[Round 1: DNA]
I said, last time I was out here was Blackout 5
And for a while, I was telling Organik I ain't think that was fair
Considering I been in some of the biggest battles in this league and would've had the chain if n*ggas wasn't acting scared
But I did lose to Illmac 'cause I ain't have my raps prepared, excuses too wack to share
But all them Mac problems just made a n*gga from the Apple care
Now I'm back, the fans say, "Take a break"
I say, switch the flow, change the pace
He thought sh*t was norm’ and found out son a killer: I ain’t with Bates
He searched for the great escape
Thought the venue’s the safest place
But I’ll still sneak a star on the side: Bathing Apes
I don’t care if sir pen in his bag: Jake the Snake
I’ll share a couple points like great debates
The last dude ain’t make the plate
Fast food, let’s put it at Steak n’ Shake
A man’ll be prey with the mill’, so say your grace
Your combinations ain’t safe with me
He thought he got Deal and caught 30: now they yelling, “Take the plea!”
I got the ratchet-
I got the Roscoe on set: Jermaine Dupri
If that’s your girl, make ‘em leave
Or find a cookie on your BM: Baby D’
I’m in his crib, Kaepernick: I’m ‘bout to take a knee
Bring a end to his clique, then send him a clip before A.M., see
Y’all got DNA backwards trying to match A n’ D
The first 48 gon’ be a cold case if y’all see A & E
I’m into all type-
I’m into all types of sh*t
My mind is sick
I’ll left-right his sh*t
Then a knife get licked inside his hip
And bet I won’t strike in the same place like when lightning hit!
His jaw I’ll double-tap like I liked the pic
Then make him bolt with the cannon: that’s a pirate ship
He don’t want the smoke, like he trying to quit
All that climbing amount to nothing: that’s a hiking trip
Every rhyme legit
Your squad dying quick
I made sure Ward family ran from this iron fist
I don’t need the hype
I don’t believe he nice
I’ll split his sh*t, then give him tips like he need advice
No adobo, you ain’t seasoned right
If he would cross me, Jesus Christ
Whoever you wit’ needs a bodyguard: I’m coming for you and the preacher’s wife
All them sleepless nights, it f*cked with my mental, Ward
If I said something, it wasn’t by mistake, it’s ‘cause I meant to, Ward
Seeing dead bodies: that’s the type of sh*t I’m into, Ward
Hit you, then your men, too, Ward
Then peel with the arms over the body like a mental ward!
I get to checking Ward
I never been a friend of Ward
You gon’ need help from New Orleans by the 2nd, Ward!
I could say it forward or backward: either way, I’m ending Ward
Forward, backwards, they both end in “ward”
‘Cause in this first round, I just brought an end to Ward!
[Round 1: A. Ward]
He said he’d hit me twice like he liked the pic
Why it gotta come to this?
You wanna put the hands up. Why?
It is like when Kaepernick take a knee, ‘cause I saw you and Chess and, all a sudden, you became a stand-up guy!
You see, battle rap is falling off, and I feel it’s time something is said
It’s lost its rawness, that emotion
Some would argue that it’s done for, it’s dead
These veterans, they don’t perfect they craft
They no longer have the hunger, the edge
And I got in it ‘cause of how you used to be
So, every battle, consider me gluten-free…one of the few left that don’t come for the bread!
Saga hit my phone like, “A., you worried ‘bout what D pens?”
I said, “It depends.”
Honestly, I feel it, too, deep in
And, Eric, you done lost your noodle if you think any of your dog paddles survive in this deep end
You’re in trouble with this number two: you need Depends!
So, was this matchup music to my ears? Of course…Sweet Chin!
This a disgrace
Because, talent-wise, it is Sweet Chin Music
I feel it’s a step back…a knee-slapper…a kick in the face!
Bro, my plan for you is effortless
So, be cool, minimize the slander in your rhetoric
We don't need you
You’re a cancer to the betterment
I speak truth, the fans deserve better
It's egregious, you never give a top-notch effort
So, they sent me to destroy DNA like I tampered with the evidence!
Let’s talk about it
My king, he died on that big T
Eternal life was the care package
Now it’s official, rain or shine, so the twin Glocks you wouldn’t dare clap it
From Queens to Saga city, I get you drug out the room like DARE classes
I’m praying this top-tier came full of bars, ‘cause I ain’t blow up to get slept on like an air mattress
Now I know a lot of y’all probably caught the NWX members, but there was more to the rhyme
DNA’s double-stranded, so I also schemed, king, queen, twin, full, and air mattress to show how every head bored of your lines!
Bro, you battle every two weeks
Ain’t nobody put you on salary yet?
Of course not, ‘cause the wages you really earned was a reality check!
“PG Killer”? Even your slogan is straight trash
Who brags about beating opponents that are supposed to be under their weight class?
Not me: I’m in the pit, where darkness stretches like limo tint
To show people with broken pain how to get they window fixed
You got religious questions? Cool
Just don’t get loud on a crescendo tip
The game don’t stop here
We could take it outside like Nintendo Switch!
So, back down or stay in the background
‘Cause I’m here for a vision, impact crowds
You’re here for attention: a class clown
Make a decision: take pride in your craft now, or retire
‘Cause it’s jacked up you will take a nail in this blowout
But rather than live with despair, I could teach you how to fix a flat round!
I’m that nice!
They told me D hot
Watch out, he squeeze Glocks
I’m not ready, he’s not
Stop now, I overlap, a pot belly
If D talks a clean body, weaned off the Ox heavy
If we box, I’d tee off, bebop, then rock steady!
At the end of the day, when the dust clears, one thing remains, and it’s true
It took you 100 battles to get me…only took me eight to get you!
[Round 2: DNA]
I said, Blackout 7, the fans on the Internet should love this
But I bet the ones on the curb got bored
‘Cause I told Organik I wanted A…Verb, not Ward
Now everybody look confused like, “What I got in the Third? Not sure”
But in the Second, at any second, I bet the church may call
‘Cause they on to you, it’s the same tactics
He ain’t practice
On Friday, it’s fake gun gestures
On Sunday, it’s Saint Baptist
I never seen a great pastor tread the fine line on how he spray ratchets
But never let his four point: oh, this n*gga A average!
He straight wack
Besides the Christian gimmick, that’s straight facts
Or we could get it shaking with the pound: that’s JayBlac
112, Diddy: he finna take that
Danny Myers: y’all gon’ see a bald head going through A hat
He gon’ learn, when I’m rappin’, I'mma hurt him with passion
The reward was death, so that earnt him a casket
Not with the snitching
If the phone tapped, the whole curb get to spazzin’
I’ll give A. Z’s
Queens n*ggas been about affirmative action
You cool with Saga? Just ‘cause you a friend that’s a friend of me don’t make you a friend of me
Blackout 7, but you won’t be the end of me
I ain’t feeling his energy
Let me guess, when you was a young buck, you turned to Christ ‘cause you saw him selling for ten a key
No, you were a nerd named Aaron Ward, from Knoxville, Tennessee!
But I’m on the same sh*t, different day
I’ll put his clique away, then watch him spin with the fade
You think I’m kiddin’? Play!
Fif’ a K, or I could just let the milli’ spray
I’mma have bullets run in Aaron like a busy day
Every bar is hot
They waiting for it like a barber shop
But I’m on it: I want the static, whether the problem solved or not
I’m keeping clips, then squeeze between the whips: parking spot
Nick' on the backstreet, I give Aaron car the pop
It’s NWX: we ain’t a crew, we fam
Shine showed him the deuce, he ran
It’s no biggie, a pair’ll rock him like the Coogi brand
If I’m getting to his team, and the toolie jam
Then it’s to the mystery machine: that’s Scooby’s van!
Leg shot, he paralyzed: can’t move or stand
Now, they praying for the kid knees like a Boosie fan
I’ll get this dude homi'd: he’ll find God if I use the can
Or I’mma get a new body behind bars: Gucci Mane!
It’s time to see what the rap ‘bout
Tap out, or these’ll let four ring like we in Shaq’s house
He had clout, but then took a wack route
These hammers Verb and Caustic: they known to back out on Blackout
It’s no way you gon’ beat me, n*gga
And even though you ain’t a PG n*gga
You just lost Round Two to the PG Killa
[Round 2: A. Ward]
They say, in battle rap, the only way you are relevant-
-is for you to battle on a URL event
Well, I say, King of the Dot, make some noise!
You’re right, I’m from Knoxville, Tennessee
But you don’t know nothing about the path I been through
I was raised on Section 8
Every year, we took a coupon to a spot where they passed out gym shoes
So, missed me with all that struggle talk, ‘cause that’s not what I brought to the Blackout venue
However, I grew up with lines, rapping around the block
Why you think I’m so comfortable in a packed-out venue?
I swear this ain’t the action you want
I sacrifice to get my point across, like having to bunt
But not you, nah
Current event bar, Christian joke, sports jersey number attached to the pump
Let’s not forget about the other ‘mac in the trunk with the clip longer than Chipotle traffic at lunch
It’s so boring!
Miss me with them boring set-ups
“Something, something, holdin’ the nine”
You had 24 battles last year and no quotable lines
It’s like sleeping in on Clips’ couch how I’m holding it down
I pull strings, lights out: I’ll lower your blinds!
But for a second, forget about the crowd, and let’s just talk, DNA
I figured, since this is between D & A, we should probably abbreviate
See, this award you accepted, it wasn’t for the VMAs
You got it confused
In a hospital room, you not CNA
This not your life, stop being fake
For a brand, why do you let a dark spirit control you like E & J?
You getting smacked down in this ring
You not raw! You more TNA
But you out here letting the heater spray
Shells hitting the ground like Easter eggs
But when Chess pressed you on stage, you seemed afraid
Where was the toy!?
When the round stopped, you ducked noise like a See n’ Say!
Bro, why you up here battling me?
That thought of Lyt had you seeking shade?
Speaking of Davonne, hey, bro, you can chill with the blaspheming ways
Or catch this 30, Day, fast like you need a plate
This hunger, Eric! Maybe you not getting the message
You should be amazed
But you not making it to Saturday night, live like Tina Fey
The rounds going over your head: we playing keep-away!
Re-arranged the game
I stepped in, kept the breathing straight
All without conforming material, keeping peace and grace
Persevering through the comments, trolls, bloggers, and even saints
To stand BOLDLY on a stage with NO FILLER, just heat for days
In front of you on pay-per-view, with a shirt on that says, “Jesus Saves”!
So, go ahead and curse the movement! Charge up with it!
You told Loso you both believe in God
This is persecution to worship music
I guess we just lift our arms up different
That’s Round 2!
[Round 3: DNA]
I like that your shirt says, “Jesus Saves”, but I see a lot of chinks in your armor
It’s time I show y’all that this kid’s an actor
‘Cause why would you join a group called Yellow Tape Gang when you a Christian rapper?
Usually, yellow tape comes after the murder
Now, I ain’t saying you ain’t with the right team
But I think them n*ggas made you part of their group so you could be the one that has to pray at the crime scene
Like, “Dear Heavenly Father, I hope 100 Bulletz has 100 bullets with a nice beam
I hope NuBorn throws enough punches to make this fight mean
I hope Bonnie’s on Wild n’ Out, but she’s on a dyke team
And Mike P throws enough Hadoukens to make a nice scheme."
But you beyond fraudulent, but it’s no reason to hate you
‘Cause you fell into my trap, and I needed an angle
The fans doubted, they ain’t believe I could take you
I got at him to even son out so y’all could see that I’m able!
I ain’t speak first, then my research was reading the fables
The Last Supper, but with this mill’, I ain’t trying to eat at the table
You think Mike P’s your boy!? It’s too easy to slay you
It’s in the Bible: I’m just waiting on P to betray you!
See, you claim you Jesus, son, but your hand gestures say you keep a gun
But all y’all Christians say it ain’t the same
I just feel like if your drive’s for HOV, then stop changing lanes
You treading a fine line
Go full-force and make a change
So, from here on out, don’t use God’s name in vain!
Just ‘cause I don’t say I’m Christian, I believe in God
Let’s set the record straight
‘Cause God was there when my mom got abused in a domestic state
Daddy died, we both was on SSI and Section 8
But when you deal with something love handles, you carry extra weight!
Y’all all say y’all Christian, but y’all milli-grippin’: it’s extra fake
You don’t get a pass for putting bucks in a round: this ain’t the collection plate
Just ‘cause you know the rule-maker don’t mean you can legislate
It be these type of n*ggas that get denied at Heaven’s Gates
And it’s time I school him, from start to finish
You got 100 bars a minute, but your whole style says you a clone: it ain’t hard to mimic
I’m the Gatekeeper, have to give y’all a visit
Hashtagging you Christian with shirts: you think God’s a gimmick
You preach the Word, I keep my word: our sponsors different!
LET’S WORK! LET’S WORK!
All them verses from the Exodus, but can’t bring the X of this: our bars is different!
You wait ‘til Sunday, I can’t wait to son Day: our job is different
You pray with your Pops, I see prey with my pops: our fathers different!
I ain’t the same rappin’!
Ego got me in the game spazzin’
So, pride’ll make sure I’m Gucci: I do nothing in the same fashion
You, Loso, Street Hymns: think y’all cool with great passion?
Y’all keep thinking these Christians united, until I plain drag ‘em!
It’s Round 3, it’s getting hot in here
Canada, y’all know my slogan
(GET THE f*ck OUTTA HERE!)
Hell no, get this wannabe actor the f*ck outta here!
Get this Christian so-called rapper the f*ck outta here!
Get all them lines that ain’t matter the f*ck outta here!
And I seen that impersonation on Instagram: get Dizaster the f*ck outta here!
[Round 3: A. Ward + DNA]
I don’t think y’all realize how easy that is
“We talk about cells different, I dial different
We run a different race, I walk miles with it"
I get on here and rap, and I smile different
Eric St. John, it’s finna get even more ruthless
And the exit? It’s over there if you need to go, bro
‘Cause you just not tight as me
View-wise, you do numbers
But, once they put that mic around my collar, I said, “Forget promo!”
Like, Organik, find us some judges
‘Cause when I say a bar, accent and all, they like, “A. must be cooking! Geez!”
And mark my words: Cor’, in the end, you gon’ understand exactly why they keep booking me
Now y’all look intrigued
Probably thinking to yourself, “Son, that’s wack!”
Well, that’s cool
Do me a favor
Look at your neighbor and tell ‘em, “You gon’ think it’s fire when I- (RUN THAT BACK!)
I said, ST. JOHN, RUTH-less
The EXODUS over there if you need to go, bro
You not TITUS me
You do NUMBERS, but once the MICAH ‘round my collar, forget promo!
Find JUDGES, when ISIAH bar, ACTS-ent and all, AMOS be cooking! Geez!
MARK my words, CORINTHIAN
Y’all know exactly why they keep BOOKING me!
Now, look at D! Lock horns!
They here for my pen, not yours!
My stock soared, and I came in a 10…like holiday popcorn!
But they want performance over bars these days!
Well, I got two gats!
One starts to do a random dance move, and the other shoots back
Then I get to walking all weird with the chopper
Are y’all confused yet?
HALF these dudes lie through they teeth…AND YOU COULD LITERALLY DO THAT!
Bro, you smell like you haven’t BATHED since Blackout 5!
You’re lying. I took a shower earlier
This is straight facts!
And I recognize that wardrobe
I GUARANTEE you haven’t washed that since the Pat Stay match!
Y’all stop me if what I’m saying ain’t true
THIS looks like the kid in class that ate glue!
All right, let’s change moods
‘Cause, vers’ Loso, you said some stuff that made me cringe
Exactly how you rap: “The five’ll lift up my pants without axing Bundy!
You’ll get dissed in the Six without axing Cudi!”
I can’t reiterate how much you have a lazy pen
So, this is the part where I start to show that you lack fervor
And everything from me is gold and original, like rap Werther’s
Ranks or charts, I’m past proving that I’m raw
So, now, I’m shooting up them all like mass murders
So, here’s a little tip, like bad service
I’m here to stay for a while like black churches
I’m making veteran moves: a fast learner
And I’m a problem to these veteran dudes like flag burners
This new wave ain’t the type to attract surfers
Everything we put out dope, like trap workers
So, I could give a flying…FORGIVENESS if you a gat-squirter
‘Cause I don’t believe a round ‘til I see it like Flat-Earthers!
Who needs a pocket check when you can tap further
Into the soul of a bum who Smack nurtured?
I ain’t playing games no more like crashed servers
And DNA getting dusted for prints like cat burglars!
Let’s call a spade a spade
Who you know that’s nice and new to the scene?
The answer better be Aaron
The wrong stare’ll put two to your spleen
I told ‘em, “They need a Plan B? We could do it in Queens!”
I’m top pen in your town
SPAYED, NEUTER, BARIN’, PLAN B
I ain’t finna be on YouTube time: we are not kidding around!
Look, I am 8-0 on the scene, and the key is even higher
I put the capo on the strings
And I ain’t stopping until the case closed
‘Til I Django the chain off whoever on that throne in the ring
Put ‘em six feet in the dirt, on a pay-per-view stream that’ll work
And have J. Lo and Drake hosting the thing!
I’m that nice!
And I ain’t come to get personal with you
But I brought enough bars to bury you and any person that’s with you!
So, go ahead and call up Shine
And tell him he can fall in line
And God is good (ALL THE TIME!)