[Round 1: Geechi Gotti]
We got Geechi Gotti versus...n***a you'se a bitch!
And you know you in trouble
Whoever let you come out here, the must didn't love you
.38 to the face
Remember we gave Real Deal the chain? It's gon' be the second time I snub you
N***a slug you
Don't talk, or you goin' over the edge
Fans confused like, "Thought it wasn't no distractions on the roof. So how'd he get thrown off?"
The .4 spark
Bullets go through flesh and break bones
Two .40's, you get the ugly modеl; Grace Jones
Man I hate Jonеs, I should sock Chilla
Pistol whip him
Find out how that Glock feel
He thinkin' we cool, wanna kick it, I'd rather (k)not Chill
The Glock's steel
And it came with a drum clip
Shoot you and whoever you run wit'
Keep shootin' until the gun click
Paramedics wanna make sure this pussy good, they better come (cum) quick
Dumb bitch, you a fool to me
Knock him down, keep shootin' him 'til he's stankin'
The body odor (older); it hit puberty
You a fool to me
The tool wit' me
You know I don't play fair
It's plenty straps in the house if I stay there
So many .4's in the crib could run a daycare
N***a, take care
You walkin' to the Gang Land so where is you from?
N***a so what
Bucket under ya chin for what you throw up
Hol' up
The .50 blast, all head shots
Told my n***as, "All I want is the dome", like the pussy trash
Wit' yo' goofy ass
Back in the days I would've robbed you, really had you shook too
Man, I set this battle up, so in reality I still booked you
Look fool, you can get shot tonight, be a vegetable by the mornin'
I'm talkin' brain dead, not workin', it should file for unemployment
When I shoot? I enjoy it
I be smilin' blastin'
You should be used to this
You used to not gettin' no crown reaction
On God I'm spazzin'
He gon' die when the steel blast
Bad teacher how I hit him wit' an F and he still passed
This n***a Chill trash, and he been a hater
I'll air this shit out like a ventilator
It was a casket, 'til y'all seen Chill in a box; NASA refrigerator
I been told y'all, I didn't have to read no book to know how great gats be (Great Gatsby), I'm just realer than y'all
Soon as I pull it, surprise (Pulitzer Prize)
Chances are your Empire Falls
Just like I said n***a, I just found out ski masks were for fuckin' skiing and I wasn't lyin'
But didn't matter cause if I wore one, either way I was gon' be slidin'
And when it's real y'all can tell
You can see it in they eyes, yo' turn, see if you can make n***as believe them lies
N***a time
[Round 1: Chilla Jones]
N***a you'se a....man of many names
I can't pardon facts
Geechi Gotti, Bay Loc, well where's Marcus at?
Cause today, it's no clemency, Roger that
We one on one, let's get the flex poppin' like Kyla Pratt
I'ma body bag Bay, on the east we don't do(o) rags
The west started that wave
A brave Hawk can get ya face blew (blue)
But ya heart ain't that brave
The old Steve Harvey, he never wanted parts in that fade
So you cleanin' house wit' The Mafia? See how Gotti act Made?
Thinkin' he sick when he not with these hypochondriac ways
You and them is not the same pussy, this a copy cat phase
How you never got trained on the streets, in the Bay Area where them trolley tracks laid
I'm an insomniac, can't sleep on him, so one afternoon
I turned on Gotti vs. Ward and that match was doomed
Tried to psych Ward out by being Nutty
Then got put in a box like a padded room
Actin' goon like you strapped wit' arms then y'all straight jackin' (jacket)
Well take action
Off the Rum, I'm insane rappin', the gang clappin'
We shoot Bay then (Bathing) Ape zip up his whole hood, now who wanna die in the same fashion?
You clashin' with Harambe, we gettin' live outta nowhere
Whoever stand in front of my palm pay (Pompeii) the king like LeBron J
This star bucks (Starbucks), now I'm sizin' up Coffee, this a Grande
Before this would occur (Forest Whitaker), tryin' to get y'all to look at me the wrong way
Just know a bullet had the last name rising (Risen) like Andre
You wanna Grace Jones with your presence; Stronjay
The skill is (skillet's) fire; I was cookin' wit' Rum; flambé
Mad nights I ain't even wanna write, I had long days
But why go off the top like Jin, when I could bomb Bay (bombay)
Arms spray from the hospital where his mom's lay
I pulled the plug and threw ('Through) The Wire' like Kanye
She lived a 'Good Life'
But 'I'm Heartless', no 'Mercy' with this type thing
It's a hazard if I 'Drive Slow', whatchu think those 'Flashing Lights' mean?
I 'Heard 'Em Say' he got a supa dupa scope
Well then two words, "Snipe King"
Oh they're 'Stronger' I'm hittin' 'N***as In Paris' with 'Ultralight Beams'
'Monster' 'Power', make 'em 'Touch The Sky' like a flight scene
He's so 'Appalled' how I write clean
See with Twork, I did Chris Brown songs, that was a tight theme
But since you push yay' ('Ye) out West I figured that was the right scheme
I'm goin' 'H.A.M.' but let me flip that
I'm cocky with the rifle power
This shit'll click, and land Mark (landmark) in Paris like the Eiffel Tower
Stifle cowards
It ain't a plus if you cross me physically
Lift your spirit up for nothin', it was complimentary
Turn Gotti, Kennedy
He'll get the head shot, all in memory
Pistol whip him, y'all gon' have to give his jaw some dentistry
How I beat his ass, but kept the meter full
Tell Nitty that's a flawless victory
No subliminal, talk specifically
Leg shot, hit the calf and ate it (decaffeinated) if I didn't like Coffee energy
So call me enemy
Like ya fuckin' squad the truth
N***a there's nothin' y'all can do
You rep the Nuts so (Nutso) guess who's jumpin' off the roof?
One
[Round 2: Geechi Gotti]
We both started in the PG's then went main stage
I just did it in less time than what it took you
And it's crazy cause, you been here, but at this part of your career, I'm considered a look for you
And this is true
Your career was on the fuckin' shelf
We only acknowledge that you got a pen cause you ain't got nothin' else
No style, no stage presence, that delivery need plenty help
Can't write a hit record, so without battles you'd prolly kill yoself
N***a I should snuff you
Type of n***a that tell bitches you battle rap so they can fuck you
Weird shit
N***a, I'm ashamed to be peers wit'
And that's just facts
Why don't you tell these n***as how you lost the chain on purpose so you could come rap on Smack
You fuckin' goof ball
King Of The Dot was the perfect place for this white washed black n***a
Least you was the champ over there
You came over here to be an App n***a
That's why I wanna slap Chilla
Did exactly what a fame whore'll do
Turned your back on the league that was doing way more for you
Go 'head, win this battle, I'm still gonna be gettin' paid more than you
N***a you ain't a big name
Shit, you just a n***a that can rap good enough to make this match make sense
The checks I get from Smack pay rent
I'm eatin' like the mob
You barely gettin' by, that's why outside of battle rap you still got a job
And I ain't knockin' n***as with 9 to 5's cause that's where they grind at
But see I get paid enough where I don't gotta punch that clock, but never mind that
Whatever they gave you, I'm gettin' at least three times that
I'm confused
Y'all said he got such a great pen, how come he didn't use it to sign a better contract
N***a this is beyond rap
I'm talkin' life decisions
You a middle aged battle rapper who look like Michael Bivens
And I ain't kiddin'
This is real shit, you think you a headliner but a n***a from Boston should be able to sell ticks (Celtics)
But you a frail bitch
All in my face talkin' crazy, glad I don't fuck you up
You extra blessed
Homies right here gettin' extra stressed
Losin' they composure tryin' to understand how the Crip can control mines (minds) like Professor X
You ever been next to death?
I mean, on the field when a soldier dies?
Or locked for a kill, praying they Bond your name like GoldenEye
How do you compose those lies?
Like I mean, writing gun bars, knowing you never shot a gun
It be n***as like you that don't even got a gun
N***a I got a son, matter of fact I got two
And I pray they never grow up to be anything like you
A straight pretender, writing raps with a fake agenda
Claimin' he tough but the whole time, man's a bitch; Caitlyn Jenner
I really hate this n***a
I'm oh so serious
How do you write gun bars, knowin' you never shot a n***a?
Bro I'm curious
You don't think that's disrespectful to n***as like me that's writin' from they own experience?
Man fool's delerious
He thought, if he didn't rap about guns then his raps wouldn't get respected
He thought if he didn't write gun bars then his bars would get neglected
In the streets, if I didn't shoot with my n***as I couldn't kick it
I guess we is the same, we had to use them straps to get accepted
See this where shit get hectic
Because when they say you got a pen, I'm guessin' they right
Cause you gotta be an author with them stories you write
And they make believe, I know they false
I'm one of them n***as you can't make believe
That you'll actually shoot a n***a and shake the scene
Or stand over him while you make him scream
And go home with no emotions and go straight to sleep
See I don't think, that you will shoot a n***a unless your life was on the line or for your family
I'm pretty sure that's what you gon' do
But my n***a look, there's a difference between shootin' a n***a cause you have to and shootin' him cause you want to
Bitch and when it's real, you can tell, you can see it in they eyes
Go 'head and rap and make n***as believe them lies
N***a time
[Round 2: Chilla Jones]
N***a you'se a...full time gang member
He give a fuck where this guy from, you can't hide son
Cause you'll go from behind the trunk to inside one
.9 dump, I'm clappin' that
Your last performance? That was wack
Me and Danja kicked a round back and forth like hacky sacks
So how the fuck you gon' call me a "nerd" when you rap wit' Frak
I'll pop corns with a toy around the Nut like Cracker Jacks
Action packed
Who said I ain't a match for Geechi?
Soon as the bell ding (Belding) we take it to the Max wit' heat
Just see (Jesse) me clap the piece
At least a (Lisa) couple dum(b) dum(b)s in Bay side (Bayside) like Zack and Screech
See how I slayed (Slater) n***a
Tell me, how can dudes stop me? I'm Dr. Miami, giving every ratchet a new body
A new hottie, get a face shot
BOAW! Now let's see if ya boo cocky (bukkake)
Or I, take this .4 and (foreign) whip ya boo Gotti (Bugatti)
The King Pen, he front like he imperial too
I'm 'bout to flip with some assault, get an aerial view
Whoever say he in my tier I'ma sue (tiramisu)
You sweet as [?]
Y'all think the only one to tear him is Tsu?
That ain't true
N***a hold up
In the ring, you've been feeling yourself like Gold Dust
You made Jerry look like he glowed up
Sho' Nuff
If he can tie a mark out in a round I'm doin' donuts
I guess it's time I spoke up
Somebody gotta let him know
Wess taught you a lesson bro
Ward gave you extra smoke
See they criticized Twork cause they say he keeps his effort low
Now your ass caught (cot) fallin' off, don't be the next (necks) exposed
Weapon load, his death approachin'
Don't even tamper (Tampa) Bay
That old Tom will show you God when the Heavens open
Tampa Bay, Old Tom, God when (Godwin)- n***a the schemes is a prob'
Who else they sign? Gronkowski, n***a ya team gettin' Rob'bed
I'm on my job
I'm the type that'll skirt to ya house
Peek in ya window, catch ya chick tryin' to twerk on the couch
Sneak in her back, got her eatin' a sack with sperm in her mouth
I'll grab your .9 off the bookshelf and murder ya spouse
All cause you made a fake profile to diss me
Now she dead on his burner account
And B. Dot been earnin' his clout
Y'all think he's so cool
He can't beat me on no roof
Y'all know what Jones do
He bang Blood, but when he got to the hospital it was Code Blue
I hold tools and both of 'em tre's
Shouldn't have been in no ring with Dot, he pushed bro in the way
But if Bay stay at a safe distance it's cool
Cause I can hold him at bay
But if he do keep a safe distance I'ma hold him at Bay
Aye
That battle you had with Tech-9, since then you've been makin' big moves
And we all know what Tech-9 did
And I know Gotti would never stand here and act like that shit was cool
But Yung Ill posted a screenshot...is what I seen on that pic true?
A 16 year old, half naked girl...liked by Geechi Gotti, is this you?
I mean it had me pissed too
And the way you heart checked Suge, I kinda fucked wit' that
So for that Bhad Bhabie shit, yo' heart gon' get a double tap
But enough of that
I bet he wanna change pace
I bet son wanna switch agenda (a gender) like Dwayne Wade
This lame fake
Plus tell Mark's men (Marksmen) my aim's great
I'll grab a TEC-9 (Tech-9) and OD, him and Gotti will share the same fate
So a bullet proof ski mask the only way you gon' save face
Cause you was born a Mark and you gon' die a mark, for your namesake
Rap
[Round 3: Geechi Gotti]
The police killed another black man...I don't like that
I think it's time we fight back
I'm talkin' right back
Cause they think pullin' out guns and shootin' us is cool
But, that's only cause they see us doin' it too
But what we gon' do?
Forget about the guns and butta
We know they hate us, that's mo' reason we should love each other
This shit bigger than Crips and Bloods, we brothers
But if we gon' stand there and watch 'em kill us we goin' out like suckas
Them pussy cops can't touch us
N***a fuck they laws
We ain't even gotta resist and still gotta worry if they gun go off
Them n***as shoot first and ask last, with no hesitation
They don't get arrested, lose they job, they get a paid vacation
Ain't that a trip?
Well let's trip back
Gun sound, click clack
Treat they wig like the quarantine, push they shit back
N***a this is real rap, man I ain't goin' for no mo' searches
I don't give a fuck if I'm on the block with Glocks
Man I ain't shootin' at no mo' n***as, my only ops is cops
Man real shit, we built this city, this is our shit it's lit now
We made this muhfucka, we'll burn this shit down
N***a real talk, n***as know what it is
Man justice for black out and George Floyd
If they don't hear a n***a right now, they mean I ain't makin' enough noise
And real shit, yeah, I know what it is
We gotta take it back to where we started
And I know, makin' sure my circle is on point makes me a target
Them n***as talkin' about a motherfuckin' curfew, man what the fuss about?
I got a bunch of jack boys (Jakkboy) outside ready to bust 'em out
N***as know what I'm talkin' about
N***a this is real shit
I couldn't write a third round if I didn't talk about them pigs and how we ready to kill shit
Y'all n***as can save that battle rap and that bitch ass chatter
Geechi Gotti came here to say Black Lives Matter
Let him rap
Mafia n***a
[Round 3: Chilla Jones]
N***a you'se a...motherfuckin' genius
You came into this game with a plan
And after you versus Saynt, you had your name in demand
I thought your skill set was "ehh", but your conviction made you the man
I said, "Man. As soon as Mark get ability (marketability) he could be the face of a brand."
And now you two time Champion Of The Year
I seen the congrats you got, the ten stacks on top
The cake, the plaques the plot, man that's a lot
And this year you're ten battles in, tryin' to pad ya stock
It must be nice goin' from league to league and not havin' your battles blocked
Two time Champion Of The Year...but we can't act like that's a shock
When other rappers get penalized by certain leagues for having matches locked
See league owners playin' traffic cop
Oh, this how the game's played?
You've been on every fuckin' card...from the small room to the main stage
N***a you even did a baby shower
We don't need to see you ever eight days
So y'all can stop tryin' to book Mark (bookmark), I hope we on the same page
And I heard Bay gave his hood ten racks
Psych, he had to let them chips go urgently
And I can explain the shit so perfectly
See he makes money off this gang member image, so as far as business he don't get no courtesy
And it's all for the internet money
So anybody that ever Cripped owe currency (cryptocurrency)
Now emergency, you Ready To Die? I brought a 'Big Poppa'
Sick chopper
Full of bald heads, they wig rockers
Stick to a skull, like a witch doctor
With one goal, body Mark out of nowhere, it's a stigmata
This nada
But ya third rounds, n***as be in love wit' that
I mean you got the toughest raps
But that's the problem Mr. Marcus, you always fuckin' cap
What's up wit' that?
Let me find out this real talk is really dumb lies
I mean your entourage be gassin' and it seems like a fun time
Maybe that's why they call you "Bay"
Cause you claim the C (sea) but your bars only land on one side
Son tried to make an album, to me it was below par
So I'm E racing (erasing) your little tracks, but that's for go-karts
I go hard
You disagree? Well then (welding) the chrome spark
I bet ya whole family birds (Byrd's) like the Ozarks
Don't start, tryin' to pull me in
Or I'ma play Boosie and get live with pussy's then
Gutta side, the hoodie I slide the fully in
Type to punk him with TEC's (texts) like I'm cyber bullying
So look me in my eyes, I'm a different one
Grip a gun
Long clip the extended one
Tell your clique to run
Or you gon' cry when yo' teammates die
See I could've brought a .40 and a fifth for son
But there's a better way to turn him alcoholic
Make his morning start with Coffee and end wit' Rum
Son, whatchu know about overachieving?
Being a go getter
Being so obsessed with perfect games you get depressed over the no hitters
Whatchu know about penning other n***as flows for mo' figures
Watchin' the URL classic, knowin' you ghost wrote for both n***as
This why I smoke n***as
Cause I hardly ever rest
They said, "You back on URL", I said, "My bars ain't never left."
Boy I'm the best, don't second guess
And that's why you losin' now
Against Mr. Jump To Top Tier From The Proving Grounds"
Rooftop