[Round 1: Fonz]
Ayy yo
They said you don’t ever fuck up
I said shit last time we both had Stumbles
But they prolly don’t count that
They asked me how I feel about Sikh
I said I had COVID twice, was scared for my life but I made it about that
Moral of the story is: this ain’t the first time I got sick (Sikh) and had 14 days to bounce back
N***a stand strong
If you think you finna get past a Fonz L (Fonzel), my n***a you planned wrong
Ain’t gon’ be no preachin’ tonight, it’s cans on him
Yea I dress like a reverend, and what they do?
Gimme a Real Sikh (sick) n***a to put hands on
All aggression, provoke me? That’s something you never should
‘Cause I’ll flip from a pastor to a fuckin’ disaster (Dizaster) like Mеagan Good
Ol’ rappity rap n***a
“Bibbidy bibbidy bi-” always in battle mode
This pussy gon’ be midtiеr forever, like a camel toe
You mad basic
They gon’ say that the camp hatin’
But in order to beat me, you know what Sikh gon' (Citgo) need? A gas station
No growth, same flow when this n***a spittin’
It’s a difference
Why would I care about gettin’ Real Sikh (sick) when I know that my pen his ceilin’ (penicillin)
Who you kiddin’, respectfully
You ain’t never want wreck wit’ me
Flex on me and a blade’ll skin Sikh (sick): leprosy
TEC on me, all I need is one reason to shoot
Bitch you look the wrong way then I’m swingin’ on you
Beasley try to break it up then Ima swing on him too
‘Cause if that vaccine couldn’t stop n***as from gettin’ Sikh (sick), then neither can you
They said all I do is punch, n***a stop it
And if all I do is punch
[Crowd]
Then n***a block it
[Fonz]
It’s a fine line
I don’t want to hear none of them “finds” and “fine” lines
I’ll break your jaw, they gon’ have to soup you wonton
Get beat by a Judge, this Cal ain’t John John
I’ll pull up to that temple wit’ twin nickels and drive by
They gon say the Sikhs ate two 45 (6’8” 245) like Bron Bron
N***a fuck your religion
It’s up for this n***a, I’m not playin’
If I send them goons through then it’s prune juice
The stock raisin’ (raisin)
I show up to that temple wit’ pistols, we not prayin’
A Glock blazin’
End ya near (engineer) a Guru: Roc Nation
We not waitin’, I hit the n***a wit’ [?] shells
They tryna get the family to identify the body, they ain’t do too well
They all tryna look and see if that’s Real ass, like Nunu Nellz
And you a dead n***a
{Nunu turns around and grabs her posterior}
[Round 1: Real Sikh]
While I was writin’ a verse for this, I heard some shit
About that lunatic that walked in the school and then murdered kids, merciless
Saw people attackin’ rap, like all them gun bars ain’t worth to spit
But if they got it, you gotta have it, it’s how I learned to live
People be mentally ill, that’s the issue we gotta work against
See it ain’t the guns you should worry about, it’s when the person’s sick (Sikh)
You punchlinin’ ass bitch, I planned on a mission
It’s the beginnin’ of June, I gotta give the Landlord a visit
I’m crazy, this 30 clip’ll be what the rent is
Right now I ain’t got it all, I need an extension
This my shit, this my shit, this my shit, this my shit
So while you makin’ fun of my style and how it seems so fast
Ima “biggity biggity bi-” beat yo’ ass
This my shit, this my shit, this my shit
Rookie
[Fonz]
Let’s go, let’s go
[Real Sikh]
You’re a fuckin’ rookie
Ima “biggity biggity biggi-” beat yo ass
That old rap school
Go from boom bap to bap boom
This shit take half of a human like a baboon
Move rooms with shit I write
The who’s whos know Sikh is nice
Illest type in the new school wit’ a loose screw that’ll end ya life
Think you bulletproof too, tool shoot, it’ll switch tonight
Infrared beam they gon’ view you in a different light
He don’t do that
[Fonz]
That’s ass
[Real Sikh]
I’m iller
[Fonz]
That’s ass
[Real Sikh]
I’m iller than Fonz
Criminal mind, I give a fiend a hit then you die
I’m talkin’ cokehead killers who ride if you give ‘em a high
I call ‘em typewriters: they slide after they finish a line
Ima flip on this bitch
And switch into this
Fuck ya name flips, I’m gettin’ Real sick (Sikh) of this shit
When I cave in your ceilin’, don’t be bitchin’ for help
You the Landlord, right? Fix it yourself
Grip Glocks, lick shots ‘til the clip got spent
Think your girl gorgeous, I’ll make your chick drop dead
Shoot at your white tee ‘til your fit got red
Get clapped into new clothes like a TikTok trend
Wait, we ain’t one and the same, I see through
You named after the dude in Happy Days, we knew
So don’t be afraid when I raise these tools
You the Fonz? We in the A (ayy), be cool
Said “pallbearers deadlift”, that comparison ain’t equal
I’m thinkin’ wit’ the gauge like where are these hits lethal
After that, my homies’ll bury you then leave you
So he was judged by the 12 then carried by Sikh’s (six) people
Jersey, bitch
[Round 2: Fonz]
I said n***a this a warnin’
I told my gun connect I might be gettin’ sick (Sikh)
He said take two of these, stuff the nose, and call me in the mornin’
A real shooter, we really active, man
Whether it comes to trappin’ or clappin’ cans
So when Smack said send this Indian home, the first thing came to my mind was pack a stand (Pakistan)
And fuck a guru, when I shoot you, you goin’ to the man upstairs
100k on the line so I’on care if it’s Real (Israel), ‘cause for a bag that (Baghdad) big, I ain’t got no problem sendin’ the Arab there
And you gon’ spill blood
{Real Sikh mouths “I’m not Arab” while shaking his head.}
You gon’ spill blood
Fo’-five kickin’ like Mary J., got me searchin’ for Real love
I deal wit’ real plugs
Bitch you in it for nothin’
Them bullets go in Real, it’s the end of discussion
Then they come out Sikh (sick) like Benjamin Button
Grip it and dump it
This my word I get to clappin’ at dawg if he try me
Two birds to the back of his skull like Kyrie
If I put a red dot on his wrap, then Johnny (Jonny) or Quest can stop me from fuckin’ up Hadji
Fuck is wrong wit’ this f-
Fuckin’ wrong, man-
Fuck 7-Eleven
Ayy, Jonny or Quest can stop me from fuckin’ up Hadji
‘Cause if it’s real beef, Ima clutch and peel heat
You feel me?
The Landlord and I’ll put you on a real tee (realty)
And we gon’ shoot first
Got Sikh (sick) outta nowhere, the dude cursed
Big 40, I’m carryin’ it (Carrey in it) like Liar Liar, ‘cause where I’m from you gotta keep it real (, Real), the truth hurts
The tool burst and take half of his wrap (rap) like Tsu Surf
We gon’ do work
Y’all was ’posed to send me your best
Them n***as gave me a suicide bomber
And now the Thom’ (time) clickin’ down on a Indian chest
And you a weak bitch
Not even top five in Jersey that’s on some G shit
Ain’t nobody sayin’ in order to get to Wave I gotta see Sikh (seasick)
He ain’t fuckin’ wit’ me
He ain’t fuckin’ wit’ me
Ain’t nobody sayin’ in order to get to Wave I gotta see Sikh (seasick)
All you do is eat dick
“DNA gave me advice, Pat Stay said I was nice”
And you still don’t get no fuckin’ respect
Yea you went against some of the best
So when they say Sikh is a dog, I agree
That bitch die every time he in front of the vets
So be quiet
Against Pat Stay, we seen you fall flat, B minus
DNA fucked you up: T-virus
We violent
I will catch you wit’ yo’ spiritual leader and beat him up
A heater dump
Put a shell in the wrap: Gordita Crunch
Ahhhhh
What’s wrong wit’ this n***a
What’s wrong wit’ him
I will catch you wit’ yo’ spiritual leader and beat him up
A heater dump
Put a shell in the wrap: Gordita Crunch
It’s no hidin’
‘Cause in order to get rid of Sikh (sick), I want everybody shot I’m Joe Biden
[Round 2: Real Sikh]
Lemme school him real quick
I started this Ultimate Madness shit
Me vers’ Jey the Nitewing, that’s the first battle that they had for it
You grabbed a win but answer this
Why my path lapped you since?
You battled Shooney, Tink Da Demon, Drugz, mostly app events
You right I battled Arsonal, Ave and then Pat Stay after it
DNA, Chilla Jones, B Mag- that’s only half of it
On NOME
Lemme talk to him
On NOME
There’s a difference
On NOME I made Danny quit on Caffeine’s main stream
You was on NOME ver- vers’ JC, yea, on day three
I don’t
[Calicoe]
He said day 3
[Audience Member]
A Monday
[Calicoe]
He talmbout that’s a Monday
[Real Sikh]
I don’t
He battled on a Monday
[John John Da Don]
Chill, let him rap let him rap let him rap let him rap let him rap let him rap
[Real Sikh]
I don’t gotta block your punches, your punches blockin’ you, you sound so plain
You ain’t on any big cards, your amount don’t change
It’s without no gain
The Landlord, know why they don’t put him on a bill? ‘Cause he ain’t a household name
You ever main evented on Caffeine? No? I did
You battled the two highest viewed rappers in the wo- No? I did
See the first time I saw my favorite battle rappers rap a verse live
They were rappin’ rounds they had to prepare vers’ mine
It’s levels
Fact, Fonz so lost but he had heart though
He cool when he sober, wit’ liquor he get mad pronto
Two weeks ago, he got drunk and we had a bad convo
Guess he ain’t know that Brandy hit like Jack Harlow
So Smack don’t lie on the stream, who you more excited to see
The breath of fresh air, the sigh of relief
Don’t matter the time of the week, I show up at the highest degree
No chokes, angles, jokes, punchlines in between
Or the guy that’ll Google “Real” and “Sikh (sick)” then apply it to me
The guy that paid his due
Lemme talk to him
The guy that paid his dues vers’ legends, you could find the receipts
Or the guy that won 25 and then peaked
See, you thinkin’ where’s the punch? It’s too long-
L- listen listen lemme talk, he don’t rap like this
Or the guy that won 25 then he peaked
See, you thinkin’ where’s the punch? It’s too long I rhyme wit’ the scheme
I disagree, I feel like Richard Pryor, this is fire to me
Who you dyin’ to see?
The guy that battle outside of the league
Rap for 12 minutes in some backyard for prolly a G
That’s why your whole fee’ll never be higher than me
Just ‘cause you the Landlord, don’t mean you gotta sign for the least (lease)
You won 25k for four battles, but that ain’t great to count
‘Cause two years later you need five battles to make that same amount
I get 25k in about two battles wit’ what I’m makin’ now
Facts you can’t argue wit’
You hated on me since I started this
Just ‘cause you speakin’ ill on my name don’t mean you can talk to Sikh (sick)
You gon’ hate today, tomorrow, and then next week
Ain’t that some shit, I’m livin’ in the Landlord head rent-free
Jersey
[Round 3: Fonz]
Man they say them Indians not allowed to cut they hair off
I said dawg I give the n***a hella respect
‘Cause I know his bitch got a hairy ass pussy, they over there havin’ 70’s sex
She got the bush, she don’t cut that shit or nothin’
He eatin’ her pussy, it’s all curried and shit
Ayy listen
And his girl a personal trainer, well I be gettin’ lost in that
I’m talkin cartoon reboot, arch her (Archer) back
If we talkin’ facts, you don’t rap different, you look different
I’m just sayin’ it as a Real friend
So on a marketin’ side for you, they prolly came up wit’ a real plan
I’m talkin’ VH1, ‘cause they was thinkin’ Sikh’ll sell (sickle cell) during that first season, but bro died, he never stood a Real Chance
I killed Kroog’, Eazy, Ace, Jey, Lu, now you gettin’ yo’ ass kicked
It’s like when Danny choked in y’all battle, I done fucked up the whole class, Sikh (classic)
You not lyrical
You just rap fast and rhyme syllables
I’ll get rid of you
Not just in this battle I’m speakin’ literal
Scope on the rifle so play crazy and Ima really have Sikh in the visual (sick individual)
If he get physical, it’s lit for bro, he gettin’ split fo’ sho’
Ain’t nobody gon’ think it’s Real, ‘cause the docs gon’ have to fix your nose
Everybody who you wit’ get smoked
That’s the only way we deal wit’ opps
I’on give a fuck about none of that workout shit, cocky ass idiot, bitch ya still get rocked
Diamond tester, if I press him in the gym (gem), then it’s lit ‘cause y’all gon’ see me get Real a knot (real or not)
Get everybody in that building shot, I do not play
A Glock spray
Whatchu like 5’6” 215?
If I let this ring off in the gym you gon’ drop weight
Yea you got plates, but you be lettin’ down the n***as that helped you
Gettin’ fucked up, he a drunk, imagine URL puttin’ all that work into the kid ‘n’ he fail ya (kidney failure)
Ayy this Fonz n***a
This Fonz or get wit’ a big 9
This time, they gon have to send a nurse to his crib
A House M.D. or a Good Doctor in the ER to keep Sikh calm (sitcom)
I grip a weapon
Rusty blade, get hit in seconds
You might have to lose a limb, that’s [?]
‘Cause the doctor said gangrene was all I saw (Lysol), this infected (disinfect it)
Get protection, grip a weapon
The chrome’ll bang you, know the game
I let it dump then sling the arm; I got shoulder pain
Get punched and whipped like a Street Fighter bonus stage
And I ain’t gon’ just stretch the Indian, I’m gettin’ everybody in Yoga Flame
You foreign bitch
Better watch who you warrin’ wit’
Y’all know they gettin’ rid of all the Plan Bs, right?
So I’on have no other option but to have these hoes mournin’ Sikh (mornin’ sick)
And- Time, man
Fuck is wrong wit’ this n***a, dude
You can’t fuck wit’ me n***a
[Smack White]
Yea, yea, yea, yea, yea
Talk that shit, talk that shit
Yo, it’s last round, right?
[Round 3: Real Sikh]
Stop callin’ these dudes rappers ‘cause they punch
They practice once a month
And only write bars when they got a battle comin’ up
You gotta change your style ‘cause that shit ain’t enough
Prolly want to join TDE ‘cause it’s managed by a Punch
You don’t even battle your opponents, Fonz. Here’s a crash course
You don’t gotta diss other people when you don’t have more
In your last battle, you kept throwin’ shots at Surf like a bad sport
Why would we want to see Tsu and (suin’) the Landlord, he just had Cort’ (court)
You think the cliques you could join is based on your shots
Now you tryna be GunTitles to raise up your stock
Like you could learn from Tay how to pop
Typical Landlord, he think the key is bein’ placed under Roc (rock)
They say the way you aim is somethin’ you adapted as a youth
And you look like you always had your hand up in the school
When the teacher was askin’ for an answer that you knew
Like “Miss, Miss, Mi-” and that’s exactly how you shoot
See, I be piecin’ and cheesin’ but I’m from a different region
You said I’m too humble and quiet but there’s a reason
‘Cause of the way I am now, you prolly won’t believe it
So God the only one I talk to because he seen it
Ever since a kid I knew, to live I couldn’t fight fair
Thankful for the pistol, it was right there
Witnessin’ senseless killings it was type scared
You had a dollar and a dream, I had a nickel and a nightmare
Fonz, Foooonz, Fonz
He don’t do that
Keep punchin’
Yo
This for my homie [Ress?], he was at my first battle
Committed a prison offense
Then got put on a immigrant list ‘cause he ain’t have no citizenship
Got out then got deported, he ain’t even get a ride home
Did so much time he ended up in a different time zone
Fonz
I know what it’s like to cut stomachs in
A slice that’s so lung puncturin’ everytime you breathe you could see your blood bubblin’
Muscle like I been in the yard, my warmup is tools dumpin’
But I never did a stretch, maybe that’s why I pulled somethin’
Fonz
I’m from a country where activists turn to lost souls
The government is killin’ Sikhs so we don’t see a stronghold
They keep the doors closed
So my thinkin’ is always on go like fuck a Landlord, we don’t even got a place we could call home
I’m on that Jersey shit, that goin’ all out shit
Real Sikh, and I’m the problem that you want rounds wit’?
You supposed to put in work, but that’s wrong now bitch
But you can’t show up to work when you call out Sikh (sick)
Jersey