[Radio Host]
Aaaand we're back on the D-Low, where we're bringing you the hottest Hip-Hop in the game. That was Dwoyo spitting over Cole's banger "Fire Squad," and we actually got Dwoyo in here with us today

[Dwoyo]
Yes sir

[Radio Host]
Coming by to chill, talk shit for a little bit. But, first he's here to let fans know what real rap is all about, and take on our hand down challenge. (Marc Jackson "hand down man down" snippet)
Five beats, one after the other, just one take. You ready to show us what you got?

[Dwoyo]
I'm ready

[Radio Host]
You nervous?

[Dwoyo]
I mean, nah, I like having an open mic on me

[Radio Host]
Alright, let's get it to it then. Live on the air, Dwoyo, hand down challenge, only on the D-Low! Talk that shit!

[Verse 1]
Look
Soundcloud's got me inspired
The more I hear these wack rappers, the more I wanna spit fire
Dwoyo know I'll never let it expire
I'm going Kevin Gates, n***a I don't get tired
Mic check, one two one two
Tryna make my art permanent, I spit tattoos
With the ink I could murder and make a beat taboo
You spit shit over clean beats? That's shampoo
Fuck a mic check, one take, drive through, no breaks
Up late, tryna give my fans and I an update
You get what you put in
If you go soft to get the cream, all your gonna get is pudding
I'm tryna put a foot in, just testing the waters
But everybody's tryna jump in, so why bother?
Mitt's got me thinking, I ain't sinking, I'll be swimming
These binders full of rhymes gon get me binders full of women
Flew past the minor leagues, out of double A
At 19, I already had my double A
You bragging bout grades? Ain't ever heard of that
But my degree or rap will get me paid, and that's a fact
Ima tell the whole world I got money bitch
New balance on the account, yeah I run it bitch
This the, silver spoon feeding y'all a ton of shit
Come out with a hundred hits and still I'm never gonna quit

[Verse 2]
Soft breeze with the palm trees, boy I live for this
Dexter running the city, n***a I kill for this
Love music, stay grinding, hope I make a mill with this
I ain't gon expire, so I might as well keep milking this
Got Miami dudes waiting on a mixtape
I got Tally n***as thinking that my shit's great
Others hating on my looks, hating on my tone
Throw tomatoes at em fore he reach the microphone
I'm bout to set the bar higher, do you understand me?
The only bar you raisin's prolly gonna be a xanny
So pop it off with some alcohol and just go to sleep
When I finish with you, you'll want this gone from your memory
Murder every beat, instrumentalcide
Put a check next to my verses cause they certified
Ask any of my boys and they could testify
I'll give a quick freestyle if you ain't satisfied
Instrumentalcide, who's got the most deaths?
Someone should do the mathematics while I count what's left
Of every beat that I just killed just yet, I've got mad flows
Wack rappers just finger popping each others essholes
I know a girl who said her favorite game was Smash Bros
Listened to Mario, I told her lemme smash, yo!
Shots to the face was the remedy
Roommate waking up, I got her singing melodies

[Verse 3]
Oooh I'm so rude with it
I forgot you told me that you were prude and shit
Acting new to this, like when you saw it you didn't know what to do with it
Put me in a licky lullaby, bye-bye
And no longer am I that shy guy
Pretty bitches with highlights make up most of my highlights
She had me on the wall, then we bounce like it's jai alai
Buzzing off on these mai tai, now she grabbing on my tie
Fratboy I'm living the life, why lie?
I can't say the name, but just know it rhymes with I fly
Shit, I should probably take it more serious
Feeling delirious, bumping Bryson, I see the horizon
Drank so much I almost died, but that ain't surprising
Even when I'm hungover, I knock em out like Tyson
Green eye of the tiger, I know it's so enticing
I'm getting Buffalo Bills, I tell you boys Bison!
Shoutout to my boys, hear me at my best
But even at my worst they always seem to be impressed
And it's bros before hoes, unless I pull a chick that's so tight, I might even let the compress
Now you wanna call me lame my n***a?
If she's all up on your dick, you'd do the same my n***a
You should know which girls are fair game my n***a
I ain't gon say names, but that's a shame my n***a

[Verse 4]
Rondon know the deal, so he did it for Seur
Let him smash in the car but she ain't getting insured
Dude's that get no hoes are always the first to persecute
How the hell she murking you? I just said her purse is cute
All about the confidence, hit her with some compliments
And you could be like Washington and get her on your monument
Water all around me, I'm stranded, I like it
She rode my island like we were up in Providence
Don't compare me to them rappers me and them are opposites
Antonyms, they just wanna replicate the panda hymns
I got broads in Atlanta and Dominicana
Tallahassee to Miami, all of them harass me
Didn't know that I could rap? Well you should've asked me
Call me San Diego, I always keep it classy
But if you haven't noticed, I could be explosive
I'm going off the rails, I've got a locomotive
Watch me deliver, no Digiorno
All these lines on my head like cornrows
Liquor in the liver, four bros, four hoes
Who gon jump on the grenade? Nose goes
PC referees, don't get mad at me
My reality described in analogies
Now you're saying that my rhymes don't fit the right crowd?
Who are you tell me what I should rap about?

[Verse 5]
You know what? I'll go and kick with the rhythm
My inspirations through my prism
Oh yeah, I'll go three, four bars
And five, six, seven, eight
Yeah it's never too late, to witness the greatness
Oh man, you know that I've been stainless
You could show it, could hear it in my bonus
N***a I freestyle this and you should know this, I'm popping
And I ain't stopping, ain't got an option, let's get it popping
Abel to do it every weekend, so I do it often
Pen is mightier than the sword, and my pages full of battle scars
Wanna ride? You gon need to handle bars
I ain't crazy, I'm super saying!
I breathe fire from my dragon balls
Young Brennan dragging balls, all over the drum set, of this beat, go one breath, and fifth deep, you done yet? Forgive me, but
I do not know what a limit is
Wolverines know I go gump like I don't know where the finish is
I flow like every damn rapper combined
But only the good ones, bad ones don't mind
This the good ole fashioned Marc Jackson
Hand down, man down, I don't get distracted
Still got plenty, tank never getting empty
But to keep y'all waiting Ima stop an 120
Uh

[Radio Host]
What!?
(Woo!)
Hoooo! You heard it here first ladies and gentlemen
Oh my Lord! (Ay!)
I gotta, hold on a minute, I gotta get outta my seat for a second, hold on a minute (laughs)

[Dwoyo]
Fuck it, we going out!
We going out!

[Radio Host]
Oh my Lord!
You heard it here first, on the D-Low
Dwoyo