A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #


"Prez Mafia vs Ty Law"

[Round 1: Prez Mafia]
This is what the people wanted, Law
So real rap, it's either you or me
Your tall ass gonna need a Lux angle, or security
But spell it out, secure a T; why do Law wanna f*ck with me?
See it's more than rap
Don't give me what I want, I'm taking off a scrap
That's to bang heads
And then I cross arms, that's a spoiled brat; you onto that?
Well for b*tch-made n*ggas, I keep berettas c*cked
You'll hear a bow, wow
This nine-eight take Terrence spot, lord
We on BET n*gga
Are you gonna bet or not?
No Law, since we on BET, n*gga
Win, you betta not
A new age drum
And that sh*t'll send you back
It's like, no lil n*gga, you can't come
With more punchlines, than when the kool aid done
Look here, bum
You ain't a pimp
I'm mean, to be loved
I let it sing
Like Prince Hakeem
Computer Love
This one auto'll tune out this weak broad
Computer thug
I'll catch T, while's he on his keyboard
Wait, bring it back
Computer thug
Y'all ain't see board?
Look on ya phone, son
T by Y on the keyboard
You about to lose bad, only height is a debate
'til I ask you for a boost
Just to knife you in the face
I'll cold cut 'em
I go ham in New York
If you owe something
I'mma let it ring in Times Square, I'm Joe Buddens
Got a Tommy that I named Big Shirley
I'm cold fronting
And if Roscoe come to the door
You ain't a G
Nah, Martin playing Roscoe, clips stand about knee high
n*gga please
These are kill or be killed bars, for a hard win
For the green, I'll leave you dead on the lawn
Put up ya guard then, wait
Green, leave, dead on the lawn, put up ya--n*gga I'm fighting them
I'm from the X, man'll storm on ya block, you'll never see the light again
Just Ty suited up
Like yo, y'all n*ggas hiring?

[Round 2: Prez Mafia]
Now this round, all punches so prepare for this sh*t
Like bums standing by the fire how that barrell get lit
No, this ain't where I flip bars, I'm better than this chump
I wanna know what's with the head nod
Every time you punch
Let's get personal
I'mma keep it simple, brah
You kinda spaz out
But really, I'm scared for ya life, Ty
So don't lash out
My n*gga, I'm sayin', don't say I took a lame kissin' ass route
But when you punch, I think he 'bout to motherf*cking pass out
What's that about?
My n*gga, you ain't ready for a flow like this
Everytime you go like this, I go like th--
What you ain't catch it n*gga?
I said, you ain't ready for a flow like this
Everytime you go like this, I go-- I'm tryin' to catch the n*gga
If Real Steel had a movie, I swear it would be so hot
I could it now, Ty Law, the punchline robot
But enough of jokes, n*gga, because I know the ropes
And that's gym class
Like damn the weight
I'll give this can a shaking
He'll be slim fast
But, you Queen Latifah with bars
This sh*t's old
As you and I, T
Why you wanna play the chick role?
Oh, just know
They say against Hazey, I didn't murder sh*t?
But for Ty, I think it's time to call Murda again
JMurda: "What it diddy do
What you need another grandmomma?"
Nah I said the last one was Gucci, you the man, my guy
I need a devil dot com
But by the end of the night
JMurda: "What you talking about?"
Yo, even Murda ain't get this sh*t right
n*gga I said devil dot com
That mean by the end
Even if his block hot
We gon' leave a hell of a sight
I ain't got time to be playing with this joke
So I clicked on 'em
And then clicked on 'em
That's Big Sean, with a remote
Yo Smack, you know how I do
I'm gunnin' for a win
I go off and so on
You think you ready for this flip?
Well cool out
You and Andy had me dustin' off my fifth
You got left in that snow, dog, my strap husky as it gets
Just get murked when clips disperse
And you don't got performance, b*tch
So the sh*t gets worse

[Round 3: Prez Mafia]
My bro Red said Prez, who you got next?
I told 'em Ty Law
His reply: Easy body
For him you don't need these fans, just do you
'cause if you lose
Man, the crew, tuh, we be damned
Y'all might have to let him have it, my n*gga
I said nah
Don't touch the n*gga, bro
He said, nah, for this Tyson Chandler clone
I don't need these hands
Now watch red bow tie, like a Pee Wee fan
I ain't a vet, but I'm more than a threat
Tecs out
Say the wrong thing that semi auto correct
Because I keep a couple cyphers, 34s, that's Danny Myers
Plus I bring war to boy, that's what n*ggas at the gym, wait
Wrong movie, I said Jim Carey, lift weight, don't care who feel some kinda way, that's where the Grinch stay
Don't care who feel some kinda way, ain't that where the Grinch stay
You b*tch made
Run up on you, with a switch blade
And then switch blades
Ya head'll be red like Malcolm X in his pimp days
My mistake
I'm speeding with bars
I gotta get 'em
I slide by (bah)
Send ten to ya man, I'm Robin Williams
I had to go back to the hood, 'cause really n*ggas them Youtube views, they don't bring back nothin'
So on sight, I had the corner clicking, like the 'skip ad' button
No classic, n*gga
I'm really tryin' to end yo life, who asked--
Yo, you know you done f*cked up, right
Yo, [?]
Like yo, he bonkers
You and ya V, letting car tunes
Until I run up on ya
Bear arms like; ay, boo, boo
But it ain't Yogi partner
Ay, Booboo, like Yogi partner
Over the head lines, that's the reason why this dude sad
Wait, over the head lines, that's the middle of a doorag
Is you mad?
Yo, I ran into ya chick and that's my word
I took her to NY and parked her, like that n*gga from the Spurs
But wait
Too NY, that's Tony Parker, that n*gga from--
Yo, enough of explaining, y'all n*ggas ain't stupid, I'm top 10
And it's amazing how you made the wrong turn and got boxed in
Ty, I'mma dumb out
Clear the whole room like Cliff Huxtable telling his wife to get the f*ck out

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

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