Cassidy vs. Hitman Holla lyrics

by

Cassidy


{Hitman starts rapping to Cassidy during his introduction}

[Round 1: Hitman Holla]
In the industry, I don't give a f*ck what you did
This is my house, take off your shoes when you walk in my crib
n*ggas talk crazy to Hitman and I'm emotional?
Well f*ck it, I'm the one to blame then
So earlier I was like, "Where Cass' at?"
CoVID-19, I was tryin' to check his temp' before he came in
n*ggas called my phone like, "Holla. They sayin' Cassidy let Calicoe hear his rounds for you."
I'm like, "So? Like that's gon' save him."
Well at the face off I was gonna him hear rounds from a Calico
{gun c*cks}
I was returnin' the favor
Why we even comparin' namе to name?
I been surpassed his and then somе
Who y'all prefer?
The n*gga that's gonna sell a fight?
Or the n*gga that's gonna end the fight when he get in one?
Ya house? Got foreclosed
Your cars? Got repo'd
Those are facts so I don't wanna hear all this big money sh*t like, you be hustlin'
Matter of fact, you say one thing I don't like tonight...
I'ma be petty and buy your publishin'
Aye look at him
I own my publishin'
Then why you gettin' all worked up?
I mean, if you broke and you own your publishin'
Well thanks for confirming your catalog ain't really worth much
This sh*t is so depressing
Your son gotta wake up on Christmas to no presents
Arsonal had the nerve to pocket check you
For f*ckin' what?
There hasn't been a dollar in those jeans since '07
Dude really a bum
n*gga is you silly or dumb?
You went from beggin' b*tches to "come to my hotel"
....to livin' in one
Man I ain't never backed down from sh*t, I got heart you know
The .40? Not an opening act when it start to show
High speed chase I'm on him, I do my cardio
Shoot him while the whip's still spinnin' it's Super Mario
f*ck it I'ma remix it
I ain't never backed down from sh*t, I got heart you know
The .40? Not an opening act when it start to show
The .40? Not an opening act when it start to show
High speed chase I'm on him, I do my-
High-high speed chase, I'm on him, I do my cardio
Shoot him while the whip's still spinnin' it's-
Shoot, shoot, shoot while the whip's still spinnin' it's Super Mario
The sh*t you say in your raps gets you booed every battle
How dare y'all compare to mine
But don't Barry remind us of Sanders?
Cause his whole career he been known for havin' terrible lines
In every category I'm better, I do it more Cass'
And my delivery probably sicker than DoorDash
You really think you f*ckin' with Hitman? You sure Cass'?
Diz', Goodz, Ars', me, how the f*ck you gonna weather the storm?
I'm just judging off your last four Cass' (forecast)
I seen that movie
Wasn't you a part of that Next Day Air cast?
Coincidence, cause my homies will shoot ya hype man and next they air Cass'
My passion grows
Sorry I gotta crash your goals
You a movie star?
Well when they see the way I cook him tonight, it'll be the last time they ever give Cass' a role (casserole)
You better watch what you say in your raps, no what I mean Cass'?
Cause you can catch a bullet behind those lines, like a screen pass
The straps hang off of the arm like it's a lean bag
And I can box, this right hand'll lean Cass'
I take him back to the early 2000's when I- put him to sleep...now dream Cass' (DreamCast)
I'm a crocodile
They say I'm the best as soon as I jot it down
What sense do this make? How you braggin' on the sh*t that you had...to a n*gga that got it now
You outta bounds, livin' off ya man name, like you popped a Ruger
Knowin' damn well you Ben Simmons Philadelphia Cass', you was (not the shooter)
Aye y'all know when a dog get neutered another word for that is "castrate"
How ironic, cause Philly, for the right price I'll get rid of this nut, if the cash straight
Pause
Wait
Didn't you get caught f*ckin' wit' trannies? We don't even know if Cass' straight
What? I'm losin' you?
Oh I forgot he delusional, that's a Cass' trait
I ain't wit' the internet beef, don't want police knowin'
I'm a wolf, ain't worry about where the sheep goin'
All I know is war, I don't stop, I keep goin'
Our shooters past at his funeral
(Man, what he do?)
sh*t
I just made a vow to kill every n*gga that stand by him or speak for him
Can you stop actin' like you doin' me a favor?
Do I seem rattled?
This idiot don't even know he tell his friend it's his dream battle
To me, battle rap is street sh*t [?] and you not make it up out one
So whether I'm standin' in front of the body or on top of the body, it's the same outcome
I get physical where I'm from, you too little and frail
I'm Steph Curry, not cause I 30 all y'all favorite rappers
But mostly because my little brother a shooter as well
And our pop shot nice, he remind us of Del
Pump to your mouth
You asthmatic?
It don't matter cause either way I'ma see you in Hell (inhale)
Battle rap? Boy you wouldn't win a debate
The type of legacy I got you don't get by mistake
Man don't let them amp you up and get you hit in ya face
Second half y'all owe me won't fit in the safe
Talkin' money to me is legit a mistake
My next crib I debate, "Should it be in the states?"
Man if Cass' get me mad, get on the weights
Before the next question asked is, "Do you think he awake?"
It's gon' be a body tonight, somebody better call the authorities
First round down, you better pray to God I ain't got two more of these

[Round 1: Cassidy]
I said...
f*ck who you brung witchu
I could fit 100 shells in one pistol
You should run, and whoever run witchu should run witchu
You rap about guns all the time in ya bars
I get time behind bars cause that what a gun get chu
b*tch you, ran and grabbed a bag like you had a gun witchu
But you ain't clap a shot when them Cali n*ggas snatched ya watch
I bare (beer) cans but they not Coronas
I'm talkin' 'bout the gats I got
I stay strapped and my ratchet pop
And before they tried to stop Corona
I was wearin' masks givin' n*ggas six feet when they casket drop
I said b*tch, you could get robbed for the cash you got
But I tell my squad, "Don't cry over spilled milk, just grab a mop."
And the safe where I stash the gwap is running outta (outer) space like an astronaut
Stay in ya lane for gats I c*ck get pulled like a traffic stop
b*tch you'd rather shoot it out or rather box
If there's a confrontation get hit with a combination like a Master Lock
I told this n*gga, I said...Hitman...Hitman...Hitman
Let a man with hits Holla at you
You can start first and then finish last
Reed had it in the car but you had it in ya bag?
You must've gave your imaginary friend a bag
Cause when you had to run to go get it it could've ended bad
You've been a fag, been a b*tch, a scary guy
You not top tier cause you left outta there and cried
Look at you emotional
You know you not prepared to die so shut up
I don't need ya two cents (sense) I need ya ears and eyes
You was tryin' to make it outta there alive
Textin' John John like, "You still pullin up?" You was f*ckin' terrified
You said you known for punchin' on n*ggas, I was like, "Where was I?"
And he was like, "Oh Piru you can Google me."
Y'all ain't hear this guy?
It's clear that I be gettin' under ya skin like a b*tch but you pus*y like what's in-between a pair of thighs
A left out you stayed there inside cause you scared to ride
To get sh*t clarified let's play Swear To God
pus*y
Swear To God you really had a gat stashed in that black bag
And you was gon' let your gat blast then go to war wit' Cass'
pus*y
Swear To God you wasn't mad scared
You pus*y get a pap smear
If you really brought a gat there should've wore the bag
pus*y
Swear To God before you had your first SMACK event
You ain't run into me by accident before my crash
pus*y
Swear To God you ain't see me at a concert backstage and ask can you have my autograph
Swear to God n*gga! Swear to God!
I'm sure his ass won't make a confession
But they can tell by your facial expression it's not a lie
You can't ignore the past
Before your ass got SMACK involved you was playin' basketball
On the ground ballin' so I signed your Spalding
I ain't have time for talkin'
And going to the league is tough
So after I signed your basketball I said, "Keep it up!"
But instead of lacin' sneakers up, I was keepin' them heaters tucked
My team only came to a game to shoot the bleachers up
You tryin' to keep it secret but
I made you wanna battle rap
And go from bouncin' balls to countin' bars tryin' to battle cats
I had to trap
I carried rock everywhere I travelled at
I been a shooter
To be technical I shoot back to back
But cats were smackin' ya ass, you took it behind ya back like a Magic pass
In ya faggot bag, that's a fact
And I know you fiendin' to run back to Smack
Cause you a SMACK rapper, I smack rappers and have smack to trap
When you rap your rap
If I'm lookin' in ya face it's cause I'm f*ckin' lookin' for a place to clap the ratchet at
Coaches had ya back
You could've been in the NBA
Instead of Beasley house with ya name on an NDA
Anyway, I was gettin' paper back then
And thought this little Kevin Garnett face ass could make it happen
I'm reminiscing to listen to what I'm sayin' y'all
I'm the reason he stopped playin' ball and put his faith in rappin'
I'll pop a slug you can't stop the blood with no paper napkins
Bust the steel then your blood is spilled, sh*t mistakes could happen
Look at his face he cappin'
I ain't stupid, wet up ya clothes with a big nose it ain't mucus
This thot I got from St. Louis gave the whole crew head
I prolly f*ck more b*tches from St. Louis than you did!
I still remember when Bill Collector knot grew big
But f*ck ya little brother b*tch, if I get hit man (Hitman) I want you dead
Ya crew dead
If I go in my bag like you did
Blllllllat!
I'll air this b*tch out and that's on my two kids
Truth is, this not gon' go your way
Why would RBE put an artist like me against his protégé?
Shells blow, under the elbow how you hold the K
And if you tape the clips together
Once you flip 'em over you could reload the K
How many ballers went pro you play?
I'd rather play in the G league than that Wild 'N Out role you play
But aye, aye, aye
Swear to God when I came on Wild 'N Out you wasn't playin' me close like my hype man the whole time I was up there
When I performed at the end Hitman, you was dancin', singin' the words like a big fan
This sh*t ain't even the f*ck fair
Just hilarious and all them other chicks man was on my di*k man
When I performed hit after hit...man
It's like this man wasn't even the f*ck there
And swear to God you don't get $1,000 an episode
So it would take you like ten seasons to make what I got to come the f*ck here
I stepped it up so when I walk up...stares (stairs)
Before they debated if I'm the greatest but now that sh*t is the f*ck clear
b*tch, if it's up then it's stuck there
You hear me clown? You try to stare me down, you can meet the man upstairs
It's like you might know how to fight but who the f*ck cares?
Get cut here and get a bald head, y'all seen too much here (hair)
My bro been locked up for years and don't expect parole
But told me to bar you to death so God bless ya soul
Bars!

[Round 2: Hitman Holla]
I can't believe he got the nerve to bring up the face off
You was talkin' all that just to show that you hard
But didn't I tell this n*gga, "come outside"?
But I forgot he was in protective custody, should've known he wasn't gonna go to the yard
Man don't let them n*ggas fool you Cass'
I am hip hop, you talkin' Wild 'N Out, man battlin' got me this spot
Big Glocks, make me mad, I let a clip drop
Big Gerald show me the ropes, think I'ma slip? Not (slipknot)
I'm big time, I'm on somebody beach in flip flops
Your b*tch the type I choke and tell her, "don't let a drip drop"
I'm this hot, God tier level, I jump six slots
I'll punch you in ya sh*t
This league? Gon' need six mops
I catch mine and trap it for real, I don't diss ops
b*tch, what I got in store ain't at a gift shop
Y'all love to critique my raps, "I don't be sayin' much"
Critique my contract instead, I bet they payin' much
Quit sayin' such, "Hitman Holla", Mr. Man, what?
You and Jaq can split this profit, don't get ya mans cut
Don't worry 'bout who I cooked in the past, it's your time to die
And stop comparin' me to the pens in battle rap cause all them n*ggas got a 9 to 5
I get even where I'm from
So Barry better stay with the odds
Headshot
Boy I'll let a bow down in his temple
Cass' you better pray to ya God

{Crowd starts booing}

Man, all that tough talk little n*gga, don't make another sound
Twitter fingers
A keyboard the only time you ever touched the pound
The internet thug, he's the type to act hard, what a f*ckin' clown
Sneak dissin'
Man don't you know takin' that sub way (subway) ain't gon' do nothin' but lead you underground?
It's like [?] way, hold that BAOW
I just came to put something down
That's crazy

{crowd starts booing again}

I really came from nothin' my n*gga I'm supposed to brag
You was on the block in the 90's, okay Ostertag
Chill 'fore they carry you out, that's a grocery bag

{jeering from the crowd}

I really came from nothin' my n*gga I'm supposed to brag
You was on the block in the 90's, okay Ostertag
Chill 'fore they carry you out, that's a grocery bag
Don't make me put this arm up n*gga, I give a toast to Cass'
Top battle rappers today? Man you close to last
No drive behind that wheel, you was supposed to crash

{more booing from the crowd along with some cheering}

I really came from nothin' my n*gga I'm supposed to brag
You was on the block in the 90's, okay Ostertag
Chill 'fore they carry you out, that's a grocery bag
Don't make me put this arm up n*gga, I give a toast to Cass'
Top battle rappers today? Man you close to last
No drive behind that wheel, you was supposed to crash
They, "booed the hottest sh*t in the world" you wrote the trash
Blade give you a permanent smile but it make the Joker mad
Do it look like I'm f*ckin' laughin'?
I ain't wit' the funny business
A.R.P., why you send this n*gga on this dummy mission?
All the fans be like, "Hitman, get back in ya bag."
I can't y'all...too much money in it
Chill, why you throwin' me shade? That's palm trees
Just tighten up, before I pull from the waist, that's draw strings
I'm a hustler, I got it out the mud like Swamp Thing
I made somethin' outta nothin' like my offspring
What you 5'5", 105 pounds?
Man if y'all don't throw me the ball for this Shaq Attack
Uppercut, hook, uppercut, I bet he flip like an acrobat
I'll leave bullets, stuck in ya head, keep that in mind...I'm get back to that
The gun connect called and said, "Holla, I'm about to feed the block. Whatchu want?"
I told him, "Poles. I need that Eagle off top."
Cass', where the f*ck you been? I'ma star these days
Busy schedule I had to smuggle you in
I can't rap? Then why none of 'em win
I created the style in battle rap that you strugglin' in
You on coke and you broke, I'm doin' him bad
Man you a hoe and the jokes you do it for laughs
Your boy caught a murder for you and you couldn't shoot him no cash?
Man, I should stand on Cass' with the AR, I'ma do it for Ave!
Ball game n*gga

[Round 2: Cassidy]
Off rap, I was ballin', while you was still tryin' to make the startin' five
I did sh*t with Fab', 'Kiss, Nas, Game and Wayne before the Carter 5
This all a façade
All ya bars falsified
But when you bought them fake teeth you should've got a smaller size
He started smilin' cause we all realize he's sweet
But I don't think those fake teeth can rot
You ever read The Little Red Riding Hood?
Well peep the plot
A real Blood wear a little red ridin' in the hood
But you look like the Big Bad Wolf, what big teeth you got

{Crowd starts booing}

Wait, I told this n*gga, wait, "Go donate one of ya fake teeth to DNA."
Cause if I burn ya body up, man they can't use ya fake teeth for DNA
Aye, shut ya mouth up n*gga, them damn teeth so big I still see 'em when ya mouth shut n*gga
A headshot'll lift ya scalp up n*gga
If you a Hitman go Holla at whoever f*cked ya mouth up n*gga
I'm prepared for the trouble
I ain't scared of a tussle
I could leave here with some of your veneers in my knuckles
You should've came here in ya duffle
The contract say, "no contact" but who cares? I'll snuff you
f*ck you
f*ck ya damn mother, ya dad, ya brother
Ya cousins, ya aunt, ya uncles and grandmothers
I'll let the 'Gram watch me top ya grandpop
Then f*ck ya baby mom on the 'Gram while the fans watch
C'mon Hitman stop, you just a battle rapper, face it
I got plaques on my wall, you got battle rappers faces
Wait, so that mean, you and your bae pop while you starin' at Tay Roc?
And all you see is Clips face while you gettin' ya di*k ate?
Pause
That sh*t weird, it don't sound natural
How you get top with a bunch of battle rappers lookin' down at you?
What type of gay sh*t is that?
In the crib that you livin' at, you only got men on ya wall, where are all the women at?
I been could scrap, and you a decent height
But if my fists fly, then they all gon' connect like the cheapest flight
You foolin' the people, you don't live an illegal life
A Ice Man, a Al Capone, a Bugsy Siegal life
They was real hitmen, famous for takin' people life
You shoot basketballs, battle rap and go on casting calls
Ya ass a fraud
Name somebody you shoot
If you a Hitman, Holla how many bodies you got
pus*y, do you got a body or not?
Obviously not
Yo I need to know what type of hitman is this, cause this man a b*tch
But this some sh*t you can't forget
You gettin' robbed outside that burger spot when you stopped in Watts Las Angeles
And n*gga don't lie cause they told me you got robbed in ya ride while you was waitin' outside for ya sandwiches
Aye, this some sh*t you can't admit but Hitman you lame
They told me, they took your fake Rollie and Nick Cannon chain
And you ain't go and grab ya Nick bag and let no cannon bang
The man who got ya sh*t never got hit but "Hitman" ya name?
I can't explain how I know, but I know what's up
I'm so dope sometimes I slow it up so y'all can sober up
You tryin' to soldier up ya little brother protecting you
When he was playin' catch witchu, I was in the correctional
Hitman, I been knew you were soft but I lost all respect for you
When Verb told ya pop how to talk when he addressin' you
"Yo Big Gerald"
"Yes sir!"
"That's how you talk to ya son"
That was unacceptable
It looked bad for you and ya dad when Verb lectured you
When Arsonal grabbed me, I tried to keep it professional
I wish a motherf*cker would
And I heard The Brotherhood a bunch of brothers from the hood havin' sex witchu
Is you a homosexual or not?
I guess it' true
Is y'all lovers or nah? That's what I heard
And that's word to my mother in law
I be pushin' that f*ckin' raw like no rubbers at all
Y'all might think that's kinda dumb (condom) but my sons never suffered at all

{crowd starts booing}

Well tonight I'm gettin' paid more, so whatchu standin' on this stage for (four), you need to give your mother a call
But don't get ya f*ckin' brother involved
Cause if I break his f*ckin' jaw you ain't got no other brothers to call
He prolly give the undercovers a call
Begin to snitch then will switch from ya brother to ya brother in law
You and ya brother are fraud, don't get gassed brother
This stick will rip your brother in half then he'll be your half brother

{crowd starts booing}

Listen, you made the worst decision in ya life, this sh*t is light
You gettin' 30'd like prescriptions n*ggas write
My diamonds dance different in the light
I like my links like my drinks, on the rocks, it's different wit' the ice
My car be cuttin' when I be sittin' at the light
So I'm tired about all the bars about my car collision n*ggas write
My di*khead might have a head on collision wit' ya wife
I might tap from the back like a submission in a fight
I punch with precision make smart decisions when I fight
But shoot wit' precision I could hit a pigeon that's in flight
Right, you ever beat a n*gga half to death
Stop to watch the n*gga gasp for breath
Then start to beat the other half that's left?
Yo Cass' the best, my sh*t extra cold
But you were never Blood it's not (snot) happenin', even if you had a messy nose
Watch who you wildin' out with b*tch, respect is owed
Plus I f*cked a Wild 'N Out chick the first episode
So I ain't gotta play no extra role
Cause I done won over a 1,000 battles with over 1,000,000 records sold
Platinum
But see the necklace on my neck is gold
VVS is froze, a b*tch'll hug me and catch a cold
Damn, yo my bro locked in the pen and don't expect parole
But told me to bar you to death so God bless ya soul
Bars

[Round 3: Hitman Holla]
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