[Round 1: Real Name Brandon]
When I first started battle rappin’
They said it was a science to it
To get it right, try angles (triangles)
In the long run you’ll get different hypotenuses
So I was in there on my Bruce Banner
Tryna figure out ways to conquer
Then URL offered me 25k
The green turned me into a different monster
I’m so much better than you, you can see the difference in posture
I’ll grip it and pop you, noodle on the ground
Shit look like a picnic wit’ pasta
I can make onе call to my Mexican patnas
For ten bands, they’ll all corrеr en tu casa
And Don Marino, that was my lingo primo
It’s mean bro, you don’t wanna collide wit’ me
I bring smoke, like BYOB
I got this one gun, lemme give you a light description
It got a scope on it, wit’ this little light that flicker
The ammo, M855’s, these 5.56’s
But they ain’t really armor piercin’
Pretty much this model for headshots only well you get the picture
You can’t rap wit’ me, or scrap wit’ me
I’m unorthodox, right hand in the front
Yeah I know I’m right-handed but it’s the stance for me
You gotta learn how to alternate or (alternator) it’s a battery
Swerv’, ain’t no swervin’ these rounds
I don’t care how you whip it, turn that hardtop to a convertible
This bitch removin’ the ceilin’
This mo’fucka got to barkin’, they said only two of ‘em hit him
Neck shot took dawg (dog) vocal cords, and the roof was missin’
I’m too consistent, and my movement different
Elusive n***a, I’m the type you should fear
I been light on my feet, like LA Gear
You 5’7”, I’ll kick you in the face from here
And you gon’ have to make modifications
Before you try it wit’ me
1911, it fire wit’ ease
It’s like marriage in April, I be alterin’ springs (alter in Spring)
I don’t give a fuck about your background
You think I’m worried ‘bout what you do? Please
I was in a Charger wit’ the 9, before anybody knew Drew Brees
I’ll up it on you, 12 gauge, William Larkin
I told him he ain’t wanna dance
But this bitch asked for it, like Sadie Hawkins
How did you end up here, you prolly think you the man too
This was supposed to be Quban
I’m thinkin’ I must have it backwards, what happened they ban Qu’?
I was at the selection process like oh this shit is lit
Flipped over Qu’ (cue) card and shit went completely off script
Like fuck the teleprompters, had everybody in here buggin’
Like “nah it was supposed to be Swerv—” n***a no it wasn’t
I can tell you really happy to be here
Especially as the replacement, you see what the sport did
Got you in last minute to send you home first, you should’ve forfeit
I had homies wit’ bright futures that really died at 25
Like never seen 24 and shit
Tell me what—
[Round is stopped due to time limit prompt]

[Round 1: Swervoo]
I said, first off bitch I am pissed to be here
‘Cause when they set this matchup, they only deemed one of us great
You told Unkle Ra in a interview that you’ve never seen me battle before
And the shit wasn’t up for debate
We got a little crowd around us then you said you seen me battle
And then said I was trash, I’m like this n***a is fake
Somebody gotta put bro in his place
This is the JaMarcus Russell of this class
Not because you won’t live up to the first round hype
But you lied about seein’ them tapes
And it ain’t no escape, so the shit ill
I thought I was gon’ come to the West and shoot everything up
‘Cause they said I would get killed
Even take some shots at EFB
But my bro said “nah, sit chill”
You gotta be dreamin’ if you think yo’ status high enough to shoot at Geechi
Get Real (real), Sig peel, you ‘bout to die
But you ain’t gon’ have a chance to have no service ‘cause I’ma leave the church oh so vacant
‘Cause what happen when you put a funeral and a Swerv’ (swerve) together?
N***a the hearse won’t make it
Disrespect oh so blatant, new features on a K
Just in case you make it outta there safe
I hope your family knew what typa life you live
‘Cause I ain’t came to play
I’m ‘bout to burn you wit’ a big chop, they lookin’ at me like I’m insane
You must’ve kept our beef a secret to ‘em
‘Cause they confused on why I took it to the grave
N***a bang, I know y’all wanted Quban
But now my time near
And I’m here to put Real Name in a box, show you I’m cut out for the work
And all my past experience makes sure it applies here
N***a the 9 near
I will up it and bang it, your whole face get rearranged
Coroner’s lookin’ at you like Smack was lookin’ at that Quban card
This can’t be the Real Name
Sig bang, this the fan favourite?
Well I brought a drum and a K just to stop the shit
‘Cause I feel as though since y’all wanna highlight Real (reel)
I ain’t got no choice but to get the chop’ and clips (to choppin’ clips)
I pop this shit, then it’s hospital beds
Your breathin’ fucked up, I’m talkin’ lungs off
Conversation to unhook the machine or can you be saved
I’m talkin’ Kyd Slade, plug talk
I’m ‘bout to run off
[Round 2: Real Name Brandon]
I just put a bayonet on my AR
He could get shot in the face, or a clean cut
You from MD right? Cool, either way you gon’ need one
I get so much joy when I let the semi blow
Extendo about 12 inches, like the old boy video
I really put a foot next to the serial (cereal)
Mini 30, hit you from down the street
That bitch shoot plenty far
Lick a shot, knock just the top off, that was a titty bar
I catch him slippin’ in his whip, this n***a gettin’ riddled wit’ fire
Dashboard, that whole bitch look like swiss inside
Museum worthy, the exhibit look like Pimp My Ride
He was talkin’ tough ‘til this bitch waved then it was a shift in tide
He was dead from jump but you don’t even get the sign
Soon as the homie did this, it was time to go
What y’all didn’t get it? The sign is (sinus) up the nose
I’ll blow that
Just because this trey 5 on me don’t mean I won’t scrap
The same n***a that ch-ch and then push yo’ skull back
Will pull it off his hip and hand it to the homie like here hold that
Run my fade, you from Maryland
We on different time
Come to Cali tryna run these streets? And be sleep by 9
Anywhere I’m at it’s ashin’
N***a that’s a movie
I ain’t gotta grab the toolie
I’ll really take off (Takeoff), n***a gon’ feel like he got left off “Bad and Boujee”
Did you prepare for this? We are not the same
Did you tell your family you was gon be on Caffeine?
Did you bring yo’ bae?
Did you know you could die for real, dependin’ on how you train?
Get smoked in front of his bitch, yeah he goin’ out the Carlito way
Semi-auto, send a hollow
Code word: John Leguizamo
Y’all lookin’ like what that mean?
You gon remember me, you’re Benny Blanco
Stomach shot, nah this when shit get scary
I should’ve named this bitch Keisha
All it’s known for is belly
It’s hella bad
Your whole family, hella sad
Hit Swervoo wit’ a chopper so big, it need a helipad
I’ma get wit’ bruh, I’m wit’ the fisticuffs
N***a my hands was registered, before my pistol was
It’s lit for bruh
I give him everything he deserve
I’ll pull up, skrrt, talkin’ tough could make these disperse
N***as love to run they mouth, ‘til they gotta eat they words
All that showin’ off gon get you pulveri—
You n***as gon make me reach on Swerv’
YOUZ A- YOUZ A BITCH, YOUZ A BITCH, YOUZ A BITCH, YOUZ A BITCH
We can scrap right now, if that’s what he do
I’m bipolar from the shoulders, nice wit’ the hands, this shit is mean too
Animals, that’s all that my family breed’ foo
And they wonder why I act like this
Off the cuff it seems (seams) it’s in my genes (jeans) too
If he’s who (Evisu) he says he is and cut from that cloth
YEAH, YEAH, YEAH, YEAH, YEAH
If he’s who (Evisu) he says he is and cut from that cloth
Then why it don’t show
I be pressin’ n***as for real, iron on me, I got the pole low (Polo)
I leave eyes (Levi’s) black and shut, that mean they both swollen
I said jeans, Evisu, Polo, Levi’s, okay the fashion over (Fashion Nova)
Grab the toaster
WHAT, WHAT, YEAH, YEAH, YEAH, YEAH, YEAH
Okay the fashion over, grab the toaster
Is you drunk bitch? I got the ratchet loaded
Massive fours wit’, mags unfolded
I’m really engaged to the gat I’m holdin’
I’ma fuck around and marry pop (Mary Pop’)
Man I’m super Cali (supercali-) fragilisticalidocious
N***a you can’t fuck wit’ me boy!
[Round 2: Swervoo]
I know I brought my Calicoe out here but ain’t nobody ‘bout to get killed, Smack
We was friends before this, I mean it’s still that
He was a good host when I was in LA
Took me to get somethin’ to eat when I was hungry I was feelin’ real stressed
I’ma do the same, take him to where I’m from
Where n***as get killed at, where you can’t chill at
If you don’t know nobody where I’m from, and try to walk the streets
You will get peeled next
I mean without me, you try to roam DMV, it’ll be a Real death
I’m at his crib next, with two 30s
I ain’t ringin’ the doorbell and I ain’t creepin’
‘Cause if I put these two legs together, it won’t be a knock needed (knock-kneed)
Stop speakin’
If you didn’t know that Maryland n***as into kick doors
I’m in your house, what he do as soon as he see me
This bitch froze, I chase him upstairs
Now you gotta jump from the second level just to escape the extendo
And everything done went left wit’ Swerv’ like Nascar drivers
And only exit is through the window
If I pull this, it’s a big opportunity on the West so you know I came to kill somethin’
So it’s a Glock just to make sure I get this shot
All I need is one, Name (one name) like McLovin
For real thuggin’
I come to one of them Riot events and shoot that shit up
Gotti lookin’ like you real buggin’
But y’all from LA, you know exactly what to do during a riot
Steal somethin’
I’m talkin’ clappin’ shit
Kill you, then hide all the evidence
The coroner’s on the scene like “what happened, shit”
I mean he was destined to go to the finals
But I made his final destination look like a freak accident
I’m talking clappin’ shit
You drive by with Geechi and Rum, just know I’m finna spazz
Fhoo-fhoo, I’m talkin’ bullets hit the glass
Then the car crashed
I’ma need the best lawyer in the world
‘Cause every fuckin’ bar passed
Tinted whips, we for real ridin’
Bullets, they still flyin’
He tried to run, you can’t save him
He gotta go, he still dyin’
I push a button, they asked me how this go so smooth on Caffeine?
It was just real time, time


[Round 3: Real Name Brandon]
Nowadays everybody got gun bars
And 90% of these n***as have never owned ‘em
Everytime I write a gun bar
I’m talkin’ ‘bout the one that’s on me in that very moment
Baby 9, bigga 9, .380, the chrome one
N***as lookin’ like they ain’t worried about a .380
Do your homework on it, as soon as you see the chrome, book (Chromebook)
I’m from ‘Dena, bang bang every night
Gun sounds, that’s what I used to hear
You n***as grew up on iPods, I’m from the compact disk era
CDs (see, these) rounds is music to my ears
That’s just the difference in how we was raised
80’s baby, but the 90’s was fire, like the shit we watched on TV
Y’all even had Bluetooth speakers
We grew up on The Wire
That was crazy, you see how my mind work?
Telekinetic, what you don’t fuck wit’ it?
You don’t see how I be movin’ the crowd?
Without touchin’ ‘em?
But I get it, you don’t know how the gorillas move out here
If I go in my bag, llamas, bulldogs, eagles
IT’S A ZOO OUT HERE
I’m stupid nice, wit’ any caliber that I do shoot
I call this rifle ballerina, ‘cause these bullets dance
Yeah this a .22 (tutu)
I ain’t even open up all the way, I’m on my moonroof
But if this gon’ be the body that force me to push the pin
I’m doin’ voodoo, you goin’ home
You won’t ever rap at this event again
They might not even let you win
You better pitch a tent, they not gon let you compete
But in his defense
He ain’t know this typa smoke would fuck up his run
Sha’Carri Richardson
It’s lit for him, I’ll spin this bitch
Then peel his shit, like a can opener do
You from Landover?
Well I won’t be content until it’s land over you
He thought shit was sweet, until this bitch blew (blue) like Mystique
Everytime my son want to quit
I tell him the same thing I told the n***a preparin’ yo’ grave
Dig deep
The West run battle rap, on every tier
Rum, Gotti, they been givin’ y’all hell
I ain’t never seen ‘em take a loss
But I seen ‘em throw up C’s so chonky, that it look like a L
See it, believe it, achieve it
This shit was manifested
I killed everybody they put in front of me
There’s not one death in question
Smith & Wesson or the Ruger
I’m not picky when selecting the weapon
I’m just as accurate wit’ both arms
I’m ambidextrous
Rusty blade give him a clean cut
But he still need the antiseptic
I got guns everywhere, just in case shit get hectic
I got the FN (effin’) in my mama house
Like I don’t cuss in front of my parents
I go by my real name ‘cause that’s as real as it gets
Authentic, I’ma show you how to market this shit
Most n***as’ll do anything for the chip
Kunta Kinte, I’ll never change my name for a whip
Rap n***a!

[Round 3: Swervoo]
Clearly, you been on the West just wildlin’
I seen your game tapes, and it’s not the same when you out of town
You not impressive, y’all tried to tell me that Real sick (Real Sikh)
And I just couldn’t wrap my head around it
Y’all think that he astoundin’? I’m just not seein’ it
His slogan is “Kunta Kinte I won’t never change my name for a whip”
Well shit, see me then, I’ll pistol whip you
‘Til all your facial features fucked up and your teeth pushed in
I’m talkin’ literally, change, your identity, because of a whip
Like a CPN, I need this win
‘Cause once I get it
You gon’ try to blame the underdog narrative and y’all gon’ be okay wit’ it
This shit is senseless, Taraji P. Henson
You know this bitch ‘bout to play victim
But I ain’t ‘bout to play wit’ him
‘Cause I been itchin’ to crush him
You are 6’4”, we can fight it out or shoot it out
Either way I ain’t runnin’
I’m wit’ all the threats, Ron Artest
I’m talkin’ ‘bows to the Thunder
We could go just how you want it
‘Cause I’m really insane, I’m into usin’ a blade
But now it’s Meta World Peace
Fwhooh, switch Real Name
I came for real pain
Wasn’t really a neglected child, was just runnin’ wild
I mean I made some bad decisions, was runnin’ wit’ the wrong crowd
I mean I started pushin’ drugs, even PCP, ‘cause I was gettin’ money
It was worth my while, I stayed true to it, even when the feds ran in the house
They flipped the couch, flipped the table, the jars of PCP fell on the ground
I stayed married to the game, even after all the broken vials (vows)
This shit is wild, that’s why I gotta preach just how it is
N***a, I done been around every drug known to man
Just come and see how we live
I know a n***a who can cook up some hard so perfect
If he told you that it’s crack, you wouldn’t believe that’s what it is
Crystals looked like beach souvenirs
You don’t talk like that! Now you could see the demon in my eyes
Now I’m ready to heat this shit, come to the Caffeine event and let it fly
I caught him when he was outside
I mean they made everyone put they COVID mask on
So it was just another six foot n***a on the ground, nobody look surprised
They walkin’ ‘round the body, like this cannot be Brandon
Geechi walk in like don’t believe them lies
‘Cause when it’s Real you could tell, you could see it in his eyes
That’s round