[Round 1: Math Hoffa]
You make the worst life decisions
I've been wantin' to do this for so long
You a virus in battle rap and I can't let you go on
You steal bars, you stole Jones, you stole Hollow, you stole Con's
You stole Dose's, even Soul Khan, the list goes on!
But that's five cats, I'ma stop at 5 cats, n***a hold on
You took five cats and put them together
Well that's actually kinda clever, 'cause now I understand why your punches are all bites: you think you're Voltron
Now there's two things about you that make you the worst kind of lame
So I'll combine the two and make a multiple choice on why you stole Hollow's name
Is it (A) You was suckin' dick and tryna get a buzz?
(B) You was suckin' dick and tryna get a buzz?
(C) You was suckin' dick and tryna get a buzz?
But we know the answer is (D) All of the above
Now, you steal every fuckin' battle
So don't tell me to switch the topic
On behalf of all the battle rappers here, you need to stop it
When we rhymin' and you come around you know what we do?
"Ayo it's John John, watch it, watch it, watch it, watch it!"
When you leave we slam the door, lock it
And check if you picked our pockets
Look you doin' this for profit
If you gonna take a bar from a n***a at least buy him a drink after you swap it
But this gonna be your first battle not stealin', you need a dropkick
'Cause if you ever had some hot shit
Then you wouldn't have--
Wait a minute, you about to try flip some of my shit!
Well I'ma do it before you can do it, n***a watch this
"They say the eyes are the window to each soul
In your eyes I can see you climbin' through windows to steal flows
Bars! I hit the side of your grill, you will doze
Wake swole with your eyes sealed closed from steel toes
I'm a veteran with a thirst for beheadin' these lil' hoes
My [?] among the legends, my measurements still grows
John John can't see me in the ring: I'm Bilbo
Baggin' these motherfuckers before they can feel cold
It's Hoffa! Everybody know that Hoffa's the realest
Everybody know I solidify my spot with guerrillas
But you a faggot rapper, battlin' for the spot where the deal is
You solidify your spot in the village, suckin' cock with them n***as!
[?] DNA's bars I see, mi bars son ahí
So try not to fall asleep, you know his bars tight whack
And I'll be here second round to bring the bars right back
Hoffa!
[Round 1: John John Da Don]
You ready for some real bars now?
Math Hoffa, NYB—that's what you rep right?
Me? I ain't nothin' but pussy, that's what you said right?
And you pop off at any sign of disrespect right?
Fuck you! Suck my dick! Pussy let's fight!
Bully who? Do I look like Dose to you?
Speakin' of Dose and you, right now you owe it to
Fuck how you swung when he got too close to you
'Cause I'm a real n***a, you just did what you was 'sposed to do
I ain't Dose, try me if you want
If you want to play ground you can swing if you want
Get a halo and a fresh pair of wings if you want
A one-way ticket to see B.I.G. if you want
All I see is a punk, he get live on the stage
I'll yoke him with the burner like I'm fryin' the egg
Then put the clippers to his temple like I'm linin' his fade
Grab the stock and cap his ass like he's tryna get waved
I'll slide the gauge in his mouth, down this n***a's throat
To show Goodz I don't need Earl to make a n***a choke
Y'all gon think he's signed to Eminem when I grip the toast
Watch him get shady after Math get in the scope
Math, you know that Yonkers bitch that you been in them flicks with
I ain't gonna say no names for three reasons
(1) That's some snitch shit
(2) She happens to be somebody I'm still friends with; and
(3) When I get back to Yonkers I want my dick licked
The bitch blew my whole gang so we call her Tookie
She don't let me port no more then I'ma off her coofy
Dumb aim so I got a gun game like Call of Duty
These clips got my Smith & Wes cravin' to shoot the horror movie
These clips, Wes Craven, horror movie?
But these clips don't need no subtitles, it ain't a foreign movie
These clips will put this dick in a box like a porno movie
These clips will be releasin' on demand like an ordered movie!
No more battles for you, this was your last cheque
Now it's time to see you in hell so take your last breath
Thinkin' I'm an all of the above, well that's a bad guess
'Cause I don't need a multiple choice to pass a math test
Bars!
[Round 2: Math Hoffa]
He said some shit about Dose and he ain't Dose, dead it
You see why these n***as get no credit?
N***a said he "ain't Dose, try me"
But turned his hat backwards when he said it
That shit corny! But you a thief
You even stole Goodz' chipmunk cheeks!
It's body time, n***a, this gon' read
This my 6th battle this year, guess you can say I made my mind up
School of Hoffa, n***a sign up and step your fuckin' grind up
I got these battle rappers like oh damn, Math movin' like Conan
Four heads in one month? Jesus! in a row man?
This battle gon' be the same: Jesus and the Romans
No bitches in my crew, we Al Bundy and NO MA'AM
I'll clap you with both hands, chop you in the neck
Backfist make you backflip then rock you in the chest
I'll dose you, but I don't gotta drop you for respect
I'll catch you on your block late night, pop you in the neck!
You dead, brother, now R.I.P. to all the lost n***as
That watched gangster flicks and imitated all of the mob figures
But in the mob you gotta get permission to off n***as
And this Don is not lucky, so we can't even cross fingers
Bars! But John think he the Baptist and Hollow's the God
You wear his name, spread his word, he's your idol, your lord
But Hollow don't fuck with you unless you bible in blogs
Or Jew dustheads and can't tell that this disciple's a fraud
We don't like you, John! You need to leave this scene
I'm nice, I don't even need to be this mean
For murder I come loaded with three clips, beams
That'll shine, I spot your tee I'ma leave shit clean
That's 48 shots that'll make me see ribs, spleens
They asked why son died, I told 'em I gave John 3:16
You don't got bars like that, man!
Yo, your family will never stop mournin' like Regis
It seems ever since I battled Verb, what's up Smack?
Why these lame n***as is all I see?
I'ma start blockin' you and Beas on my call ID
I mean y'all coulda gave me Surf, he got bars like me
But every time I face a Crip you see a R.I.P.
You don't got bars like that!
N***a said I don't got bars, fuck outta here, them n***as lyin'
Sometime I spit punches so deep y'all don't get the rhyme
But if I tell a motherfuckin' joke you gon' get it fine
Either way I kill a crowd like Boston when I finish lines
This n***a's dyin', oh
[Round 2: John John Da Don]
You got a lot of jokes, but where the fuck is your bars Math?
Joke all you want, that's exactly what you are Math
You ain't no "G" as in gangsta with your fraud ass
It's more like G-ometry 'cause you ain't hard Math
And I know my geometry really well
Like he can have a-cute round written, but he still will fail
'Cause if I fail his 90 degrees then I'ma give him Hell
'Cause even if he takes the right angles it's still an L
Bars! Fuck how you grew up in Brooklyn, bogart on blocks
How you use to rob n***as or what you used to charge for rocks
You better switch it up before the rest of your stock market drop
'Cause all they really care about is if you came with bars or not
So no old stories about how you used to chop work
You ex-security guard, that's what he mean he used to cop work
We line up like the tip agency if you got work
And the second I send my men it's ours, that's how we clockwork
Seconds, minutes, hours—you get your work clocked
I might have to rewind this shit
If you don't know what time it is off the first watch
Bars! Bars! I burst shots to get him laid in a coffin
You don't need an alarm clock to get a wake in the mournin'
I'm A1 when it's beef X steak I'm on it
You'll get killed in this bitch like baby abortions
I'm a student in this game, I know my math of course
So let this be the classroom where Math gets taught
I'll add bullets, divide his head to subtract his thoughts
But I don't need a blackboard to put Math in chalk
I can get you stabbed with hawks or pop off 4's
This gauge MJ: got a chopped-off nose
And blow his shirts off back and his socks off toes
Like it's from Canal Street the way it knock-off clothes
A million views in, I'm a motherfuckin' vet now
These old n***as suck, I'm the motherfuckin' best now
Feelin' disrespected? There's no need to get upset now
'Cause I'm about to make this bully look pussy in my next round

[Round 3: Math Hoffa]
You said you spit gun lines
Because your fans prefer them types of punch lines
I spit gun lines 'cause I really play with the heat
No LeBron references. I was raised in the street
You wasn't, so if you got gun lines don't say 'em to me
'Cause you pussy, you wear glasses and your last name is McGee
MCGEE!
You know how you sound to a n***a that seen shorty shot and slain?
Everything go downhill 'cause in real life that 40 Glock is not a game
When Joe said he had to tell his mother that her son died, I lived that
Back when them bitch n***as killed Black and that's a real fact
When I battle you n***as, inside I know I make you feel whack
'Cause my metaphors be hittin' harder than they real raps
And my real raps'll leave your whole character peeled back
If you trill and you really that character, steal that
But you want us to believe that you out in the world thuggin'
But when Bow Wow had a problem with Cat Stacks
He called you n***as up like you was girl cousins
Y'all n***as beat up btiches? Yo son, that ain't a trill route
You got a brother called Bart, right? Tell that n***a to chill out
We should call you Lisa 'cause you don't own nothin' you spill out
But since you wear glasses and follow Bart, I'll pull the steel out
Leave your wig blew, now your crew can call you Milhouse!
Y'ALL N***AS BEAT UP BITCHES?!
Y'all some big bitch-ass n***as!
When Young [?] was fuckin' up your brother car
Why you not jump out and get that n***a?
I heard [?] got hit up though, but you wasn't with that n***a
'Cause you bitch-ass n***as ain't the get back n***as
You the "get back" n***as!
But while your bitch ass is out there slammin' hoes
I'ma need you to be clever
Bow Wow ain't gonna fuck with you for long, your team's severed
I mean you lost to K Shine, you lost to 106, he's seen better
Plus we know Bow Wow ain't gonna stick around if he see errors
Yo, fuck this n***a man, yo Smack, you wrong
Beasley, sometimes I wanna close my hand and smack you wrong
But I'd never do that 'cause y'all my n***as
But I didn't wanna battle John
But now I gotta thank you for him
And I'll tell you why I had a change of plans
See honestly food for thought, I thought you was a plate of spam
But the way you be promotin' other n***as bars that's amazin' man
You see eatin' John John is really healthy, 'cause he like Raisin Brans
DNA's bars I see, mi bars son ahí
Hoffa!

[Round 3: John John]
Definition of a bully: somebody who uses power to harm someone that's weaker
Now, would you mind if I be the public speaker?
On some real stuff he runnin' round swingin' on lil' n***as so he feel tough
But please don't believe his fake ass 'cause he real butt
Dose was too small and you know that, n***a
You ain't tough and Suge just exposed that, n***a
When he hit your hat and called you a ho-ass n***a
But you a bully, Math, why you ain't dose that n***a?
All you said was "what you call me?"
Pussy, he called you a ho-ass n***a
And what you do? Stand there like a ho-ass n***a
If that was me, then I woulda seen me fold that n***a
And give Shotgun shells to reload that n***a
You tried to bully Arsonal, it ain't look like it work
You tried to bully Pat Stay, it ain't look like it work
You tried to bully Hitman, it ain't look like it work
Now even though you snuffed Dose it ain't look like it hurt
For what it's worth, bet the bread that they gave you
You get too close I'll give you the toast and the cake too
That biscuit gon' cook and leave his muffin on the table
A headshot'll turn his butter roll to a bagel
With the burner he gon' see these (what's that?) rounds comin' out
I'll raid worms at his apple (what's that?) rounds for a scalp
I can give his men toast (what's that?) rounds for his mouth
And everybody gets a shot (what's that?) rounds on the house
N***a, you ain't got bars like that
Stop rappin' 'bout guns, you ain't hard like that
Pay attention, I just said he ain't got bars like that
Now spell it out 'cause he ain't B with ARs like that
You came with jokes but I'm not playin' tonight
You wanna keep it all rap, bitch, I came for a fight
So please don't say the John if you ain't sayin' it twice
And if you don't add the Don you ain't sayin' it right
Goodnight