[Round 1: Madness]
For those that don’t really know me, Tony’s the name
I been here since the beginning
When we coined this place the O-Zone, holding the flame
Shit I just turned thirty three
And for me I feel like I’m getting too old for this game
It’s like age... and rap...
Wait, motherfucker ain’t you like forty and change?
Shit, bro, you like Head I.C.E age
Or the Ice Age
Your fucking kids? ...My age
But acting like you tough when I coulda just handled Quantum Physics
And you're Puerto Rican, so I know your blood type is Honda Civic
Your broad all on my didick until it explode like a bomb is in it
If it's beef I put my fist all through this pussy like an obstetrician
But he type nice sometimes
So if you wanted to doubt him, yo you couldn't
But it's no Secret, PH is pretty balanced, for a woman
But I'm connected everywhere I go like an unlimited data plan
You're a zero, so you can scream 'til
You're blue in the face like Megaman
Or I come strapped with that Machete like Trejo, Dan
And put that blade through your fucking fade like a Raiders fan
In jail?
You-PC, that bar cold (barcode), get checked out when the laser scan
With that pipe spitting fire, like I played a jazz flute in Anchorman
[Round 1: PH]
Just to set it off, in this battle shit, I'm an analyst
Bars crafted with the same Dizaster-ous
Patterns that conquered Canibus
No for forty pages, but for damn near forty years
I been the man 'n shit
So too bad if you mad
For what I'm about to do to this Madness kid
Bow to your sensei
From 20 paces, I put your light out like a candlewick
I saw your girl's body
She's what I call a magic trick
She's about my bars and balls — that's a abacus
I don't push a Acura Legend
But they say I'm a Legend, and that's Ac-urate
You're an MC that part times as a comedian just for battling
Who takes more back shots than slave sadomasochists do from master's whip
Man up Madness, before I massacre who you mashing with
That goes for Joe Cutter, Dirtbag Dan, and yeah
Frank Stacks is a bitch
Your Cali crew will pull a switcheroo and get rid 'a you
It's Common Sense
Your Westside Connection will see the Bitch In Yoo
I'm not one of you jokey ass rappers. I hope you ain't mistook me
You think you a Battle Cat, well if that's the fact
Well I'm He-Man
Cause I'm used to riding on you big pussies
He thought I was gonna creep solo, in a Jeep dolo
But I came with three cholos
One look like Madd Illz, the other two
Look like Jonny Storm and Jee Polo
They gon' catch Tone on the corner, like an off the hook payphone
Break bones on bums, you know, out of place, holmes
I got a crazy ratchet, and when I model her
Shit'll get ugly like Grace Jones
[Round 2: Madness]
You owe me a hundred dollars
Cause I bet Frank Stacks you wouldn't choke against PoRichard
And you such a dyke homo
Every time you play ro-sham-bo, you only throw scissors
Yo, welcome to Orlando you giant Puerto Rican Easter egg
Shit compared to you, Tone is fly, my dick's Cobra Ky
Why? Cause it sweep the leg
I should let a chainsaw rape your face
Like a scene from the Evil Dead
Decapitated so everyone in I-4 can see your head
Hanging where there used to be the sign for Merita bread
(What up my people??)
See everybody here know me, Tony G
Up a couple drinks, I'm like the O-Zone Ol' D.B
And if this faggot got a issue I'ma straighten him out like I got OCD
You old as shit
Probably making muffins or a baker's dozen
But you ain't fucking with my bread
This old man probably all... out of breath...
From the thoughts running through his head
Chilling at his mom's rest
Talking to kids about battling's infinite conquests
But always stops to yell, "Get off my lawn!"
But he still lives in the projects
You graduated with Tito Puente
And got your yearbook signed by Don Francisco
Plus you were watching Sabado Gigante...
When it was Sabado Chiquito
I pull the small heart out of this Decep' like the All-Spark
How are you unique
When you look like every fucking Puerto Rican at BVL Wal-Mart?
But I grew up around Boricuas and I love em to death
So just play along, y'all, it's all part of the gag
Acting like you hard
Son your crew got one less star than your flag
PH - Round 2
He gets his material from 1980s comedy movies
Way to be original
So he gets Big, this Naked Gun'll have you Trading Places
I'm not kidding you
Torso in the basement
Neck and face in the living room
You'll catch 9 irons out that Caddy Shack
If you go for Easy Money, I'm killing you
He moved to Cali, and left his partner in rhyme in Florida
That was Critical
Your bars vers' High Collide was cheap vodka
That's when you hit your Pinnacle
I'll front like I'm giving you dap and start shivving you
Cut puzzle pieces out your face like Mystikal
Album cover for Unpredictable
Damn, I'm nice, I put words and phrases into a centrifuge
You rap jokes, buddy, my bars 'll put an end to you;
Stomp you in the ground till smoke and sparks travel into you
And there's a crater under your body
Like a Terminator was sent for you
It's about to Rain in Southern California;
I'll kill all your phony homies
And split you in three, so all we'll see is Tony, Toni, Toné
I'm a pimp though, got your limp hoe by her piss hole
Have her shouting out more than a Carter Deems intro
The South had a movement
You could've been on
But you traded yourself to the West and your buzz got piss warm
Then he Lurch back, hoping they add I'm (Addam)
To the Family, but the love, Cousin, it's gone
Your last name is Gomez so it's only right you kiss arms

[Round 3: Madness]
See I can't even go hard on PH
Cause that's my homie and he type cool
I got all my references from 80's movies
They came out when you were in high school
If I rapped like you, I would rape myself
It's like your style is fractured pieces of something
It's a decent assumption that we're not impressed with raps that
Sound like fucking Ikea instructions
(But he's "Big", uh, I could do that. Yo.)
I got that Foot-long on him, so don't try to be a hero (gyro)
I go for broke like I'm Po', Boy, a Grinder with this Torpedo
Your girl? I'ma Bomb'er, cause I'm a Engineer with the Zingers
As soon as we Meet-balls, and I had my salami
All in that chicken fingers
I mean for real
What the fuck, I gotta put it in subtitles?
Foot-long, gyro, po' boy...
Motherfucker I just killed you with Sub titles
But I ain't wanna do you like this
Cause he my boy, but hey, he ain't got him a choice
Your parents regret having you... because they wanted a boy
In battle rap, he wave his hand cause he the ultimate dick sucker
You were gonna battle Getcha
But you look like fucking Getcha's big brother
(And I stole that line from him outside motherfucker!)

[Round 3: Pumpkinhead]
What's popping Tone?
You not spitting proper, Tone
You're a Colombian who thinks he's Italian
You wouldn't be a Soprano, even if you sang opera, Tone
You put three albums out, only one person would cop it, Tone
Stop it, Tone, I'm a monster that'll pop ya
And tan ya til you're coppertone
You're not fire, bitch, you're a snitch
A copper, Tone
The real Tone from Florida is Deff
Your voice? Ehh
You're not even the proper Tone
Why you even here though? KOTD stop calling you bro?
Tried rapping serious for once and
The math you added actually got you subtracted by Uno?
You self-hating race traitor
Leading a double life like there's two Tones
Brown on the outside, white on the inside... n***a you two-tone
He done shit out here
To make y'all laugh for cash like Silent Library
But he moved to Cali, cause that's where he can
Come out the closet and keep all his silent lies buried
I pray to the lord, cause you a non-believer
So I'm like "Yo, I know he wrong
He traded a chance Peek-at-chu just to Poke-a-mon."
What'chall want, a champion that'll use the belt to bring order
Or a joker that'd use it as a gag gift that shoots water?
You want the resurrection led by a man
That never turned his cheek on a brand
Or a n***a that at the first signs of adversity
He travels to another land and turns his back on the fans?