[Round 1: Cortez]
Raleigh, what the fuck is up?
Yo listen, I'm from an era where we ride for blocks
Slide on opps in a hoopty and we ride for blocks
I give a fuck about Snake Eyez, as long tonight it counts when I get the Title shot
If you've ever been hated on before, put ya hand in the air
You know what you tell that hater? Suck my dick
What you tell that hater
[Crowd: "Suck my dick"]
Aye yo Surf, if a n***a ever hated on you for ten years but never pull up or wanna pop off
You know what you tell that hater?
Suck my dick
Aye yo Surf, suck my dick
That shit you pulled in the facеoff, I know you prolly was joking, I'm not laughing
I'm here for a hommi, I'm toting
You and me, facе to heel
So when I body opponents
Can spray over the Title like I'm Hollywood Hogan
I'm not for the joking
You see me and mines, baby
Mind crazy
Nines, eighties
Coming back with a 45, and I'm chasing a Title, Tom Brady
Why play me?
Knowin' it's Murda Ave
Knowing it's my turn to spaz
Yeah, they hate, so I'mma balance the negatives like I overdraft
First, we gon' cremate 'em, then burn his flag
You'll sell more when you dead anyway, that's how you earn in ash (urn and ash)
Fire one, iron dump
Smoke burn through his iron lung
When the K boom, it's gon make the Shade Room
Smack, see this a viral one
Bulls in the 90s, for a decade I watched the Title run
But now since you out here, we in Raleigh, so I'm out here
I let a round flare
And I scope Neighborhood, I might buy a house here
Rounds flare
You was lacking, so we wrapped 'em in plastic, like nana' couch chair
How dare you disrespect my people
You know they used to call us wetbacks
They said my people swam 'cross borders
So what the fuck is a Wave, when my grandfather literally moonwalked on water
Que te dije no me jodas
Fuck it, drilling like Sosa
Make 'em sosa
With me pistola, entra la boca
Let it [?]
Fuck, I gotta put in subtitles or something?
Oh, y'all don't know what I'm saying, son?
Translation, I was hitting licks before I ever knew of my native tongue
Is he Puerto Rican, is he Mexican?
It doesn't matter at all, you was dragging it, dog
They don't care about race, the consensus only cares if I black on this card
That's why I'm outside, I'm never hiding
The metal flying
Who gives a fuck about race, when dead's how they identify 'em
That's the shit you did, you did that for promotion?
To provoke him?
Knowing it would make me mad
Knowing I'm gun-happy, and that could trigger emotions
Bitch please, that's why I'm letting six squeeze
Right inside of his wig piece
He always talk about, 'it's levels', so what?
Every casket is six feet
Bitch please
I grip heat
This shit is big as the Jets
And it's gon strip him for that drip on his neck
You shouldn't stand it when I'm lifting a TEC
The shots can knock Tidal wave through Roc(k), that's the ripple effect
Cannons'll burst, I'm popping 30 like I had me a perc'
The kid napping (kidnap in) NeighborHood, it's an Amber Alert
It don't matter
It don't matter where you at, bro
The Atlanta house, ya grandma house
I ain't messin' around
You know that the weapons around
Five from the deuce, four from the tray
You ain't the only with nine consecutive rounds
So when nine blow Tsu way, it sink into his kufi
Flame, then bubble his top, call that a soufflé
And it crack a hard shell like Taco Tuesdays
He called me Mexican, good, that's why we packed this bitch from wall to wall
Court of (quarter) law
I'mma face time like Audemars
When you get drug right in front of the church, it's like an altar choir
Then I spin, then slide on wave, don't go chasin' waterfalls
Where's all these chains you getting?
I would bring up that PPP loan, oh, that ain't my business
And like I said...
I appreciate you reaching out
But wait 'til round 3, there's some shit we gotta speak about
[Round 1: Tsu Surf]
I can't speak ya native language, but I would let a TEC fly
Cor, if this even feel like a lick, Colombian neck tie
They ask me how I feel about Cor', I don't like 'em
Your birthday's ya death date, your life span a hyphen
Imagine playing gangster on cam, that's indictment
But I'll let it rip off air (ear), Mike Tyson
I'm here for the cake, the 3-0 just the icing
We'll ice 'em
You'll be with the wings, that's a Breitling
I'm exciting
See that half moon turn Lycan
Once it flash, drive, his whole memory, wipe it
Bat with the nail to Cort's side (court side), I'll spike 'em
You old, we push to the side that typewriting
You ever been to granddad house, I'll invite 'em, light 'em
Leatherface, cut 'em up, slice 'em
Stinking, reekin' ('Rican) everywhere, Dyckman
I go hammer (ham and) crazy
Finger lickin' like a grandma made it
Shang Tsung, took Twork soul, got animated
Why I'm thinking about killing kids
Damn, I'm crazy
Bigger nine, in a stroller like Spanish babies
You don't even speak ya own language
I show you what to do, poppa
Far as you and me go (Migo), not friends, two choppers
You know what I do with a K, boo blocka
This my shit, but fuck it, mi casa, su casa (Tsu casa)
You don't even speak ya own language
That's an oxy', how you papi?
Stick like ya Spanish, choppy
Big stage, shine on these floors, Epoxy
Two two three hot, chip a kid, make him Taki
Four to the scalp, get caught in the mouth: hibachi
Bald head, blue in his eyes, I make a Nazi
Blade stick thick, get side burns like Ashanti
Two arms straight to the arm, I'll make a zombie
You are not it, you should stop it
We break his legs, you wanna visualize how I pop it?
SI got pupils, why would I risk (iris) fucking up a profit (prophet)
Leg shot, Cor' knee'll (cornea) pop out his socket
Or tore an ACL, can't run on it
I'm in love with my chopper
I'll bongo forever, I put a drum on it
You wanna know what nashty (nasty), gettin' shot in the mouth
Or pistol whipped the bull dog so bad, Flea was still on it when we got in the house
They said who would he be in the NBA, I could not think of one
Shit was scrambling my brain, wouldn't comin' up with none
Then it hit me, at best he Delonte West: a mother-fucking bum
Clip slamming
Be careful, you'll die over crip slander
Stitches like a millipede, head wrap, big bandage
Get to cooking in the house, rose from the floor to the room, shit damaged
It go through Cor then ate everything behind him, I'm event planning
You couldn't beat me then, you damn sure can't beat me now
Code word Bush, let's see him try to beat a round (around)
Spanish bitch, well I hope you got a heat around
If it ever rose on stage, Selina down
How many of ya battles locked away?
Your career couldn't hold shadow to mines
I'm electric, a thousand vaults (volts) couldn't hold a battle of mines
You think you nice? Why?
You need to stop it, my granddad was a boxer, I leave his shit knotted
Them drugs you rap about, the Greyhound how we got it
You ain't never flip no cane, Cor, so, so stop it
All this top tier money, I really think your brain be frying in ya head
I'll expose the pussy in Bodega, always lyin' on the bread
At this point it's me versus me
I'm at war with a beast
Boy, I kept my mouth shut when I got caught in them streets
I never tell, why? 'Cause the law ain't for me
I gun butt 'em, that's how handle Cor (court) in the streets
Head blown, we'll be pulling out a charger like dead phones
I can't make them put respect on ya name, but I can make them put ya name on a headstone
And if it ain't sixty-thousand or better, then it's fuck haters
[Round 2: Cortez]
Yo, for months these bloggers been reckless with talk
Had me question the sport
Angry Fan, Piperboy, HipHopIsReal
Made me question the sport
Shit, even Norbes
He said, what's up with me, Tsu and you URL (suin' URL)
I said, it's getting settled with Cort' (court)
You watched me when you stepped off the porch
It's Brooklyn, the town heard of us
Strapped in a seat, he plain (plane) shook, that's wild turbulence
Trump mask, we out Purgin', we wild murderers
Cort (caught) snatching Grandsons, like child services
I'm on some murder shit, if we spottin' cuz, the Llama tucked
And you Crip?
Oh, it's gonna be a lot of spilt milk by this Bodega, they gotta mop him up
Brain matter scatter, a lot of guts
Shit, the fans can go from watchin' in a lot, to watching you in a lot of a blood
The yellow tape, surroundin' cuz, I get even, okay
I won't stop squeezing 'til I see mama Surf weepin' away
Like them verses you never sent, bitch, you gon' lose a feature today
Body Surf, I'm puttin' hands and feet on the Wave
Gem Star, against Tsu (ginsu), 'til it weakens the blade
I'm Pete Davidson, I sleep with the K
You know the deacon gon' pray
But this herb and shit
I ain't concerned a bit, what utter out of Surf his lips
It ain't worth the lick
Math jumped inside of his live, you was nervous, bitch
Like this a AP-, that's a nervous tic (tick)
Bitch
It's official
I'mma turn up, AMG mode
It's official, what I've been through's hard
So it's essential I ascend you marks
See all this shade, made my mental dark
Bullets ain't got no love, but they meant for hearts
Razor's edge against Tsu sharp, ginsu sharp
From the start, you used my name for your promo
After today, that's no go
The range on this .44, Dame from the logo
What you gonna talk about, that 100K though?
I fucked it up, I still say thank you to Drake
I'm still making the ranks
There's still top tier money after today, Smack raising my pay
I don't care what you think
I literally went from not cracking a vault to breaking a bank
That's why now my booking fee's the price we cook a key
Shit, I was pushing lean back when R Kelly was pushing P
Shots'll make him spin where he stood, that's Booker T
For the flag, I'm in the field
Bow, bow, I took a knee
N***a, look at me
It's Bodega
But my cats ain't sleep
The whole staff is holding
We got magnums, serials, scratch off
'cause the grams is golden
He try to lockpick, ihhh, but the ratchets blowing
The next time y'all hear that ihhh, his casket's closing
Why you not hype
N***a, you was a fan, I remember
Now it's "I hate Cort", boy you dragged it forever
Hermaphrodite, I know you have an agenda (halfin' a gender)
But it's cap in the era
Ron Artest in the stand just how I handle the heckler
You know the vault don't crack under pressure
That's why I'm smackin' whoever
Outside, me lackin', I'm never
I used to fuck MAC models, with the MAC on the dresser
That's why ain't no scratching my record
Before the tracks I did with Statik Selektah
I told Smack, it's whoever
Big stage, small room, app, Caffeine, it don't matter
Why try? Nine fly
When blood hits the Wave, and his stained white tee is to tie dye, and a Ti' dies
Murda Ave, my block in '99, it was The Walking Dead
My reality, it was sci-fi
I smoke target, dome cartilage
Soaked carpets, closed coffins, and mo' targets
Brooklyn, I spin blocks like it's no parking
No talking, I ain't got no option to fail
Shank made from a toothbrush, in case my opps in a cell
Just 'cause you was locked, it does NOT mean you're not gonna tell!
Ain't you start Midnight Madness?
Cool, it only proves he still locked in with 12
And like I said, I appreciate you reaching out
But wait 'til round 3, there's some shit we gotta speak about
[Round 2: Tsu Surf]
Since I came in this shit, for the last 12 years, you been on Math dick, get off
You or Math can't afford a AP, that should tick you off
Aye papi, let me get a sandwich
Mayo, ketchup, pickles, swiss poppy seed
I'm about to kill this shit
I shoulda ate before the battle, stomach growling, I could feel this shit
I know, I know, I know, sound like silly shit
But that’s a code for a body, let me tell you what that really meant
Some say I may owe you a fade, would you stop, Flea?
Swiss cheese nozzle, catch a (ketchup) red laser on top, please
The bun, that's the drum, I open up pop's seed
Salt ('ssault) with everything, the back of Bodega will be chopped cheese
Our pick'll (pickle) get the place (plates), silencer pop
Apparently (a parent leave) he never heard that
One step farther (father), motherfucker, and a bird clap
Split a house, straight down the middle how Surf act
Why's he caught in the middle of my shit, kids don't deserve that
They gon' have to say a cheers for ya friends, lose a couple when the nine peel
Hospital, Cor (core) cast all white, let's how getting signed feel (Seinfeld)
I kidnap ya she-boy on Sunday, bitch don't get left out
Monday machine day, tryin' to rip her neck out
Tuesday, leg day, blood start to sweat out
Wednesday for pictures, how we show the (shoulder) press to get the mess out
Thursday, chest day, let 'em poke a breast out
Friday, man, Friday, screams get let out
Ransom get set out
A 124,000, in 24 hours
Fit in this bitch gettin' stretched out
You warn what?
You know how many blocks I done tore up?
Tengo frio they dont get that 124 up
Let her leave a message, bitch you better say Cor suck
He gon find Fit bottom ripped, that's the warmup
When it come to beef in these streets, empanadas, I hand-made it
Anybody thinking Papi gon' cook, well tuh, that plan tainted (plantain it)
The heat up
Your stock was mini un poquito 'round the time I tore T up (tortilla)
But let's rap (wrap)
Witness say something from the private flew, it was jet black
This fall somewhere 'round the waist, set back
I hope Cor set strapped, or you'll hear a neck crack
Find where they hustle at, that bitch'll be a death trap
If I gotta chase down a V, I wreck (Iraq) that
Sixteen squeeze in a whip, I wet backs
I still hear you getting top tier money and sellin' sneakers
And got the best shit out
Boy, I pull up with the TEC, X shit out
All my fools play, let the tool spray, it be doomsday
Body lose pigment, skin tone cool gray
Or the blackest silver nines or fours, he'll die for 'em
Broad day, be in a sneaker hype and line for 'em
Sneakers? Top tier? How he even got time for it? (Tom Ford)
I got bricks and Yeezy boxes, I could pull all kind chords (concords)

[Round 3: Cortez]
Aye Raleigh, I appreciate y'all reaching out
But I need total silence for round 3, there's some shit we gotta speak about
What you know about leagues holding ya footage, begging Smack to put ya shit out
You talking 'bout the opps got a hit out
You said they hit ya legs, ya ribs, ya wrist
And views is some shit you tryin' spit 'bout?
My battles been vaulted forever, Tsunami
There's still some rounds I can't get out!
But now that Smack sent the contract, I'mma work the pen to murder him
I got one night to fuck up NeighborHood, so let the Purge begin
I told Smack, send them hearses in
I ain't impressed with none of ya latest shit
Them last nine rounds like Jaz' body, basic bitch
He ain't raiding shit
That's big cap, Raiden shit
And with the chop, Tsu, we (chop suey) split 'em, now that's an Asian dish
I raise the Smith, bitch, this a playoff game
For years me and the gang we made our name off 'caine
If he get locked, he start singing, oh, you say our names
I lift a bat and I A-Rod Wave
I don't play no games, I'm from a cold era, Bodega
Burner, under the low sweater
But my bitch, she hide the strap in her Bottega
Don't get knocked off
See, this a fake bag for me
I'mma put the Fear of God in ya soul (sole), ya fashion weak (Fashion Week)
That's why I'mma send you to the hood, see I license carry
Life was scary
The skeletons in my closet ain't no Mike Amiri
Why compare me?
Knowing I don't fuck with y'all
For years you put a stain on name and tried to put me under dog
So I'mma take that negative and turn it positive and show y'all why I define what's an underdog
I'm Tom Brady at the Superbowl, when he's down 25 at the half
I'm 50 after took nine, see this here is the Aftermath
I'm Nas' Takeover, but he was on his Ether run
Nick Foles when the Eagles won
Lebron down 3 to 1
So what the fuck is up
Smack, you said for me to beat the odds, I gotta knuckle up
Good, I'mma hit 'em with a Ali rope-a-dope and Buster Douglas uppercut
The fuck is up
I told you
I told you, I ain't struggling either
Tell Chess, he act bold (bowl), then I'm cutting his leader (litre)
I'm tuckin' a Nina
Surf, ain't no disrespecting mine
You better pray Jaz working and connect the line
'Cause you'll really need operators pressing nine
Bow! Bow!
Bullets leave him with a broken face
How the fuck you got court today, but I'm the one that's gon' leave here with the open case
This social media hoe's a fake
On Twitter like you own the place
You get a burial and a plot for the next time you host a space
Brooklyn, the lead squirt, from the home of the unemployed, but the TEC work
'Cause before a RIP tee, it be a 'Free Cortez' shirt
N***a, my heart differ off dark liquor
Palm triggers, calm hitters
'Cause the sawed-off a drawn, your liver gon' pull rivers
I'm fueled by the hate Dirt got for Vault' killers
Cut the talk, n***a
You a bitch, it's true
You ain't wanna battle, you hyped ya man
He got cut 'cause of the shit you do
That's not cap, that's facts, I'm a witness too
All for what?
Got Surf duckin Vault like Mr. Scrooge
Listen Tsu
Are you shitting me?
I'm grippin' heat
Bow! Stomach shot
His insides all in the streets
DNA everywhere, he's missin' teeth
Blew (blue) steel, my Crippin' piece
You'll Crip in peace
All 'cause he wanna live a Pac life like Lil Meech
You ain't no killer, please
I'm seeing it now
Don't y'all see it's for clout
He always talk about "I'm stepping stone", good
I brought a ladder than can even it out
Bow!
So either catch a hook fast
Or it's Brooklyn 'cause I'm back in my book bag
You pushed it back a month and a half, and you still couldn't whoop ass
Either way my pen is like the '96 rook class, all I need is a good draft
With yo' fraud ass, Surf
I know you like to blogging
Then you beef with Nunu on live, your whole type is fraudulent
Talk about "it's on sight", that's good
We use TECs (text) 'cause we don't like to comment
N***a, we slide in silence
They said I had no fight
They called me spic and wetback, like that's alright
I really am Mexican, 'cause my back been against the wall the whole life
And like I said, it don't matter if I'm top tier, dummy
As long as Smack keep paying that top tier money

[Round 3: Tsu Surf]
You think top tier money is top tier money 'cause you never seen top tier money
You stupid
But a bitch that ain't never had steak cooked possibly mistake a Friday's for a Ruth's Chris
Your best performance was 10, 12 years ago
That's why I'm not a fan
They be critiquing me like Jesus
You know what I woulda did with a Hollohan (hollow hand)
My front end be ya whole battle, we could not share money
Who Cor's link to on JPay?
I been getting n***as on a top tier money
Free the Gods
Now you battle rap's Bad Bunny
After sucking Math dick for 12 years, now you care about ya history
Me clowning you n***as is the reason you work harder
Just another arm I extend though (extendo)
But if I catch Bodega after hours, you gon' see an arm out the window
What you know about Wall Street and shit? I don't know much
But let's chop it, Pap'
Why everytime a Geechi, Eazy, Twork come around, ya stock'll drop
That's wild cold
You got n***as like Serius calling you ass, you worry about me, you need to dial Jones (Dow Jones)
But we past that
'cause we was in them one piece suits, the hazmats
Invest in stocks, it was operation NASDAQ
They said this could go 2-1 either way
Listen, Jon B
If you ain't tryin' to be where John be, don't listen to what people say
You got 81 battles, 81, and n***as still ain't hearin' you
Viixen, I will slap the shit out you-- my bad, wrong material
That' just practice for Viix'
Figured I'd rap with a bitch n***a, I couldn't rap with a bitch
No angles, no dirt, I ain't got the scoop, I dig ditches
They book you, me and URL did business
.40 Glock, lick in his mouth like French kisses
Or the blade, this shit got a taste for mixed bitches
You stink, you stink, you stink
Aye Smack, if you said no the first time they called you for this battle, blink
Your very first time on TV you did terrible
How it feel layin' on the couch with that L
Rex had you sleepin' on that sectional
You wanna know what's Ultimate Madness?
Gettin' 750 dollars for Ultimate Madness
You wanna know what's Ultimate Madness?
Saying ya mother hair napped you to solidify ya blackness
You wanna know what's Ultimate Madness?
Being 38 and not having that shit figured out
Thinking you hang with a couple Afro-Americans, we wouldn't pick it out
Only race that matter is the one to the hospital
You gotta watch what you say, you could ruin yourself
Talking about the gun to Math to pistol whip Mook
Why you ain't do it yourself?
With ya cop ass
And where was the gun to pistol whip Dizaster when he popped Math
Ya luck's (Lux) not the best
Delivery boring shit
No Hollow in ya DNA
A million views short of Clips
On that New York tree, you don't shine (Shine) at the top, that's a ornament
Flashbacks of Ice, lost a 100K tournament
Rex had you sleeping on the couch, y'all recording this?
When it come to Brooklyn, how you ain't the most important, bitch?
Always cryin', why URL treat him like the champ?
I'mma star, Cor'
And watch ya tone, bro (Tone Bro)
Tryin' to get this belt'll be hard, Cor' (Hardcore)
Fuck, I gotta put this in subtitles or somethin'?
Telemundo Cort'
I coulda did this in my boxers, choppers zoom on Cor'
And if it ain't 60,000 or better, then it's fuck haters
Iron Solomon, Math, Goodz, nut chasers