[Round 1: Gunpowder Patt]
Patt talk tough!
They be sleepin’ on me
Yo, that’s fucked up
But we on Caffeine now - wake the fuck up
I know why these n***as ain’t feelin’ P
‘Cause I ain’t one of these...rappity, do flippy schemes
N***a, please
I was born to spit gun bars: it’s in my jeans (genes)
You was like family, my brother
But right now things is iffy
Shit, we came in WeGoHard together, right? Puttin’ in pain for City
I’m glad you gettin’ this look, though, bro
You should be thankful wit’ me
But you my little brother...I’m only here ‘cause I had to take you wit’ me!
Let’s play a game of “Swear to God”, Ru
Swear to God, Ru...that throughout your career, Patt ain’t the main n***a that guide Ru
Oh, you gon’ stay quiet, Ru?
All them battles behind Ru?
You gon’ sit there and lie, Ru?
You wasn’t even gang and I still gave you a piece of the pie-
Ru...don’t make me tell ‘em
You know what I know
Fuck it...y’all thought his name was Ru Bando? It’s Ru BAHN-DO!
Clown n***a
Big man, I back down n***as
Nah, step back off the heat, the round hit him
Who down wit’ him?
You down wit’ him? You down wit’ him
Nah, but it’s one in the head: Down Syndrome
This Patt shit!
I’ll Patt you in a coma!
Patt-ness! I can Patt at any moment!
I’m a mu’fuckin’ beast, bro
I really goes Beast Mode
Left, right, down, back, right, up: cheat code!
You know what’s up
I’m rollin’ wit’ them bad bitches, all them cold as fuck
But they hard to scoop like that last Cocoa Puff
[Round 1: Ru Bando]
...Y’all ready?
I said...n***a, shit real
You a comedian
You act funny wit’ my ki’ (Key)? You gon’ get your shit peeled (Peele)
Dots diggin’ in his torso after grippin’ the steel
They’ll come up wit’ a round, like the n***a that invented the wheel
We on live? Well, y’all get to see this n***a die
Yeah, he suited, but the grip to his throat: he gotta fix his tie
This trip to the hospital ain’t gon’ better your health
Boy..I pull the lead from the belt…
BLAOW! Now Gunpowder all in his mind: he got ahead of hisself!
He Home Team
Well, I’m CNC
Drop a addy and we could meet
It’s like you and three other n***as
When I see your team, I’m droppin’ tops
Watch four heads (foreheads) hit the floor like a DDT
You will disintegrate when I squeeze the heat
I’ll turn Powder to angel dust: PCP
I’m so cool, but at any point, I go heathen
Next time he say, “Ask me why...”, (*swoo*) for no reason
It’s choke season, so a n***a like me? Do not try
Didn’t you battle Your Honor? Fuck it - Glock .9!
He try to slide by? I take a pause, then a shot fly
Bullet hit Patt on the ass: D-D-D-Dot Mobb!
Bron-Bron, trips to the Finals: you takin’ eight straight
Air out a bullet on Patt: Deflategate
Do you copy?
You’ll lose a close friend: Illuminati
I’ll let the Glock squeeze
Nah, we from New York - you’ll get the ox, B
Tell Patt he (patty) gettin’ cut up: that’s a chop cheese
Bring your guys, please - they all gettin’ fired!
Petey Pablo: somethin’ Raise Up from the shirt, and spin over your head in North Carolina!
Now it’s nothin’ that your moms could do
I’ll astonish you
His execution? Electrocution, I’mma shock this dude
I catch Patt slippin’, pop the tool
See Patt and let the (patent leather) strap kick: Prada shoes
But damn, son, I’d rather let somethin’ ugly kick: AND1s
Battle rap style: n***a died by the handgun
I’m tellin’ you now, when we go to New York, your son gettin’ shot wit’ the heat
I’m Russell Wilson, ‘cause in the Future, another n***a gon’ be poppin’ your seed
That’s Round 1 - you gotta rap, Powder
You thought Smack set you up wit’ a Bando? They trapped Powder
Rap, n***a
[Round 2: Gunpowder Patt]
Jesus fucking Christ...
Bro, if I hear another name flip, I’m gonna fuckin’ die
Name flip, name flip, n-
Bro, that’s all that you write?
You doin’ all this flippin’ Powder, but ain’t never sold coke in your life
I mean, Ru my dawg, but Ru a fraud
Come on...who really believe he lettin’ Rugers off?
Look at him!
Bro, you look like if you held a gun, n***a, you would fall
No, not to the grou- n***a, through the floor
How you gon’ be true to yourself? You ain’t true to your bars!
Ru got it backwards: you don’t even know who you are! (U-R)
I mean, what’s good wit’ y’all?
Act like I’m only jokin’ - I’m good wit’ bars!
Bando, you shoulda known this the type of shit you would endure (wooden door)
Wait, speaking of Bando, I’ll show you what the gang like
Pull up to Bando bando, see what the bank like
Surround his house wit’ nothin’ but shooters, tell ‘em to hang tight
We all got on ski masks, but it’s Coronavirus, so we in plain sight
See, this the plan: I’mma kick in the door, that’s where Budd’ sittin’
Moneyy, you gon’ go around the back, bring Doug wit’ ya
We gon’ do this shit together, on the count of one, n***a
...One, n-
Front door, kick it down
Everybody, hit the ground
Don’t nobody say a word, or the room’ll get a round
‘Cause you know, when you say the word, the rumor get aro-
Demon slayer, I bang this drum, the room’ll spin around
You say somethin’ slick, bro? I’m runnin’ in your shit, yo
After that, runnin’ (run in) your family: the big nose
TEC dumpin’, keep shootin’ ‘til ain’t nothin’ left of him
Pinkeye: keep lookin’ at me, you gon’ catch somethin’
[Round 2: Ru Bando]
...Ain’t nothin’ ‘bout him!
After this, they gon’ say I’m fuckin’ wildin’
‘Cause how I roast you gon’ be So Much Fun like Thugga album
Y’all hear that? His stomach growlin’
Peep his outfit, I saw it all before
He wore that shit two days ago
We be in the same ‘hood, I peeped him walkin’ from the store
But that’s not even the part that was fuckin’ absurd
Thought I was trippin’...the n***a was skippin’ like it wasn’t his turn!
You fag bag, you know what got me mad, Patt?
Yeah, you right, you the big Blood
Nah, you just fat, scrap!
N***a got a fridge full of salt pork and fat back
Freezer full of pizza and mad snacks
It’s ridiculous…
I been in his crib - this n***a got a closet full of Entemann’s
I’ll light up this fat n***a face like chitlins
Here go the realer shit...this is a fact
He played football, but he never finished his laps
That’s why he’s switchin’ his mood, and he’s starin’ at me like, “This shit isn’t true.”
Yeah, he ain’t finished his laps, but he damn sure finished his food!
You don’t do Uber Pool ‘cause you scared you gon’ get into a car wit’ a n***a you got beef wit’?
But you do Uber Eats ‘cause it’s gon’ get delivered by a n***a you don’t gotta eat wit’
I’m on his porch like, “Where my money?”
He try to run? That n***a funny
Spine shot, put his stomach on the gate: the n***a hungry
Dummy, you beatin’ me is a wild statement!
I gun-butt him, pat Powder on the face: foundation
The pain gon’ be great
College dropout: this where you made your (major) mistake
When I gun-butt him, I get to rearrangin’ his face!
There’ll be a whole new you like he changin’ his ways
But what the fuck did you say?
“I’m strapped in! I’ll Patt you in a coma!
Patt-ness! I could Patt at any moment!”
NO, bitch! You jacked that n***a slogan!
Stole it! You be rappin’ like you own it!
After this, as far as wins, you gon’ have to change your story
I’m winnin’ clear, but Skates edged you: Blades of Glory!
You not that nice, n***a
You wanna fight, n***a?
Powder...the only Pat(t) allowed on SMACK is that white n***a!
That’s Round 2 - you gotta rap, Powder
You thought Smack set you up wit’ a Bando? They trapped Powder

[Round 3: Gunpowder Patt]
That was cool
I said, yo...you my bro, and me and you, we be mackin’
So you already know what the fuck’s ‘bout to happen
This 3rd round, where I do that Gunpowder Patt shit
‘Cause this style original: it’s patent!
When I’m in yo’ crib...I be lookin’ at your bitch
I mean, she caught me lookin’, but she ain’t sayin’ shit
She know why
Before you moved to my ‘hood? Oh my
I mean, you cuffed her and really loved her
I ain’t wanna give you the whole nine
But for 25K? These text messages won’t lie
Swear to- ooh, you lucky my phone died
Me and yo’ bitch hit it off
Took her shopping, she was in the mall
I told her, “Look, I ain’t no trick...but pick a card, any card
I got Masters, VISAs...”
Then we took a cruise far
She said, “Patt, what you like about Cancun?”
...The -cun (coon) part
I know she missed it
Slick shit, that smooth talk
My marble floors, that moonwa-
You average fuck...you mad or what?
That’s yo’ girl
She said he like a Sims character - ask me why
...Why?
‘Cause Ru be (ruby) over his head: he in his own world
What, y’all though ‘cause I rap slow, 2-minute rounds was gon’ be damagin’?
Psshht, I can handle it
So what if they took time (Tom) from Patt? I ain’t the one to tamper (Tampa) wit’
Death Row, I send them riders on you
Jai 400’ll fire on you
Fuck Suge pocket tap - tryna see if you got a wire on you
Time it on you
You better do some good rhyming

[Round 3: Ru Bando]
Aight..I’m makin’ it quick
I been lookin’ for this clown n***a...so let’s get to It
He’ll experience paradise ‘cause Heaven is where I’m sendin’ him (synonym)
At the funeral, see his mother all in his face like resemblance
If a judge react to his round? Split his shit
Once I’m feelin’ (filling) he got the crown, Ru can now (root canal) dent his (dentist) shit!
Y’all n***as got me upset
So off GP, I’m poppin’ the lead
His ceiling caved in: Ru (roof) finna drop on his head
.45, .9, Glock spit
Point them (thumb), together: chopsticks!
He thought that I was scared of him? So make a move
Letter to you: I’m darin’ (Dear-ing) him
Caffeine: take a SMACK n***a, then I’m airin’ him
Stare at him, shoot your face off (faceoff): Champion!
Why y’all pamper him!? I’m comin’ for what’s mine!
And we takin’ ours
You seen’t how I cleaned up Kid: you a baby, Powder!
So I’ll give him the mill’
Sit him down, then I hit him with steel
Boy, when this round pop, Powder blew (blue) all over the room: it’s a gender reveal!
Now teach me somethin’
Try and play Professor X, I’ll let the .9 spread
Now you Patt-rick Stewart: your mind red (read)
This guy’s dead, n***a, and I’m stoppin’ your plans
I get a gun? Best believe it’s not gonna jam
I’ll make ya ceiling leak, then I’m droppin’ the can
Put my nickel (monocle) on his eye: Monopoly Man!
It ain’t a butcher’s mistake when I get the chop’ in (choppin’) my hand
Aim it at his top and then BLAM!
There’ll be no line like he shop in advance!
OK!?
I’m strapped wit’ the silver, chrome .8s
Tryin’ my best not to crack his apple: phone case
You thought you was gon’ beat me and go home safe?
This belief (disbelief) is why I’mma drop his face: “No way!”
.40 up soon as he opened the door, he home late
That’s Round 3 - you gotta rap, Powder
You thought Smack set you up wit’ a Bando? They trapped Powder