you'd be Mystique
I mean you obviously that b*tch of course
Cause you the only one in here comfortable enough with his own skin to walk around claimin' a body that isn’t yours
f*ck what you have to rap about, that's real sh*t

[Round 2: Cassidy]
You looking petrified right now
I can tell its intimidation
I been knew your b*tch ass was texting AR
Tryna find out a whole lot of information
But every time you rap I hear the crowd whispering
Like I ain't tryna hear this sh*t again, I'm tryna hear Cass spit again
My women friend? Bad Boy It's All About The Benjamins
You bend your men over then stick it in, b*tch you feminine
You think cause you sucka punch Math, that n*ggas fear you?
Didn't you say you sucka punch Math cause that n*gga dared you
Well I dare you, I f*cking dare you
I double dare you, I triple dawg dare you
You try it, my dawgs'll air you
Him, him, them and every n*gga standin' near you
Cause I'll even hit innocent bystanders
I dare you, I had to repeat it just to prepare you
To die or be a paraplegic, wheelchair you
Cause when gats clapping your back cracking, chiropractors
And I know you not 'bout to Showout
Cause I'll get my Hitman to Holla at you
(And I'll knock him the f*ck out!)
(I'll knock him the f*ck out)
You know what's up boy, you know you knocked out
You do not wanna box boy
Everybody know that you a f*ck boy
And everybody know you like to f*ck boys, that ain't even a mystery
I always got a pretty b*tch with me
My b*tch'll be like, "Come and get with me
Pretty please, I need some di*k in me."
I get bad hoes and you get di*k in your as*h*le
You tryna hide it, you need to come out the closet
No I ain't homophobic, but n*gga I'm gon' expose it
Stop it, Dizaster you sweet
When I rap, I rap for the streets
And you...rap for the suburbs like this, rapping too much words
You can't even rap to the beat
Dawg I've been had plaques on the wall and all you got is plaque on your teeth
If you and me happen to beef
I'll catch you at the red light
The shotgun, shotgun in the passenger seat
You would wet your pants begging for a second chance
I'm blastin' the heat, I don't sympathize
You'll get sent to God, Pimp Your Ride
Give you all red interior
It'll be an exhibit (Xzibit) of a natural Dizaster after they bury ya
This like a dog fight, but I'm superior
You like a Labrador and I'm more like Pitbull Terrier
A show stopper, flow hotter than Nigeria
So chicks like me, wrist icey like Siberia
I just bought a gold watch, with those rocks
Yellow like the bumble bee on a Cheerios box
So I wear it everywhere now, cause its exclusive
It look like my watch and Medusa just had a stare down
So hoes be pulling they underwear down
And start finger popping their damn Regina
Then hop on this Anaconda
I put it on my grandmama grave, I'm a grinder
I got insomnia
I don't need no damn pajamas, no sleeping
I'm up early for the cake, so I'm eatin'
But listen, what I'm whippin in the kitchen ain't Aunt Jemima
You gotta have a steady hand when you blam the Llama
Cause the 5th'll kick and it could sprain your frickin' wrist
The fiends know, I seen more snow than Saint Nicholas
The night before Christmas, my flip game ridiculous
And I pitched the zips of cocaine cousin?
Cause a lot of n*ggas f*ckin wit Molly, that b*tch promiscuous
I gain support cause I'm a flamin' torch
Yep I'm heap, but f*ck a beat
I don't need no track for my train of thought
For the dollar signs, I sign my name on the dotted line
sh*t, I'm in my bag, try me, it's colostomy time
You need to transform, Optimus Prime
Cause you ain't got a dime, you still livin with your pop and your mom
In your room under the covers on your bed
Tryna cover your ear so you won't here your pop poppin' your mom
I'm the hustla, you not on your grind
So you couldn't walk in my shoes even if we wore the same size shoes
I been a fly dude, screw more chicks than n*ggas get their whole life
In my first semester in high school
That's why at school I did it big, Humpty Hump nose
Done lie, in school you got punched and got your lunch stole
I been official, this n*gga got mental issues
You must've got dropped on year head at a couple months old
You've been retarded since an infant
So I swear I'm about to air you out like a car tire when the rim bent
You can't front chump
I got so many punches and bars after this battle you gon be punch drunk
They put an Arabian nerd from the Suburbs
Tryna have a n*gga swag up against Mr. Cass?
My bars goes over n*ggas heads like a mistletoe
So you can kiss my ass if you think this n*gga sick as Cass
This n*gga trash
And you wanna know what else rhyme with trash Dizaster?
Ya cab-dispatcher
A swagless rapper
Arabic bachelor
That f*ck with boys on the low like a Catholic pastor

[Round 3: Dizaster]
Your a hell of a f*cking weirdo bro
You said I got dropped on my head a couple of months old
No, but you got dropped on your f*cking head a couple of years ago
It's one thing to be confident
Its another thing to have blind folded c*ckiness
See all you do is be coming off in blogs and be talking sh*t sounding like a retarded gimp
Coming off like Erykah Badu
Cause at one time you use to have Common Sense
I mean whats wrong with you dawg
Nowadays you like the boy who cried wolf tickets
Tryna provoke me with false threats
Cause I guess that's what you gotta do when you have a Napoleon Complex
You ain't a gangsta, you an actor performing his role while his on set
Part of this big ass metaphoric context
See you, stop frontin' like a soldier and you really want combat
Before you get shot and sent home with only one arm like a former Vietnam vet
You ain't from the army you don't pop TECs
That's an invisible cloak, an image that's not really there
You were never seen in the Philadelphia projects
Hold on, I sense a force field coming
The same people that said I wouldn't beat you
Are the same people that said Hollow wouldn't kill Budden
Say you gangsta then go peel something
AB told me you wasn't on the field four fifths gunnin'
You was clicking both hills running, you a f*cking oatmeal muffin
You don't hold steal, and even if you did, you still won't kill nothin'
But blunt trauma force concussion
Get your whole grill crushed in
Crawling out of the Oldsmobile looking like roadkill
I got no chill button
Cassidy the hustler back on the block doing phone bill numbers
Carmelo gave him a million dollars he f*cked it off
And ended up broke still and got no deal from it
Always sitting talkin' about how he chopped a whole big onion
Running your mouth about all these coke deals frontin
What coke deals?
It's like been at the poker table
Cause I know you're bluffin, but you ain't the player
You the house keeper when they hear folks cussin'
Cause you already know that you won't deal nothing
Such a f*cking mark
Tryna play those type of games
Dawg I'm a f*cking light you up cause my game type insane
With these bars I crafted, it's like a complex art
My thoughts are graphic
Imagine a collage full of visual bars from Leonardo's hand
Which makes it harder to brush me off once I start to draw you this canvas
A blank rap sheet
Full of post-dramatic flashes from car crashes
And you might've cruised through a Philly Freeway
But right now your in Los Angeles and you caught up in traffic
You can't be calling out rappers like Marshal Mathers
When all you have is nursery bars
Let me show you what a strong vocab is
You holographic, monosyllabic, robotic and bland
Monotone having ass, retarded sub par washed up mediocre four bar patterns
Brought an armed body guard that walked into the dress con' with him like Kevin Costner
Cause that's how much of a fraud his ass is
Yep
He had a Bounty guard him from getting washed
That's the reason you softer than cotton fabric softner
And we ain't cut from the same cloth that Cass is
Yeah I seen you, all up on those blogs with Vlad
Talkin', runnin' your mouth with your f*cking bobble head f*ckin Bob Saget retarded glasses
His f*cking Bob Saget f*cking goggle glasses
Running his mouth like a socially awkward ass off brand bubble head looking retarded faggot
Lets talk about how Jim Jones snapped on you
And AB had to step in cause you almost got yo' ass whipped
Or how when you saw the body, you started to panic
That's when your boys pulled your card like magic
Cause you were suppose to aim the thang, but you turned David Blaine
Soon as you saw someone in a box
You completely disappeared from the spot and vanished
Cause that gangsta role is just an act, you ain't problematic
You just a fake animated character with a real person riding on your side like Roger Rabbit
Yeah you put on some classics, like been on an R Kelly song and...that's it
Yeah its pretty cool, alright but that was hot
But when you go from that to lyin' 'bout been sponsored by a condom packet
It's safe to say your career's suffered a lot of damage
Especially when you go from the top hundred charts to the bottom bracket
And land in the same catalog as Math Hoffa's garbage track
That's along with every other lost New York rapper that ever put out a song on DatPiff
But his team always reaching for the highest amount of green
Look at their long giraffe necks
You went ya whole life talking about the gwap and crossing assets
You went ya whole life chasing that chunk of ice
Til you finally found it and became your downfall, you are the Titanic
Cause after you fell off your pendant got jacked b*tch
You know the pendant from Jack's b*tch
You f*cking wack b*tch
It's still 14-19 seconds, why you tryin' to act b*tch?
Why you talkin' through my sh*t?

[Cassidy]
I ain't talkin', I'm just...laughin'

[Dizaster]
You said in a blog that you're the one who started battle rap
And before that you smoked a bowl of crack and you dropped some acid
If you think you started SMACK, then you a Molly addict
I don't know what they got you on after the car crash
But you must've got a doctors pass for popping Xanax
Who the f*ck brought this synthetic hero in
My bars are like Oxy tablets
I'll f*cking catch you in the f*cking hood
And pop up with a large tool like a car mechanic
Sparking at random objects like their target practice
f*ck around with that long assault rifle
With the Mag pulled, folding stock, with the mad grip long
Scope on it, wit the lens on it thicker than my grandma's glasses
{Diz gets time called on him}

[Round 3: Cassidy]
I'm so official, I hold the pistol put my finger cross the trigger
And pop like father figures
I ain't trying to hear (hair) nothin'
That metal start choppin' like barber scissors
I'll snap and give you head shots like barber pictures
But not for the gram, the Glock in my hand
I'll put to your head and let that thing cut like barber clippers
But since the DA be chargin' n*ggas
You gotta have the right plan to shorten a n*ggas life span
You take a life man, you could get a life man
If a snitch sit right on the stand and be the prosecutor hype man
Lift his right hand and be in there pointin'
But I got bread, I'll put money on your head like a hair appointment
And nah we not gon call cops, we all pop
Scar shots give you bold spots like near the ointment
Now, who use Head & Shoulders when their hair dirty?
Alright, well I'll blow his head off his shoulders, do this n*gga head dirty
That was a head scheme, some of y'all got it
But them bars when over some of y'all heads like hair cream
My wife nice, that's di*k head mean
I'm not single but can make every single b*tch in here cream
Cause I'm a freak, my wife freaky too
She my boo we will screw at least two b*tches every week or two
Watch as I keep a few, Ice smoother the face
So bright It'll make you cover your face like you playing peek a boo
I got a Hawk and a Eagle too
That's why I let bullets fly and Smoke em on and Poke em on, Pikachu
Only that person that deceivable believe its true
When you say you clap gats, that's unbelievable
No one believing you, you never shot sh*t
I'll pop and make you sh*t on yourself, that's why I pop sh*t
I'm fly no c*ckpit
I throw birds with no feathers I cop in the park and counter clock whip
But you ain't never cop sh*t
How you got blocks on lock with no keys n*gga, you gon need a locksmith
I'm on some get gwap sh*t
Your chicken low man (Lo Mein), doodle I'ma chew you -no chopsticks
I jot sh*t on some think out of the box sh*t
Look I got him shook on some Michael J. Fox sh*t
You a comedian actin' the fool
And was on the Total Slaughter show tryna sing on some Jamie Foxx sh*t
You lost to Daylyt, got dropped b*tch
And was feeling bad, really mad, suicidal
On your Robin Williams bad, really sad, about to kill yourself
Don't know why you didn't
You should've took a dirt nap if you were tired of livin'
R.I.P
Obviously you lost hope cause you always broke but you could die for free
See life come with a price you never pay
So not committing suicide the worst mistake that you ever made
But now I'm choosing to help
I'm killin' you in this battle, since you ain't have the bars to do it yourself
How you soft then rapping hard, stop confusin' yourself
That ain't cool Lush.. why you set this up to get this dude crushed?
My tool bust, yeah I keep the heat
The only time you squeeze that thing and bust is when you beat your meat
What you tryna front for, I show up to your front door
Chubby Jag sent address in his last text
I'll mask up like Daylyt, broad daylight
With two K's like Kanye's wife that's Ray J height
Then I'll pop till every family member shot
Infra dot, shinning red like a break light, but I ain't finna stop
Car scheme, I take your life with my ice on
It's like I got the high beam head lights on
My wrist glow cause I get do like taekwon
Rap and sell off white
Smoke so much the inside of my car need fog lights
Clags of smoke coming out of the gat like exhaust pipe
I'll let the gun shoot and open up your sun roof
The ratchet drawn you the bast*rd I'm a blast it on
Then lean you on the side of the road with no hazards on
I'm tryna re-up when the crack is gone
For them oils I'll ride out, but see keys don't turn Dizaster on
It's traffic on the highway to hell
That's where Dizaster going
I'm on the road to riches speeding past, this easy cash
I'm known for spraying sh*t up, but I don't graffiti tag
Your Middle Eastern ass should take a laxative and then eat some glass
I'll eat you up then eat your food with my greedy ass
See I smashed Freeway the free way, I ain't need the cash
I had to do it to Free, but now I don't do it for free
To go through me you gotta pay, I ain't a easy pass
You sound wack to me when you rap
{Time gets called on Cassidy}