[Round 1: The Saurus]
Between battling at Blackout or in Cali, this could only be in one place
So I’ma beam you up I hope your son can read the updates
I knew you’d get your second chance to meet with Jesus some way
But you hadn’t crossed me yet, so why would I go east to son Day?
The floodgates are open, better flee that ship
Everyone I’m with, draw, like a rehab stint
No cheap antics, just rap from me, that’s it
Three rounds in your face, on some ski mask shit
You ain’t never been served like this
And I put every single word I spit on Irvine Crip
Sight locked on my target, they brought y’all a marksman
I’m perched up at Lee Harvey Oswald’s apartment
They said I can’t punch with him
But if I knock off his jaw, then he gon’ hear me break it in like the watchdog is barking
I’ll shut Day’s clock off so it’s not so alarming
When I stop Spawn from starting like I shot Todd McFarlane
Fuck it, I’m in monster mode
Card shark, the water’s cold
Wash and fold Day like I got the day off: office closed
I’ve got it locked
Player one, let the cartridge load
Game on, I’ll catch thirty to life like the Contra code
Try me
I’ll show up to son’s front porch, and
Put rounds on the house like I just uncorked it
My right’s so well known I got a plus one for it
To drop Lyt all night
I don’t think sons up for it
Of course there’d be a chance he came with antics
Day’s an anarchist
But if he did, then shit, I got one too
Get Day an ambulance
He been dead since the day that Day was handed this
Now, give Day a hand, and pay the data analyst
It’s gonna take for Day to handle this
Half your battles, you’re the dopest rapper that I’ve seen
The other half, you do shit that’s a cancer to the scene
So keep that shit in mind next time you get all costumed up
What Lyt does outside the West still reflects on all of us
[Round 1: Daylyt]
Personally, I believe no battle rapper is perfect
We all did some damage
We all done put people in a situation where they get to cheer
And some where y’all get to panic
I done created so many people in my head, people may call it genius
And some may say it’s what they call schizophrenic
I’d like to sacrifice this first round just to talk to my antics
I look all my fans in the eyes and say I’m sorry for the P. Diddy blog
I’m sorry for the gay shit
I’m sorry for losing the title shot, I’m sorry for the slave fit
I’m sorry for walking out on Rone, that shit was bad for my damn health
And to show y’all how sorry I am for the Loe Pesci battle
I’m about to wipe ball sweat on my damn self
But wait, y’all didn’t get the elbow
I didn’t wipe ball sweat on my face cause I had doubts to blow up
I wiped ball sweat on my face ‘cause I’m about to go nuts
I been living in a dope situation, and it’s not a crack house
I’m back cause I got to wig on these college kids
Start bucking inside their frat mouth
The “keep it going” style was colder than Big Shirley, but surely
N***as put their hands on the flow (floor) like they tried to tap out
Pussy fight let me see what these cats ‘bout
It’s a camp out
I’ll send him fire. It’ll be the same enemy as taking the bat route
Think Bane these mouth bars, they got to face it
Fact, they Drake'd it
They sent us back to Back to the Basics
But yet I’ll still finna Blackout
Why do they book gods versus these baby fruit flies?
And I get to burying maggots
I’ll put him underground for free like Harriet traffic
Get planted soon as they told you they would let us (lettuce) in the ring
And soon to find out he married a cabbage
What, y’all ain’t get it? I’ll leave his wife vegetable
We set fire to any female carrying static
That’s the price you got to pay for being the wife of an aryan faggot
These words is stone like the Sumerian tablets
I’ll put holmes in a hole, like damn, he a rabbit
Fuck what you done, give your crew tons (croutons)
Leave them all vegetable, they can be a salad
The land we abandon, tand me a band and
I’ll go for the steal, like damn, he a bandit
The best Day, you couldn’t rest Day if you hand me the Sabbath
You would/wood handle me, if you can, be a cabinet
Metal arms to his top man see the Gadget
I was the first on Earth saying shit like this
Damn, he the raddest
The plan be the stratosphere in here with the—
{Organik calls time}
[Round 2: The Saurus]
You ‘bout to get everybody in your pod casted
I am a dirt
You’ll get hit with everything, from nines to fives
I am a work
I’ll leave you neck-less (necklace), I’ll put my Life on that
I am Alert
You can feel it in your chest, I got this body covered
I am a shirt
Yo, Day, how come lately you’ve been lazier with your writing than ever?
I got something hot headed your way, I am a temper
You said, “I am a looper”, “I am a worm”, “I am the Bart”, “I am a render”
Come on, man
You used to be way better than this
I am remember
Pretend you’re a grown man, your word’s worth more than weight
This ain’t a turf war with great, but I’ll turn Norman Bates
I got a dozen extra rounds I’m too dirt poor to waste
And got away with murder after the first four D ate/48
That shit is so easy to do, I wrote this one round for you, dawg
The metal I bring to the table leaves you spun ‘round; that’s Foosball
This Kombat will chop cats; I’ll Kung Lao your roof off
How can we trust Daylyt when son/sun down to moon y’all?
Now, I got something cold in the chamber; cryogenically
Agent K, I’ll flash on Day and wipe y’all’s memory
I don’t need Shine, so why the fuck is Lyt/light on next to me?
What the fuck’s a Day got to a lifelong legacy?
Nothing, I’m getting gold, closing the loop
Uppercut, skylight, put a hole in your roof
I was gonna talk about all of the accomplishments that you’ve blown playing hoops
But I didn’t want this round to start getting emotional Oops/Ooops
Now you know that you can’t dodge your punishment and payback
You want to blow someday? Well, Puffy can arrange that
Your pen’s more shaky than the one that did your face tat
I’ll catch a case over this like a Money in the Bank match
[Round 2: Daylyt]
At one point in time, n***as used to think the Earth was flat, until Columbus came
Y’all let a mass murderer tell y’all anything, and y’all believe it
In the end/Indian, he left everybody dead, cold blooded
And that’s when the game got anemic
Cause the white sails/cells went sky-high
You folks left the glue coast/glucose, and I got to free these n***as
First shot from the index, then blood spill
Whoever’s gonna die ‘a be these/diabetes n***as
Thinking life too sweet
The pencil insulin fight dude
I ain’t the type to/two text a n***a
Organik pack the card and I deads a n***a
Everybody get chewed, Hannibal Lecter n***a
I Do this write/Right Thing, I’m Spike Lee;
Nike, every step, I got to check them n***as
You come in testing (intestine) me, but I can’t stomach their lines
I got a gut feeling I’m ‘bout to wreck them (rectum) n***as
You gassed, trick (gastric)
Fuck around and get bypassed if I pass you by
They asked you try to be tier/tear, and you just end up being the last who cry
My big homie say
“Fuck the money. Take every opportunity you get, cause this life’ll pass you by.”
I’m from the era where you had to go nuts
It ain’t matter how much cash you (cashew) got
All men (almond) get snapped on
The deacon peeking/pecan
But they’ll depict the killers
In Watts, they was raising/raisin nuts
Soon as I hopped on the trail, mixing n***as
To get to the top action, we see n***as like TheSaurus, we not rapping
We give them the best mouth beat in the world, Scott Jackson
But I been wigging since a youngster, O.J. Mayo type
Mayo white, but I black the Bayo type
Fifty cents (50 Cent), we wave hands in his face, Tony Yayo night
I prey your type
Arbiter slashing ya with the Halo knife
So many guns, n***a, this shit gon’ look like a Halo fight
Think Day go light, I snap on these squares perfect n***a, I’m Lego nice
You wouldn’t get a piece of this small round with a Bagel Bite
Day gon’ fight
Two shots to his body
The lower half still there; the top half real flat
Before the shot, Pat Stay, after the shot, Illmac
I’m back
I’m back
You feel the spine
But before I go in, Malathion...time

[Round 3: The Saurus]
That Solomon battle was weird
I Remember The Time when you said you wanted to Make a Change
And right then, the example was clear
That match was reflective of Michael Jackson’s career
Nothing Black or White, just standing there
Watching something so Bad from The Man In the Mirror
You think you bodied Iron, but listen, that’s something I’d like to revisit
The irony is that your ego’s so easily bruised because Lyt’s really iron deficient
But now Day thinks he’s gonna son me, like I am the infant?
I’ll take flight on Daylyt like sky is the limit
In a minute, the game’s changing. I’m finna body; waist training
Son/sun facing the crack of dawn, now Day breaking
I ain’t got to try hard, yeah, I got some light/'Lyt bars
But in one shift, I’ll punch into Day like a timecard
Clock it
Try not to misuse your minutes, or this dude is finished
Just stick to your gimmicks
Your fucking tattoo looks like shit, dude admit it
You are Spawn from the comics, you’ve got issues with Image
I’m sick of all the extra shit, though, it's sad ‘cause you way talented
But the example that you set as a man? Well, I ain’t down with it
Tell me, a decade from now, you gonna act like you ain’t proud of it?
When you ask your son how he did on his SATs
And he says he antic’ed his way out of it?
I knew it was a risk, but this battle was me taking my own chances
So when they ask why, I’ll say the same thing I told ‘ganik
Day could be the best in the game if he goes back
To the way that he rapped before all the fame had him so famished
Now he looks for any card he can play and then goes Gambit
But he ain’t even notice his ace in the hole vantage
Every match, you should show up in the same thing you rocked against Pat
When you went for the chain, cause you’re a slave to your own antics

[Round 3: Daylyt]
Third round is when I let the heat blow fast
Organik, you stop me time this time, I’ma beat yo' ass
We could’ve had a hardwood classic
A throwback an old jersey, sure (Jersey Shore), but I don’t rock with Snooki
This when I got to tuck the lead for these knuckleheads
But I ain’t forgot the noogie
A three round barfest, yes, but this is when I got to stop the goodie
Cause when I look at your face, all I can remember is
When Locksmith said you look like a Chewbacca woodie
You looked at me and said, “Mmmm,” and did this awkward boogie
But that’s back when you and Okwerdz was popping
And the top of the hip hop was true
The leaders of the backpackers
Telling the world a Smack rapper is what not to do
I remember they followed you
I read my Locksmith comments like, "This wack Smack rapper.” That shit left me with hurt pride
Knowing I was the only street n***a in G.T
And y’all labeled me one of the worst guys
But yet the worst ride from first prize
The same n***as who had multis now all rap about how they gon’ hurt guys
Facts
I just seen a battle where Reverse Live said, “I’ma squirt nines.”
Had me like, “Are you serious?”
But that’s what your people do
Y’all make the world hate us for something we do
Then y’all do it and make it look cool
That’s when the plan unfold
Prime example: Sir Mix-a-Lot video
“Ew, Becky, look at her butt.”
Now every white bitch want to look like Amber Rose
N***a, we created everything, but y’all take it, and leave us demanding for respect
Speaking of Amber Rose
I would give you white bitches the finger, but(t), Organik cut my check
I should go for the mark out, but all they gon’ say is, “How come I’m testing you?”
This shit about to Okwerdz
Cause it’s fitting to be a one rhyming, gun lining punchline festival
Are y'all ready for this?
If it’s a party, hand me my grand baggy grab bag
They told me Ron died, I was mad Caddy fast passed
The hand scrammy blam blam, shoot his granddaddy grand dad
Two fives on side his face, naa nanny naa naa!