Madflex vs. Geechi Gotti

Round 1: Madflex

Mmmmmm...

Now I don't really think you hood enough for this to begin

'Ey before we catch a case let's make a deal I won't act like I've been cripping with him

But y'all can't act like Geechi got any potential to win

His pickings been slim, and I came to grant a wish to the kid

But if it's bad blood, I regulate like an insulin pen

Before the ride down, I called this shit a cholas eyebrows

Because I knew it was a bad look when I penciled you in

What the fuck you want?

This man's a meal I got mass appeal behind me like Run The Jewels

I shoot the breeze, eulogy

Twenty-one gun salute

Buddy gone stumble through

He full of hot air get left behind for a cheque like Omar did to Pumps in Juice

Man, where my bank account?

Shit I just assume the funds withdrew

But now we got to set some discussion rules

I seen this guy

Mister "make them believe them lies"

Man I ain't bring none for you

Cause Black Lives Matter

There's no substitutes

I'm not adjustable

If you don't fuck with black dudes, I don't fuck with you

And I still don't fuck with you

Man I slap the shit out of Geechi; we working out trust issues

You don't rap

You part Tales from the Hood part Mother Goose

"I'd piss on my hand to get that residue from the gun removed"

Man fuck you dude

Man I ain't really pissing on myself

But I really know what trouble you

The scars of the fucking proof

I've taken clean head shots that did as much damage as any bullet stuck in you

And I still finish that fight till I slumped the dude

Heard his arm pop, didn't stop till a bone looked like a crumpled screw

That shit was looking like when a blunt gets chewed

What's my life like?

What's my life like?

I've lost a few to a double deuce

That's a troubleshoot

And I poured out so much liquor I could have made a pitcher of Jungle Juice

Look, I don't give a fuck

I don't give a fuck what you accustomed to

I'm combustable

I bust this fool

I have all the memories you keep on leaking from a knuckle bruise

As far as rap, nah, I ain't got much to prove

I brushed off the old guard so hard that the blush removed from Uncle Drew

Fuck this dude

Bust a move

Tonight you should have tapped out at the intro like the Huxtables

This shit could get uncomfortable

I run up on Geechi Gotti

Like fuck Geechi Gotti

It don't take a Million Dollar - man I sleep the body

Then pop money in the back of his neck like DiBiase

Till THAT money in the back of your neck gone need more change than [?]

Am I lying?

Naw, I'm a lion out here listening to sheep get cocky

At the core I put a Compton kid in a awkward position; do you need Pilates?

I know, I know, it's all American Airlines;

Take flight, I got the Eagle on me

Me, I'm just a little more chiiiill, you gotta speak to Yatchy

But I still make this motherfucking house look like I'm trying to beat Jumanji

I'm not alarmed, Geechi

Get an arm out if he can not see

They can still flag his ass down from the trunk like Creed and Rocky

Cause Apollo's trunk flag, if he can copy

Look, I don't really trust white dudes

On my mama, I don't give a fuck if Lush likes you!

They might be back there all night, acting like he's so nice

When he really kind of "ehhhh", like Keystone Lights

So miss me with it, like a Joakim Noah Free throw try

They know it take Flex to make the whole thing blow up like a mosquito bite

Public enemy

And you a public enemy but Geechi hood

Geechi ain't good if you can't trust it, don't believe the hype

Let the man rap



Round 1: Geechi Gotti

N***a you's - first things first, class in session

Pop pop; see that's a school shooting

I'm just intro-ducing him like new students

Wait let me bring that back

Cause I already think I'm losing him

I said "pop pop" see how in the intro I put deuce in him?

Yo what up Madflex?

Don't look now but it's bout to get bad Flex

I'm talking yellow tape, white chalk if I blast Flex

A hundred shots, you'll get - n***a you seen what I did to the last Flex

Now why would you wanna flex up

Whatever you spit, you better say it with your chest up

I'm shooting, aiming for the neck up

I send n***as to the hospital year round; it ain't a check-up

I'm only here, to run a cheque up

Get my money and get the fuck on

Give me my space, I'm not one of these rappers you can touch on

But try that shit, and it's a [?] shots from a porno flick

[What that mean]

N***a you getting bust on

Now on the real, he made the Freshman's list

{claps} Truth be told he old as hell

I ain't ever seen him choke when he smoke, so I'm pretty sure he can hold this L

I'm focused, yeah with two trays squeezing till they empty, like I'm trying to get the last out the toothpaste

Pace yourself, this ain't a sprint, this a marathon

Faceshot, let one ring cross his ear like Barry Bonds

Bonds build, and bonds break, see that's a part of life

But I'm disrespectful, I'd record a porno over whatever movie that your daughter like

Like it or not, you finna die behind bars like you got charged for playing with children

Yo Philosophy, how much did y'all pay me to kill 'em?

Don't matter, I brought my chopper, you need to know, that ain't the only K in the building

The build up crazy, but y'all be waiting for the haymakers

So y'all be missing the bars I slip in like a date raper

I hate haters, but that's a contradiction

When the chop be spitting, it hit his bitch

Code word: Scottie Pippen

See, they caught that, but I thought they'd have to catch up sooner

That just meant that his bitch gone be chilling with the Future

R.I.P. Young B

It's all love so know that that bar wasn't meant with any disrespect

The culture needs you

So after this kill I'ma ask God if he could trade you for Flex

Is you upset, don't matter I'm not stopping

The Glock popping

Till he get [?] like a cop shot him

I shot him then tossed the tray like jail food

This strictly business, with no strings attached like jail shoes

I hate how he rap

That shit be having me bored Flex

I mean that shit be cool but ain't no real n***as fucking with it like a Ford Flex

I came for blood catch him in the parking lot

It's clock out time

Y'all gone think he ran out the door, when you hear Flex shot outside

Outside looking in, this was a good match

Bro stop, when the 4 cock it's cracking his shit like a dope spot

Spotlight on me, so I gotta shine

I'm on that top tier campaign of moving fast, in Columbine

I already killed my class

And when it's real you can tell, you can see it in they eyes

It's yo turn, see if you can make n***as believe them lies

N***a time



Round 2: Madflex

Hold on

Let me sum that up

I should of held out for a Pat Stay match

Fuck that I came here to give Nelly some Band-aids back

But yo I only take Geechi if you give me paper

I need them dollars first this ain't a water birth; no free labour

Come on Geechi you wet behind the ears

At the end I could get him tapered

But why bother I've been called up from San Diego just to see some fake ass screw ball moving

Ey yo Virgina [?]

It's okay slow [?] hang over the plate

It's all [?]

Now you caught bodies

Not a single motherfucker you bodied could body me

Compare the bars, swear jar; the policy is talk is cheap

I'm flipping property, it's like I'm pissed I lost at Monopoly

Get off of me

Yeh boss these

Flex official; Ed Hochuli

I caught wind of you

And opened doors; Where's my thanks for the cross breeze?

Your whole style really easy to get lost in

It's setup bar setup bar setup bar

Then you claim Compton

But you urgent need security like Etta James talking

"I'm on the corner waiting to shoot"

Quit yelling Craig Hodges

Ey, You made yourself clear

Now you getting the cellophane coffin

PG on the ground, oh fucking well, I'm name dropping

Until everybody in the Bay watching; I'm Dwayne Johnson

I will kill this man, print him on my shirt

Hulk Hogan my shirt

Slam it on the floor and drop a big leg on it

I'll run it back

I know he's fucking strapped

Fuck him, I feel the game in my hands without a Rumble Pak

I said face plant bitch; think fake Space Jam kicks

His family staring at his stitches

Like ewww, what the fuck is that

Yeah, Shots Fired, the only reason that they dug this match

Is because they know they'd have to pull you off the ground before the face off; this a pumpkin patch

Yeah, I take more than a bit off the top

I'm in my upper class

And I ain't even in my bag yet

Madflex, more comfortable coming through San Diego than an Aztec

I break a bitch's ankle with a jab step

Tell me something other than your address and the past tense

Without another pop, round, ratchet, shell or body punch you have left

We seen all that

Just keep it rap

Or keep it wrapped up like Iraqi women

You get knocked out and wake up before you have a symptom

Facts, no fiction

Jordan doesn't pass to Pippen

And you have never shown growth on cam, my man: you Maggie Simpson

Y'all don't understand

You got this whole SoundCloud rapper look

No you can't get it shared man

Geechi how many pictures you got squatted down with the prayer hands

Ey

Yeah, yeah

Soldier feel the question

Or take a seat without a Bears fan

Fuck an arm connect you think I'm out here trying to square dance

I shall prevail

And go Latrell Sprewell because you would have to make the culture choke to even have a fair chance man

Fight back



Round 2: Geechi Gotti

N***a you - Secondly

Secondly, don't ask me no dumb ass questions like "Cause you a Crip can you Crip walk?"

Just know I came with one of grandma's switches

See he ain't catch that: That's cause that stick talk!

The eagle, look like a big hawk

The bullets got your name on it

Put a price on his head

Get 50 sent (50 cents) to your shit like I'm trying put some change on it

Money gang, every shot close range

These punches precise like Math and Dose range

Double barrel, you better know there's more than luck in that shotgun, this ain't a Coast game

Game time, I'm aiming at whoever sitting at the throne

These top tiers don't wanna battle

I got them running from these rounds like Indiana Jones

What's really going on?

Cause they think you hot

I think you sorta nice

I mean you didn't even really want to go to war tonight

You looking at a general

N***a those soldiers you fought was small like The Gorgonites

Great minds think alike

We don't even think the same

So many shots guarantee you he won't even drink the same

Peep the game

I told my shooters pull up and blast

We won't give a fuck who you with

Catch him driving, send bullets all through the whip

Hold up, his car'd park

But n***a it's small talk

(What that mean?)

N***a shoot the shit

You can't run from a red dot

Put your baby momma in a head lock

Cold word: Gerber logo

(What the fuck that mean?)

Give his baby a head shot!

I done shot a lot of n***as

You probably gone be the first white boy I'ma slump

Kidnap his bitch, ducktape her lips

But keep it on the hush, cause I could catch a fed case if I get caught with this white girl in my trunk

Hold on

White boy, you's a punk

And you gotta officer's face

Y' bitch, she's a bot

I don't even ask for the top, she just offers her face

The cloth that I lace

You could never be cut from

As far as battle rap

Shit as of late, I've been on my Forrest Gump;

(What the fuck that mean?)

That's a dumb run

See, this-



[Madflex]

Gjonaj said that



[Geechi Gotti]

This gun plastic

But it's a light 40

I extended the clip

When from 8 to 24 just like Kobe

Homie they say "Gotti all gun bars, he should try something newer"

Bah! Stand over him

Last thing he heard was the Smack intro: respect the shooter!

N***a I'm a shooter

You'll learn that if you ever come through in Compton

I shoot like this

I might even shoot like this

But you do what you want when you poppin'

But when it's real, you can see it in they eyes

His third round, see if he can make n***as believe them lies

Time!



Round 3: Madflex

Hey, you want the truth?

On the feet or on the ground I'm killlin Geech

I got a feeling that your heart don't match your ability

I know your type

Can't defend a guillotine

They start grilling me like "Stop it"

Stand it up, stick and [?]

I mean yeah, that is an option

I knock you out - I choke you out

Motherfucker you still asleep be honest

We two rounds in, you down a couple

And I won't stay bickering like old-age women

I go O.J. Simpson; I feel guilty but I show you these hands can keep me out of trouble

Say something Geechi

I'm a grown man from a cut cloth

Look in my eyes

You looking nervous until a gun's drawn

Just talking cripping

Yeah I seen it and I'm use to it

That's why I don't make jokes about you doing it

You've been through some shit

Fuck Charron

Man throw a flag where I'm from motherfuckers would shoot through it



[Geechi Gotti]

Yeah



[Madflex]

And you do that shit for a "user pic"

I said I ain't no King Of The Dot computer kid

The day I found out about the hood, I didn't Google it

I didn't choose the shit

I was born there

I didn't move to it

I didn't drive through that motherfucker on a Uber trip

Geechi I've been too legit since you was in a uterus

You knew the shit

I Facetime with race riots the same violence, you witness you see the line

I just, just

[Flex chokes]

You see the line, and redefine the same shit that you did

But anyway, fuck that

Sorry

It's okay, I'm glad you're calm about it

I Facetime, and race riot, it's the same...

I'll get it back, hold on

I said and race riot same violence you witness you see the signs believe them lies and deny what you depict

You must

You know what

It's okay, it's tough to do this cause the honesty

It's the honesty that's coming out

Check this out

I'ma give him a closer

I'll give him a closer

I don't think you a bitch or poser

But if you stood with Craig and Smokey, Lil Chris would come and kick you over

I'm sorry

I'm sorry

I still slay y'all team

Next time the trip'll double (triple double) like Draymond Green

Be running through San Diego like Natrone Means

Man I'm sorry



Round 3: Geechi Gotti

[sighs]

Man...

N***a you's a bitch!

I'm on fire right now

This just finna add more steam

Yo, man, if I really wanted to hear a white boy preach, I'd have watched Joel Osteen!

No scheme, this just a fact

You look like when they say "White people be dressing black..."

See, he think 'cause he rapping with a black, and wear his hat to the back, that he is black

See that type of shit make me chuckle

Cause even if I beat his ass and gave him black eyes you still couldn't see our struggle

What you know about most the n***as I grew up with

They resting where I come from

N***a dying, that's a life lesson where I come from

These n***as don't know, how hard it is, they probably wouldn't even mess with where I come from

They say life's a gamble

Well, it's gotta be Blackjack...'cause making it to 21 is a blessing where I come from

From the mud, most these n***as die young

I'm talking every day there's a new n***a meeting they death

But now there's a lot of snitches so the police be knowing who pop without a DNA test

You wanna test me

But check this out

I gotta homie that never knew his dad

See that's reality, most of the world try to hide from it

The streets raised that n***a

He said the first time he met pops he died from it

Alright fuck it, they say I rap like a lost n***a

But in real life, I done lost n***as

Ain't shit fair

Sometimes I'd be looking to the heavens

Trying to talk to God about my dead homies

But shit, the way we was living, I ain't even sure if they went there

There's a lot of pain when I rap: we call that passion. bro

Cause I come from a place where death so common that funerals became a fashion show

We're so not even worried about, or even thinking about how them murders could affect they shortys

Shit them motherfuckers be so young, they couldn't even understand it

All they see is flowers and balloons: we gotta tell them it's a birthday party

True story!

Where I'm from, there ain't no snitching, that's a big brood

I done seen n***as get killed for how they bitch move

Move for the money only, I'm a cheap skate

After this box - aye, after this kill - you're going in a box forever, like a keepsake!

For Pete's sake, you finna get the same shit I give everybody!

Them problems is not minor

This Shots Fired?

[*gun click*] shots fired!

BAH! Now bullets kissing Flex: Scott Steiner!

Big poppa pump, I'm not a chump, nor a perpetrator

Pistol-whip him, till the steel coming out his face like the Terminator

Exterminator

Guess what, n***a the real is back

They ain't even see me shoot em

But Nico heard I peeled your cap!

The real is back!

They call Gotti to check the nerds

On my block with the rocks

Something like a cop 'cause I protect and serve

But when it's real, you can tell, you can see it in they eyes

Go 'head, it's over! Hope y'all didn't believe them lies!

N***a, time!