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Swave Sevah vs O-Solo
[O-Solo comes out on stage to classical music, dressed up in a straitjacket and Hannibal Lecter mouthpiece mask.]

[Round 1: O-Solo]
It's O-Solo versus Swave Sevah
And this shit ’bout to be way clever
Oh, you thought you was gon' win?
Well let me reenact the Fight Klub, this is how it all begin
I'm from a place up in space where you lips screwed
Never ending bullets, invisible clips glued
Might make ’em hurl up his stomach like mixed foods
Or might get 'em jumped in a gang where the Crip's rule
[O-Solo Crip-walks]
My first intentions right now is to clip dude
But his nose bleedin', he ain't got brains to get tissue
Asshole, leakin' all over my slick shoes
Jab, jab, uppercut, I'll fix you!
This n***a lunch, I'm not responsible for what I eat
Pork shoulder to prime rib, I’m talking O’s in beef
Gun made his shoulders weak, I'm just saying, so to speak
Desert Eagle hitting whoever sit next to, Toby Keith
I’m like a monument, my army's on reconnaissance
Flags get hung in the balance to show my dominance
Cocaine a hell of a drug, he ain't know, tell 'em what’s up
Nostrils that can sniff up ten bottles, and have you sellin' ya' stuff
Want me to ask 'em for you, Mr. Speaking-Class-Ignore-You?
Basura, n***a turn him into arroz con pollo
It's like a chess move, ya' queen got a neck wound
Walking through the forest with starving artists from Neptune
That's outer space, this n***a is outta weight
And he don't wanna fuck with O-Solo 'cause it's the safe
The last level of rap, God sent me to do this shit
Fuck work, I put in overtime
I get the job done like hammer, wrench, pliers, thin wood and loose attire
Largely misunderstood, but fluent with the floetry
The Ford is inconspicuous but still a n***a notice me
Nobody cares, I swear to God I should reconcile
I do a show and some of the guys pull they weapons out
It's 'cause I'm raw and I provide such electric style
Go toe to toe and take that ride, wit' ya' head held down
I'm raw as fuck, the block is even harder
Get jacked for yo' chain and stole for ya' Starter- you don't got even got a chain
Stole for ya' Starter
The East Coast Head-Nog, The Two-One Crip-Walk, The Baby Lane Attitude, The Nutcase Outlaws
The Garden State just ain't harvesting Grapes
We got vegetables that y'all shouldn't waste
Regardless of taste, you get your orange peeled, the hardest of hate
And leave your onion on the side of the safe
Talk to him, talk to him
What you, Team Homi? Team Homi?
No, fuck it, it's Team Lobby
That's where y'all at 'cause y'all never could get inside, b
Oh, just for the event, of course, we had to let you in
I'm the original, Bill Collector is just invisible
Iron Solomon, I abolish him in the physical
[Round 1: Swave Sevah & O-Solo]
Ayo, I wanna start this battle out with a prayer
Can we all just bow our heads real quick
Father God, we come to you very humble, to pray for the soul of this dumb n***a O
'Cause it's obvious he know not what he got into, so wit' yo' permission I'ma show him the way to go
'Cause he carry on with this character or in this attitude like he's your gift to this rap
He says he was sent by you and if this true, forgive me Lord, 'cause I'm sending him back
I'ma burn this n***a to ashes, no casket, I'ma urn a n***a
Package, gift wrap it, and stamp on it 'return to sender'
I ain't the one to play with dog, nothing can save him
His soul moving on up, Sherman Hemsley style, amen
See I'ma hit you with life-threatenin' punches, so for your sakes, I hope you can fight back
And after I beat him b, don't be tweeting me like "Yo Swave, why you do Solo like that?"
Fuck him
You ain't saying shit
He was doomed the day he opened his trap
He use me as an excuse for him to overreact
Mad I said his name against O-Red, n***a should thank me for that
Half of these n***as ain't even know you could rap
So let's get it n***a, what? You and I, now it's do or die
Them gifts you think God blessed you with, you better utilize
You blasphemous bitch, you really feel that you divine?
Well cross the crossed path of my crosshairs you getting crossed out, crucified
I give you that Christ treatment
Shit was corny
Pin him up so his believers can view him die
Then Roman soldier the n***a and stick a spearhead through his side
I'll fuck you up, one punch makin' ya' ribs break
The drunken monk, I'm still tipsy off the wine I made out of that big Grape
From yo' city, that's what this is all about, right Solo? Let's keep it real
You trying to avenge them other two Newark n***as that I killed
You trying to prove a point, you wanna show them you got skills
You want recognition as the first battle rapper to get a deal, right?
So let's talk about it
I got the deal
I'ma tell y'all what really happened at TVT
They folded for signing rappers sounding like they on PCP
Lil Jon, Ying Yang Twinz, O-Solo, y'all notice the pattern?
But see them n***as made millions, you only made it to Madden
Stomp the Yard, fuck outta here
So yeah, they signed ya' clown ass, but they never put ya' album out
So to be honest, ya' rap career ain't really nothin' to brag about
Plus they paid Fight Klub judges under the table to give you ya' wins
No, they didn't
I'm lying n***a?
You lying
I know for a fact they did it when you went against Nems
You's a fraud
That's my word, n***a
I don't lie about nothin', n***a
I don't lie about nothin'
You's a fraud, fuck outta here, ain't nobody think about ya' bitch ass
Miss me, matter of fact, swerve me, with the temper tantrums and ya' riff raff
For n***as not to mention you in eight years, you gotta be trash
You think you gon' make a comeback and beat me? You gotta be gas
Kill that thought, that gotta be fast
I'm a scalpel away from turning this battle to biology class
Hold on, tell me this, how can a n***a claim he Heaven sent
And for the past eight years the bitch n***a been irrelevant
He tried to rap with this wizard voice and his speech impediment
It's funny how came from a battle scene, but here he out of his element
So just move, do us all a favor and step to the rear
Or prove, you was really sent by God and resurrect ya' career
'Cause I ain't the one homie, you 'bout it? Well we gon' see
There's six million ways to die, n***a you chose me
Team Homi
[Round 2: O-Solo & Swave Sevah]
I'm extraordinary, a one-man gang ready for war
Strong retarded, I can pull a tugboat ashore
Mount on my back a bull, mule and two goats
And I'll come back with fresh milk, raw beef and two coats
I'm the blindfolder that climbs Rovers with nine shoulders
And able to withstand the weight of a pine sofa
Combined holsters that shine, roast ya' before the time's, culture
I'm fine roper, but can we take home those design loafers?
If this n***a try to diss us, he gon' piss bud and shit pus
Doubt it
I ripped a lotta, hit a lotta, did a lotta stuff
And I'm not happy being trapped in the ghetto
I'm happy being strapped with the black MAC when the smoke settles
I'm not an amateur, you youngins wet behind the ears
Get ripped from ass for appetite, but only if you volunteer
Don't be if a victim if woulda coulda was wit' him
If woulda coulda was wit' him, he woulda coulda continued livin'
I'm the blindfolder that climbs rovers with nine shoulders
Like I said I'ma say that again
I'm the bli- nah I'ma go to something else
I'm back now, all I wanna say is
One of my n***as, bring two n***as
Then two n***as, go get three
Two n***as, bring four n***as
Then four n***as come back and alert me
Two n***as, bring three n***as
And three n***as, bring four
Four n***as bring five n***as, and five n***as bring more
Out here in this world, you get done dirtier than dandruff
Speaking of dandruff, there's this fucking weave in your head
You got fucking weave in your head
Oh my God
You dangerously close to getting dangerously killed
I'm a dangerous n***a, wit'- wit' a dangerous skill
Dangerous in a vest and dangerous in the flesh
If dude think he dangerous then we'll dump dums in his chest
My gat'll peel ya' like the average killer
You'll star in a [?] doin' the bus stop to the caterpillar
Like I said, one n***a, bring two n***as
Two n***as, bring three
Three n***as, bring four n***as
Four n***as go and alert me
Two n***as bring three n***as and three n***as bring four
Four n***as bring five n***as and five n***as bring more
Team Homi, you don't want it with us
I don't know why I did this, why I did it?
[Round 2: Swave Sevah]
This n***a government is Omar Hurt, Hurt
That in itself is a verse, are you fucking shitting me?
But then again I guess it works, because Hurt, perfectly explains that fucked-up delivery
But then again I don't even think that's ya' real last name, to be real wit' you
I think when you was a orphan, them other orphans often bullied and assaulted ya' little frail-ass frame
Fight break out, staff find you bloody balled up with the ripped shirt
Look at him go "Ayo fam, this little n***a always the one that get hurt"
Ya' name was a inside joke to every worker in the office there
N***a you was such a punk, they put you in protective custody in foster care
N***a spent so much time alone, he created these characters to pretend with
See that explains the voice, that's how he sound when he carry on with these imaginary friendships
N***a sound like a n***a calling your phone on some prank shit
All the parents in the house be careful, 'cause this what happen when ya' kid eat too many paint chips
My n***a I'm a real n***a fam, I attack from a different standpoint
So fuck all these alien sound effects, talk to me in ya' man voice
There is so much I can say about this n***a that'll chalk him out
But half of y'all don't know this n***a, so y'all ain't gon' know nothing that I'm talking 'bout
So real quick I'ma give y'all a quick rundown on how his life was
Four-time champ at 106, right? Five
Five-time champ at 106, and supposedly undefeated at the Fight Klub, right? Yes
Fuck 106, that shit is thirty second rounds and you automatically lose if you slip up and curse
In Fight Klub, with 60 seconds of random bars and you had to give up your turn if you stumbled through ya' verse
So please tell this n***a, what the fuck we do here, and be vivid
Then ask yourself if you can take this fuckery for three minutes
'Cause I can't
You think I'm a nerd rapper, n***a? You think I'm a passive, do you?
Like I won't clap ratchets and have bullets passing through you?
Like I won't snap bad and do this fucking bastard brutal?
My nature is graphic, crucial, don't let these glasses fool you
My n***a, I'm a career criminal, to me that's more than letting ya' heater spark
But every move you do gotta be strategic, you gotta think the part
And for instance, I ain't got no tattoos, to a lot of people that's just ink and art
But police like to identify n***as by distinctive marks
So I'm good
The eyes are the windows to the soul, they should never be overlooked
That's how I know this n***a fake, yours is reading like an open book
I get it, you mad 'cause at Summer Madness 2, Smack brought all the vets back, and nobody called you
I don't like Summer Madness
My n***a, fuck outta here
Listen my n***a
I like UW
You have style, but you ain't bringing this shit to where it's at now
You ain't battle rap's first class, you just a class clown
A pure joke, this the type of n***a that be rappin' on the corner in Newark in the summer time, rockin' a fur coat
But Solo's one of Jersey's greats? Allegedly
Ayo Ars', I was mad at you for that bullshit you said to me
N***a said "Swave, would you battle Solo? Around here he's a legend, b
Plus I wanna find him a battle, n***a been beggin' me"
Ars', you know I'm telling the truth, n***a
By a show of hands, how many people in here heard of a legend that had to beg to battle?
All the legends I know, be gettin' begged to battle
They even ask me why I take this battle?
He don't deserve to sit on the high horse, I said "No, but he can change the saddles"
Bum-ass stable boy n***a
Ayo, n***as make predictions about this event, and I ain't see nobody say you winnin'
N***as make they top five battle rappers, I never seen you in it
Be real, n***as don't even care about this match up, this shit is all regrets
If I lose, it's because preparin' for you had me bored to death
But, when it's lucrative, I give a fuck who it is, it's great promo
But in this case I'ma be a fugitive after I K Solo
'Cause I ain't the one homie, you 'bout it? Well we gon' see
There's six million ways to die, n***a you chose me

[Round 3: O-Solo & Swave Sevah]
If looks could kill, he'd stare me down
But I'm too physical, I beat a n***a barely sound
You won't hear nothin', true
And if he mumble something outta disrespect, I smack an apology out you
Now apologize again, say "I'm sorry"
No
My caliber calculated through calculus equals you counting, on ya' last four fingers: don't count on it
You seen Jay? Hold up, like I ain't pistol-packing with more packers than Green Bay
Fu-- Yo
[Crowd interrupted]
Fuck outta here
C'mon
Y'all need to, I just wanna, I just want this over
Let him speak
Hold on, I just wanna say Swave old and all his bitches is 45
These the type of bitches you kick it to just to get a ride
I just wanna put that out there right quick
It's more than likely, if I blow up, then I'll live dice-free
But I'm sheisty, cooler than ice tea
Still no one likes me, 'cause I'm price free
Pick up a nice key, fish scale like Pisces, I might be
The one to take the loss but that ain't like me
You slightly, I'm full blown
Shout out the neck like [?]
I'm aiming for yo' shin, ankle, and knee bone
You wanna learn, I'm willing to teach y'all
Don't have me smack the back of Swave neck like a beach ball
Now this n***a push me to the limit it's over, done with, and finished
When I get in it I end it while leaving the barrel spinnin', it's endless
To when I peel out when it's rhyme time
And on guidelines, I break every rule 'til I feel I'm fine
I pick up Shiva from my brother's keeper, knowledge the teacher, beast through ya' speaker
Keep it open like wide receiver
My millimeter is nine cock, Swave said that I'm hot
But I'm not, gonna be the one put in a pine box
Yes you is
Gather my peoples, I lethally leave you see-through
If you was the Beatles, then we would have a chance, for we're unequal
My Desert Eagle is cocked back
Give me my prospect or the first one that exit this chamber, enters that dirty-ass top hat
You done?
Nah, as I said once before, 'cause I'm from the fuckin' street
One n***a bring two n***as
Two n***as bring three
Three n***as bring four n***as and four n***as come alert me
I can't do my thing? Seriously?
Scared of what, motherfucker? Scared of what?
Scared of shit
Ain't nobody dead, I'm breathing, I'm alive
Shit is fucking wack
Here we go
I could see his brains in the barrel, it's funny how Swave growl
Miss Lorraine sing the carol 'cause his name's in the Herald
Obituary, '05, matter of fact, two thou', one-two
You just something to stick the gun to
Fade off the tonic bitch, we throwing out the skrilla
Crime pays, that's why we went and signed Godzilla
Come fuck with Leonidas, the bow and arrow tightest
The game wanna bite us, but we change with the crisis
Like gangs out in Rikers
Swave wanna get his head torn
Fuckin' with the beef and run every time's the lead's drawn
The bullets in his back
Them things, we got rid of 'em, and ain't no comin' back
You fuckin' with a n***a ain't got no idea
Still I'm packin' a gun where there's no idea
'Til I pull out that thing that I'll call "No Idea"
Then, shoot you in ya' face, you won't have no eye there
You want a metaphor, motherfucker?
You want a metaphor, there go one for yo' ass
Bitch, give me 22 minutes and 20 seconds
And I pull twin weapons out of this twin-breasted suit and start collectin'
The two-time, double cross, the second-in-command
The 20 bluff 'em having had a blunt from both hands
Two weeks from now, I'll be 2000 miles away
Doing the two-step, with two Spanish mamis I met today
At two in the morning I'll be ready to take a nap
'Cause at two in the afternoon I'm having brunch, with a 20 sack
Two Cocker Spaniels, two bottles of Jack Daniels, two nickel-plated nines, pearl clips, with pearl handles too
Too many rappers done try to do too much to me
I got a toolie, but I'd rather hit yo' punk ass, wit' a two-piece
You gon' let me spit?
Stop it, Stevie, fucking Ray Charles back there, for real, seriously
You disrespect, and when the light's dim, I'm creepin' in, even the reaper sin
And for the right price I'll sneak again, peep ya' friend
Fuck y'all, bitch I'm shining, I'm flossing
And I won't stop until they put me in the coffin
My diamonds, be costin'
Don't even think that I would let you take 'em off me

[Round 3: Swave Sevah & O-Solo]
Listen, real quick, I'ma tell y'all a quick story real quick
The year was 2003, right, my eyes was low and shit
No sour then, back then n***a was smoking 'dro and piff
I'm chilling with my road dog Bish
He started telling me how he would kill it if he made it on 106
I'm like "That's bullshit"
He says "Swave, with me being from Canada
It'd help my career if I was on BET's cameras
Dog, I ain't no slouch at the bars, I get it in"
I joke, I said "N***a if you make it on that show, you better win"
We laugh, but then we got focused and started taking action
Made some phone calls, somehow we gon' make this happen, right?
I say "Yo let's go down there dog, let's just show up"
N***as said they got a challenger already, I said "So what?"
Let's just explain to the n***a, and explain the situation
And if that don't work, that's my word, I kick his face in
So we went down there right, tryna see who's who, playing it low pro
I'm in goon mode, casing the place, watching for popo
I'm like "Yo find this n***a, I dare him to tell us it's a no-go"
I found him, guess who the challenger was y'all? Solo
So I peeped the steez, he had braids with beads, was nothin' tough
Bishop asked him, the n***a said no, I started to fuck him up
But Bishop grabbed me said "Nah", he spoke to some chick, say he came from Canada
And it worked 'cause she worked there, and made Bishop the challenger
She bumps Solo
I'm lyin', n***a?
You lying
You a fucking liar
I'm not from Canada, you dumb motherfucka, what is you talking about, fool?
Listen, ayo, I ain't say you was from Canada, my man Bishop from Canada
You remember this day
No, I don't
A'ight, let me go further
You don't even know me, motherfucker
Listen, no front
She bumps Solo, my n***a Bishop went on to win
And O got a 'oh well' and a seat in the audience
My n***a saved ya' life when he went and spoke to that chick 'bout you
But if it was up to me my n***a, n***a I was gon' beat the shit out you
N***a even seen me in the green room a couple minutes after
Say I'm lyin', n***a tapped me said "Yo yo' man audition?", I said "N***a does it matter?"
N***a bitched up, n***a went, I ain't get another word about the case
He walked, sat in the corner, and had that little kid pouty face
The most electrified? N***a I don't even respect ya' grind
Today marks me putting ya' dreams on hold for the second time
This is anarchy, you were dressing like Dahmer, was a fake out
I know you not for that life, you named ya' record label Safe House
This n***a don't want no drama, he's cinnamon swirl sweet
To feel comfortable, Ars told him this event was hosted by World Peace
I'm a tyrant, violate, there'll be a slew of shots flyin'
He's a parody who should be battlin' Supa Hot Fire
This n***a really think he got my number?
Sike! That's the wrong number!
Hold on, I'm not a rapper
Shit ain't even make no fucking sense
Real talk, since you on ya' last legs here, I'm loading a weapon
A gat aimin', I'm Matt Damon, I give O shins eleven
This fo' fo' spittin'll have this hobo missing
Put him on a highway to heaven, on a solo mission
Blaow! It's Team Homi, not Team Be-Merciful
Not Team Kill-Some-But-It-Take-It-Easy-on-Certain-Crews
It's simple, get in the ring in front of me and I'm merc'ing you
Preachers, sermon, black suit, and churchin' you
Dig a cozy hole deep inside the Earth for you
Pallbearers, caskets, tombstones, and dirt for you
So what's it gon' be homie? You 'bout it? Well we gon' see
There's six million ways to die
[Crowd finishes slogan: "N***a you chose me"]
Hold on, hold on, quick PSA, public service announcement
If you take all the battlers from all the regions of the world
Team 'em up, Midwest, top tier, midtier, even the girls
Midwest, West Coast, down South, get y'all squadron
And I bet top dollar y'all not fucking with Harlem
Word to mother
Team Homi