[Round 1: B Dot]
Till death do us part, Ave
This is something we can't make wait
You see, it's just like you with these toy guns
We got a fake Drake
(No disrespect, my brother.)
It's 'bout time somebody finally put me face-to-face with this—what, n***a?
If you see a bitch, you slap a bitch when you see one, n***a
I ain't never been a bitch and today ain't finna be the day I'ma be one, n***a
Fuck these punchline n***as
Every line: gun, squeeze triggers
Ayy, Smack! What's happenin'?
Ain't you tireda the same show?
All this poppin' with the straps from these re-run n***as?
Wе know what he sung, n***a
"Oh, that Top Tier diss? I had the bеst verse on that rap song!
Oh, I can't get no matches, Smack. I just keep gettin' passed on."
We hear ya, Ave! We feel ya, n***a; that's wrong
You deserve a huge battle! Somethin' that sounded big!
Now, you in here wit' a gorilla, gettin' blacked on!
Won't last long
You claim you mastered the game but can't level up
You afraid to act ya age 'cause when you rap on stage, the content would have to be better, huh?
So instead, it's just the young shit: you sellin' bricks, the Beretta bust
"But Dot, Dot, Dot!" Et cetera, et cetera
You ain't no live n***a! You dead to us!
You no competitor!
Old-ass n***a actin' young for the bitches
Yeah, well, a shark is the oldest predator!
I'm better, bruh
Why envy me?
We both old in this game but it ain't the same
You need the crutches; I'm on my own two feet
You joined EFB? Yeah, to make the news
Now, you gettin' coverage from NBC
And what we gon' see?
Every event, you gon' follow the Crips?
Well, that's type strange
He gon' be in every scene, chasin' the Nuts
Makes sense since you around I.C.E. age
Quite lame!
You was talkin' to Wolf like he was too old for the pill-poppin'
The pipe raise
That was fresh, man, but when he was in the tenth
You was right behind him in the ninth grade!
Dawg buggin'
Y'all love him
Birthed in this game old; now, he all youngin?
On nothin'
Don't mind me if I benj a man up
I'm just pushin' y'all button
Dawg frontin'
Bitch-ass n***as on Live wit' caps
My name in they mouth but not in they raps 'cause they bitch-made
I'll beat you n***as up—quick fade!
Who the fuck you think you talkin' to?
Blood, I'll sock you dead in yo' ribcage!
Where that bitch Tay? (Ayy, [?] homie [?]!)
After you get yo' shit caved!
Pacoima, n***a! With the Pirus, I been raised
Wanted to hit the streets at a kid's age
They tellin' me, "Chill, young Blood! Shit, you only in the sixth grade!"
Smack, I couldn't wait to leave my small room, hit the streets, and perform on a big stage
Shit's changed
We grew up squabblin'
Watchin' big homies throw bullets out the old Eagle like Donovan
Till a n***a my age snitched on the same homies we was mobbin' wit'
He got on that stage and told on all of 'em
Waitin' on a verdict was the only time I was afraid of a large audience
What you hollerin'?
New era? N***a, you way too old; don't waste yo' soul
You prolly thought Hov's 4:44 was about fo' .44s but no, no, no
See, when you hit a certain age, you gotta show the growth
You wanna be TBE? You can't keep punchin', n***a!
You gotta show da role! I know, I know!
It's just battle rap—right?—so it's just for fun
But you claim you put in work so we gotta ask what shit you done
"Oh, my name Ave so I'ma hit the Ave again and lift a gun."
Fake smoke! You never hit it once!
In spite-a that, you wouldn't double back on nothin' but a sticka gum
Okay, that double meant it's a webba lies if he spun!
What shit you done
Besides let go-a ya morals and get in battle rap to grip a gun?
If you really did shit in the past, you would be tryna change the future
In the present—that's how you gift to young!
Instead, you sung songs to the youth 'bout how to ship a ton
Just to have kids to hang witchu, speakin' they language
It's snake shit how you split ya tongue
What shit you done? We gots to ask him
What? Lane-changin'? Road-ragin' like that shit is fun?
Yeah, you gettin' drunk
But all that drive gon' fuck around and hit me and it's a hit-and-run
What shit you done? We gots to ask him
All this yellin' 'bout the TECs; lotsa cappin'
Where's the talk about buyin' gold as currency and not for fashion?
"Well, Dot, you flip-flopped.
It's either Piru shit or it's prophet-rappin'."
No, this is a marathon; this race is about profit-stackin'
We learnt crypto from a Crip, though
Nipsey taught without that victory, we not gon' lap them
Where's ya grown man talk? Huh? It's just not gon' happen?
All these bars about you raisin' a handle
What about stocks that's crashin'?
See, here's where we draw the line
You over 40 actin' under 30—improper fraction!
Stop the actin'!
I mean, you came out the Cave and started feedin' ya hunger
It's like that Netflix show Midnight Mass
Whatever you drinkin', Blood, got you thinkin' you younger
And what spell are y'all under?
"I don't know, B Dot. Ave come with the punches."
Yeah, but they all fake
Fat Blood ain't gon' raise nothin' but his heart rate
Where y'all got this mark ranked?
If it's over me, I'll give him the business...
And then we'll see the Shark tank!
Dawg fake!
If I get to the point, you'll meet a shark fate
Get stabbed wit' a knife I got offa [?]
My redemption: [?] shank
This the God, Nate!
"Oh, my name Ave so I gotta rap about the ave to make it match too."
Bitch n***a, we ain't ask you!
It ain't the fact that you rap like you half ya age because you have to
It's that you happy to do that garbage
It's even more trash when the n***a glad to!
That's why I'm at you!
[Round 1: Ave]
Yes!
It's 'bout time somebody finally put me face-to-face with this bitch
See, this was one that the fans want
But lemme say some quick 'cause I done had enougha y'all
How you gon' love a drunk Ave but mad when I got to every fuckin' bar?
What's the problem?
'Cause I done put in work for this [?]
Been consistent wit' every verse
Shit, I deserve to be cocky
Plus, I'm grown
If you that hurt, shit, don't watch me
And that's why you gon' adress me as sir, Charles
And that's word on these Barkleys!
N***a, you copy?
If we ain't got problems, let's leave it there
Mark my words: I'll put hands on Dot—we readin' braille!
Bitch, I'm in the streets as well!
N***a, who afraid of bangers?
You don't know me, kid; I done made it through stranger danger
So look, gangsta
I don't care about ya angles or ya preachin'
My question is, "Are we beefin'?"
If some [?] probably sneakin'
Try to sneak me off the set and we shootin'
And anybody can join Dot and I don't mean like how Rex be recruitin'
So don't be stupid
'Cause I'm one-a the dudes that respect ya movement
And reflect on how the ghettos affected wit' less improvement
But the threats, I'm never cool wit'
I'll shoot this large shotty that'll prolly list five percenta the God body
N***a, try me!
I'm outside, B
My stripes earned
Hood starts to book smarts; all my lessons in life learned
We was weighin' up and bought lead hammers
He just seen shit when it came to the porch; youse a doorbell camera
So where's ya manners?
This image you portray for these dudes prolly fool maybe a few
I mean, he say he a goon but that's these other rules blazin' they tools
Shit is not yo' glizzy to pop corn—boy, you stadium food!
Is dude a activist or a gang-banger tryna be active-ish
That act as if it's action inside them raps that he cappin' wit'?
'Cause I will get this bitch beat up
Or lay Charlie with the fifty—at least you can wish me luck!
Don't give a shit what set you claimin'
My hitters set they payment
I'll put figures on Rooftop like Christmas decoration
Can't find yo' location?
Call Caps 'cause he on ya
Or I just get a two for twenty like a Applebee's order
That's how we board up
See, you gon' complain about who I'm wit'
How I move don't affect or help you—get off my dick!
N***a sick I'm with the team lowkey
Well, go to the roof wit' ya principle
They still gon' choose to lean on me
'Cause I'm a beast and ain't shit sweet neither; believe it
We can throw it up right after the plate; keep it bulimic
Man, it's easy how I whoop on this goof
He start war—parkour; I'm on a run after I flip on the Roof
What, you need proof?
'Cause, bitch, you know I been 'bout that action
Thirty under the forty—that's that improper fraction
Wait, I ain't gotta clap; I got savages that'll shoot
I give a order, the baby by ya daughter—what battle truth?
Lil n***a, you rattle who? Nobody that's wit' my team
You better scatter! You can have all that chatter and bitch, I swing
This battle can get y'all lean
So if I was you, man, I'd tell this African bitch, "Bounce wit' that bark."
Like Prince Akeem!
Fuck you mean? It ain't just you that's movin' wit' hitters
I got shooters in my platoon prolly cool wit' y'all n***as
So involvin' the wrong dude a dilemma
'Cause as soon as a body drop, it's on Dot like you losin' at Twister
You view the picture?
For those that think Ave be up here bluffin', n***a, trust me
You can get ya bitch ass beat up for nothin'
And I ain't 'bout to fuss wit' no n***a either; the shoutin' [?]
So when Rooftop shot, y'all gon' think we brought out the drones
Bitch, I'm grown!
And try to play me just 'cause you home
All it takes to have my goons in the place is liftin' the phone
And y'all gon' see how the crew do
No Gs ride witchu few
We all know B's side pussy
Just call it Nunu
Do you!
[Round 2: B Dot]
You think you top tier now 'cause you fuckin' wit' Geech?
Oh, you the franchise? Are you dumb? Was it Rum
Or did JC turn water to wine and give you somethin' to drink?
Ayy, Gotti! You on point, God, the way you runnin' the plays
And got a n***a like Nate under ya league
What a hustle! Told him, "It'll be magic if you come to the West.
You should kill n***as. I got whatchu need."
But failed to explain no matter how many people you thirty too
He still number one on the team
Penny for ya thoughts!
(Come on, man!)
I just listed off the squad—aww, but I forgot Brandon!
Damn it! I gotta redeem
Wait, wait, wait; didn't I say Nate?
So that means I had a real name up in the scheme
Wake up from this dream!
You got casted as a extra just for Geechi to stay in the league
'Cause when it's lights, camera, action
Geechi and Rum ain't puttin' you up in the scene
Joinin' EFB watered down what you built and here's what I mean
It's like the lost streets of Atlantis
How Ave is always gon' be under the Cs!
Come up! Can you breathe?
You'll ride any n***a wave to stay afloat in this league
I mean, you movin' from side to side
That ain't the two steps that go with this thing
You fuckin' up the dance
Followin' other n***as' moves like you don't know the routine
Why go through this, king?
N***as playin' witcha character on story mode, controllin' the scene
What good is havin' a voice in a group where only the lead vocalist sings?
Y'all notice this theme?
It's not for pride
We liked you better on ya own, n***a; not gon' lie
We didn't even notice ya career was resurrected till ya left the Cave and pushed Roc aside
Ah, there's my guy!
From 2016, that battle, Nitty
No n***as wit' him!
No hypemen; not even Gwitty
No funny characters; just one n***a in the hood and that was Kenny
But now you the junior in the Mafia—? Never mind; it's not a biggie!
I just don't get him!
Grown-ass n***a joinin' crews, huh?
Fuck a battle rap clique, n***a—this rules, bruh!
Two Ps and one B; this the sign where my rules from
This can go either way but ain't shit debatable when my n***as chuckin' up the two-one
These dudes dumb!
I don't need a big entourage with the hype and gimmicks
Besides, I'd rather have my back against the wall
Then a n***a can't knife me in it!
Can you cite the difference?
When we see you on ya own, you one-a the nicest n***as
Soon as you get into one-a these groups that already got a Mike, you Pippen
When you was with the Bat, man, you was side-kickin'
They was robbin' you blind
You couldn't see at the time but ya man was the eye witness
Had to calm this joker down with the Ritalin
Told him he'll reach new heights and take flight!
Then, it was penguin steps, barely movin' inches
Was in the trenches
In the Cave with the Al-Qaeda on the line
Discussin' the crime business
They kept sayin' they was gon' blow up the Ave
False flag; I think yo bomb's still got the time tickin'
This is divine livin'
A 36-year-old that been through shit and dodged prison
I could never follow the leada n***as younger than me still with the .9 liftin'
In the landa the blind, the man with the third eye defines wisdom
They come press me and find a diamond
I'm one-a the coldest n***as; my mind different
This guy's trippin'
That's why I know you never been through shit
'Cause every punchline, it's the Ruger spit
The toolie grip
Or construction work: you move a brick
You supposed to look down at the n***as doin' what you've done
Instead, you look up to the n***as that's still doin' it
You goofy bitch!
(What the fuck?)
Dissin' my n***a Murda Mook and shit
That's a vet, respected
You bitch-ass new era n***as ain't no threats to legends
You ain't got enough [?] in the game to shake up in the race when he done already etched and sketched in
Youse a fifth-year senior hangin' out wit' freshmen
You was the Cave yes-man
You still got guano on ya face
How that Bat shit taste, pet detective?
I do not respect this!
Smack, lemme ask this question
You tell me how it seems
Don't you think a n***a that'll jump from team to team would also jump from league to league?
I mean, you built up the Ave, give him a road to success
He used that same path to leave
I mean, you made him rare, grew you a breed... gave him ya faith!
Just to see him on stage wit' a n***a sayin', "Do you believe?"
This n***a's a yee!
Jumpin' from clique to clique; you not a boss for that
Gettin' put on anybody hood; n***as get offed for that
I'ma be on yo' head like a Boston cap
How ironic! I'm tryna keep my n***as off the streets and my n***as tryna keep me up offa Ave!
This n***a's trash!
[Round 2: Ave]
I'm only up here witchu 'cause these other legends that you love to praise pussy
Yeah, I said it! N***a, one thing about it: they can't whoop me
Y'all know this should be so-and-so spot but he fake type
So they told me, "Punch on the Elevator." I'm Ray Rice
But I ain't mad at this match or hatin'
I get to snap to a runnin' back? Yeah, we in wildcat formation
Ol' boy thinkin' he exposin' some secrets
Oh, he can keep it! No cappin'
N***a, closed claptions: watch what you speakin'
You gon' preach about the Cave today?
Say Ave was made by Roc and the only way I got drive 'cause he paved the way?
Man, okay
I know there's some shit that y'all love to mention
But fuck who need convincin' if me and Tay ain't got tension
I ain't askin' y'all to switch to my view
Just understand I'll still swing over Roc like I'm Skip to My Lou
You come for them, that mean you fuckin' wit' me
You don't think I treasure Chess? What it's gon' take? Until you under the sea?
See, we stick to them [?]
Give a shit 'bout who sold you
Them my bros
Plus it's a lotta other shit that I go through
Kids, bills, crazy bitches, some mo'—[?]!
N***a, trust me: wit' Ave, you ain't gotta ask—bitch n***a, I told you!
Expose who?
You don't know me well enough to be judgin'
Career-wise, takin' you don't help my status or nothin'
So cut the shit before you start this façade
Like I had to find dry from the Elevator like a parkin' garage
Man, on God!
I got millions of views, seen all the stages
Battles of the year, impact with the rawest phrases
See, that's why they gon' choose big fella
And I made all that look hella easy with a ruthless record
What could you tell us?
I mean, you might be slick witcha writin'
But see, ya impact ain't shit that's excitin'
Gotti, Rum, Lyt, Diz who they hypin'
You might help the Left Side be a strong side but they only remember the Titans and you ain't like them!
It's like you just here for some quick fame
Doin' all these preachin' but barely eatin'—that shit lame!
I'm in this bitch to get change
So n***a, you can cut out this image or die with that broke shit like Squid Games
Don't be 'shamed; face the truth
Them stages is the loot, Uncle Luke
What you think was gon' bring a raise? The roof?
Youse a goof!
But you got the nerve to judge n***as' lives—okay, fam
I'll tell you how I blow my money sometime
I took bread from the Jey check, went and got some mo' change
The Ice check? Gun connect; I had to cop some mo' thangs
The Sikh guap bought my partner cocaine
Now, I'ma add up Dot's for another house like a dominoes game
We ain't the same!
[?], I dare you to try me
And they gon' read about Charles Burnely
I mean like, "Charles barely survivin'!"
'Cause if he fire, dawg can't miss
'Cause once we on the Elevator, boy, it's up and it's stuck
Call maintenance or we'll exchange fists
Getcha tooth work gone
Or back-to-back slams till he got a few hurt bones
'Cause I'm official with the scoop work, homes
Y'all gon' see Dot on his head and Dot on his che—I sound like Mook vers' Jones!
The fuck you on?
You fake-ass prophet that get it poppin'
Rockin' beads, flags, durags, kufis—goofy, just stop it!
We can tell fraud already
Oh, he got a method wit' knowledge behind bars?
So did the jail call in Bellies
Like, what the fuck could you tell me?
Trust me, this ain't no pressure
Battle-wise, ya status not as high; save all the lectures
'Cause really, ya stock sucks
Plus he ain't bringin' nothin' to the table for his name to be pulled from the potlucks
I mean, your Top Tier verse really sucked; shit was the worst
Had the nerve to follow me on the song; shoulda went first
Sorry, fella, ayy, ya blew it
But listenin' to dude tryna get to the flow done made us hate the Elevator music
All you provin' is ya envy
Blowin' all this fuckin' smoke 'cause you attached to the roof
Fuck, you a chimney?
That energy don't rattle me none
Give a fuck if you skip the PGs; you still hold the value-a one
What has he done?
Like, honestly, son
The people askin'
And we done seen ya contract, Dot
No need for braggin'
But you bash what we do for the skrilla
But you keep jump on these stages while gettin' paid less than Crucible n***as?
Oh, you just bitter!
Wait, I know the problem: it's too much Twitter
See, these fans got you gassed; now, you act as if you that n***a
But see, he done missed the plot
'Cause now the Wolf gon' get his spot
And they gon' add the ice cream right after they dip in Dots
N***a, what?

[Round 3: B Dot]
Ayy, Ave, we don't look at life the same and that's okay
I'm here to give you the lens so you can see how they live
They been impairin' ya visuals
I'm tryna take you on a walk, man, so you can understand how bein' radio silent when it come to these issues is critical
The shit you been transmittin'? Pitiful
Low-frequency programmin'; the playlist ain't that original
I mean, you fat, black, unhealthy, promotin' guns and drugs
Everything comin' out this speaker's stereotypical
But it's y'all individuals
Who sit at home, givin' props, applaudin' the rituals
See, it's an exercise on ya mind; it's all designed to condition you
Look at the food that they givin' you
Massa gave you scraps that you turned into dinner too
And then you turn on the TV to see a live feed of a n***a bleedin'
Receivin' the signals they sendin' you
Yeah, you watchin' death, eatin' death... all in ya livin' room
And you livin' proof
(I'm really him, Blood.)
Damn, Ave! Look what they did to you
Got you goin' to war witcha soul and...
Don't even know that the food and medicine is in cahoots
See, the food industry got you sick; they twisted you
All so the pharmaceutical company can say, "Ayy!
Now, in order to unwind, you gotta take our medicinals."
This is difficult
They got you in a bond between two place; they pickled you
On toppa that, you sip the juice
It get you loose?
I'm just keepin' it a hunnid, proof
All contributin' factors on why that COVID almost got ridda you
Here's what them crackers do
Fast food and liqour stores in every corner for the animals in the trapped-in zoo
You lookin' around at shit in ya hood, tryna figure out why it's attractin' you
Golden arches; that's symbolic language—that's how they chat witchu
"Oh, Dot's just tryna communicate."
If you think about it more, it's cold what they got us tapped into
This is actual truth
Oh, you gettin' money in the streets?
To the crackers, that's just scraps for the rats to chew
Oh, you gettin' to the cheese? Then you get snapped behind bars
They literally settin' the same trap for you
This corner they got you backed into
You can't afford it so you fast wit' food and splash the booze
Unhealthy immune lowers ya chance-a survival if a virus is attackin' you
It's like that acronym that you gladly use
Fuck Assumptions; Check The Stats—we did; they prove
That propoganda got blacks confused
They'll throw you a rope, tellin' you to hang yaself
And you believe the reporters as you catch the news
This is all for views
Are you gettin' the vision?
COVID killin' blacks at higher rates for pre-existin' conditions
High blood pressure from all that grease on ya chicken
Ya lungs fucked up from all the blunts that ya twistin'
Yo' kidney was fucked up from all that liqour ya sippin'
And you'll turn around and get a shot in the arm from the same people that distribute everything I just mentioned
(I'm really different, n***a.)
Ain't no helpin' you niglets! What for?
I mean, it was sick then watchin' you and Sikh war
"Oh, while you was bench-pressin', I was out, dodgin' a bench warrant."
So bein' in the gym is somethin' you wanna diss for?
That's why we gotta have this discourse
'Cause bein' in shape for a prison cell is the only thing they got you fit for
This a big war!
You gotta listen to the lesson I'm teachin'
Remember, you was drunk and belligerent
Talkin' to Verb, yellin' and screamin'
And as a man, he was calm, cool, and collected
'Cause the brother's a vegan?
The shit that you drinkin' got you spiritually unhealthy
You need to start exercisin' ya demons
Are you findin' the meanin'?
Ya brain's drownin' in sorrow from the liqour that ya top's absorbin'
This black man done took so many shots, you would think the cops was swarmin'
COVID almost took ya kidneys out without the doc performin'
I'm tryna help you find the keys to life since you almost lost ya organ
This is all important!
Find a new path! This is not the ave to take
Look, they killin' our people!
Look how they kidnapped Jelani Day!
They stole his organs, took him away
These crackers know that they dyin' so they study our genetics, lookin' to stay
I mean, they gettin' active, pocket-tappin'
Grabbin' our genes, lookin' for change
But you know what? But this culture is strange
It's a fuckin' circus; I don't understand you clowns
I mean, y'all entertained watchin' two black queens almost fight while black men just stand around?
I don't fit in wit' y'all; it's nothin' you could hand me down
"Oh, here B Dot go with the preachin'! I don't understand this shit."
Suck my dick! You understand me now?
Fuck battle rap!
I only pick up this call for the bag
I started off in the streets
It's only right I end this all on the Ave, n***a!

[Round 3: Ave]
I wanna holler at you, Dot
There's some shit I let rock 'cause I got respect
But bro, sometimes, you do a lot and it bothers me, I confess
'Cause yes, you clever wit' performance
And ya level of intelligence is flawless
But dawg, it's still skeletons in yo' closet
But you talk as if it ain't
Be walkin' like you the saint
And we often applaud ya art but it's awkward 'cause dawg, you fake
Like, you can't just paint this image-a pure
Judgin' n***as like you way above an issue—what? Bitch, is you sure?
Let's look some more
'Cause why you got this energy like this
When ya life is an identity crisis?
First, he writin' like he Lux so they can cut you a check
But bitch, that's bogus 'cause there's only one Loaded
Word to Russian roulette
I'm too upset that this fraud even known
Like, how you wanna be somebody when you grow up?
Bitch, you already grown!
The fuck you on?
Boy, you too far conscious
Dick-ridin' other n***as on that vibe; you all on Umar Johnson
This shit is nonsense
I mean, I'm all for positive content
But sometimes, you just come off like you beyond all the convicts
Then quick as a light switch is, he write like his life vicious
You got hammers? No, manners; you one-a Polight bitches
Like, what is this?
Like, dawg, you gotta make this shit understandable
You panther or a rooster? Stupid, just pick an animal
'Cause damn it, bro
These n***as vouch like it's all normal
While the rest of us compare you to Malcolm...
-Jamar Warner! Ol' Theo-ass n***a!
(Fuck you think talkin' to?)
We know 'bout ya life
Both parents, the college campus—damn, they molded you bright
You just refused to take the road that was right
See, errybody wanna be Cain until a Stacy holdin' on 'em like, "Fight!"
I know ya type
On God, you a faker
All these tales from the hood
Don't get it twisted: you a monster on paper
But you just ain't this woke in life
And if you are [?], that shoulda been the negro that you showed ya wife but it's hype
You see, we know 'bout them fights and the drunk nights
She ain't like your narcissism so liqour became her vice
Oh, the bounce was never little
You shoutin', wanna hit her
But do we understand?
He got little Malcolm in the middle
N***a, you were supposed to ride as a man
Find the time to build ya [?], pussy
Put ya pride aside for ya fam
But damn, you ain't have her back, killer
You tryna spar wit' JC
She out here, runnin' through rounds with the Yak, n***a
And I figure times get ugly but lemme remind you, lovely
You gon' have that evil spirit; out here is the Bride of Chucky
I mean, what, B?
The fuck we always gotta hear teachin'
And you ain't even out here practicin' the shit that you preachin'?
Oh, y'all can't see ya dawg is bogus?
Oh, y'all ain't notice Elevator even make bitches panic?
They claustrophobic
See, this whole shit, I blame on ya pops
'Cause he the one who introduced you to this life, right?
You say it a lot
So actin' like you had it rough is just tacky
Already had yo' daddy blood
You ain't have to be no Blood 'cause yo' daddy!
N***a, you happy?
This shit is exactly the fault-a you
'Cause yo' distractions knocked this n***a off track and this all the proof
You ought to feel like a goof!
Like, get this shit through ya head, G
You was a killer producer and he out here just a deadbeat
You led weak!
(Look at him, emotional!)
That's, to me, what it seems
'Cause you let him had them excuses which grew to not believe in his dreams
See, he coulda been on the team, like, offered a few spots
Insteada shootin' for the stars, he just stopped at the rooftop?
Man, that's on you, pops!
I hope you fuckin' prouda yo'self
With the shit you done, why would you want yo' son to follow yo' steps?
Unless he out here just pretendin' he like you
Which is fuckin' dumb because he got a son that's gon' continue the cycle
You see how life do?
That's why when you try to hype up this life like you this righteous type, it gets me excited to fight and strike you
'Cause it's like he just confused, bro, don't it?
His homies be like, "B rag!" but all we see is Malibu's Most Wanted
N***a, you frontin'!
Ain't been through nothin', yo' scared ass!
Fuckin' coon! Turn a silver spoon to a red rag
Just to brag like you ain't made no mistakes
Bitch, I will call up Ace and a real African'll paint on yo' face
N***a, you fake!
I told you, "Fix my plate." Right, Smack?
But they was sleepin'; it's time I bring my state right back
Don't give a fuck about these sucker n***as; they type wack
'Cause I'm a n***a outta Norfolk—straight like that!