[Round 1: Swamp]
I said bitch I’m the same n***a in real life that I am on the internet
Now first off, writin’ for me was easy as hell, ain’t it? I bet it was
Do you know how hard it is writin’ for a lil’ muthafucka like you in 2 weeks, at the same time sellin’ drugs?
I’m so locked in on writin’ for this battle, I done missed two meetings wit’ a better plug
The fiends catchin’ me slippin’ without my scale, I’m accidentally blessin’ ‘em wit’ extra crumbs
But fuck all that
Your squad, your family, them Crips, I hope they all around you
This .38 in my pocket, I won’t stall to find you
You actually won the last tournament, and that’s the same reason this revolve around (revolvеr 'round) you
You bout to see the light
It’s gon’ be awfully bright
Just another littlе muthafucka wit’ a lotta mouth: Charleston White
I know what the fuck y’all thinkin’, I don’t stand a chance in this fuckin’ battle
They keep askin’ me, “How you plan on meetin’ Nitty upstairs?”
Bring that shit down to one story once I up the ladder
Don’t talk me to death about no gang shit, grown man is what we reppin’
If you cross that line then we steppin’
I been in Cali wit’ a bunch of Crips; had a baby tucked in the cut of that C-section
I be comfortable outta town, don’t get hit wit’ a drum
None of my n***as ever become homesick, we don’t miss where we from
I’m the typa n***a
I’m the n***a that’s gon’ get you the fuck up outta here, yea n***a gon’ look at me
You coont noont, so I understand whatchu mean by you “pushin P”
If it wasn’t for this tournament, n***a this battle right here wouldn’t be
So it’s fuck Rum, this Remy Ma: Chrome 23
I’m finna get buddy the fuck up outta here, I know y’all don’t believe the shit
It’s gon’ take y’all a minute to sit back, watch, and see the shit
This AK hold a hunnid rounds, but I broke him off 75 like when him and Geechi split
The only thing this n***a do is throw up C’s, every fuckin’ battle, C day
N***a if I call you on September the 10th, you gon’ be mad if I tell you Happy Bday?
You think I give a fuck about yo’ gang ties? Shit no
That won’t stop me from leavin’ all of yo’ shit swole
I won’t respect yo’ crippin’ ‘til you can park in the front of Walmart and don’t get towed
You finna be dearly departed, n***a
You shouldn’t’ve started, n***a
It begin when a C got threw up, baow, then it drew up and turn a Insane to a retarded n***a
A bunch of punches and they see you wearin’ your flag
And automatically believe you when you say you airin’ your mag
The alien done fucked around and got the big head, not knowin’ deep down inside he just a regular ol’ American Dad
Rap you muthafucka
Let’s go n***a
[Round 1: Rum Nitty]
Shoutout [Random Media clothing?], hold this for me

YAAAAHH
You finna lose your life and you can’t stop it
Prolly was on the way here wit’ it all up on his conscience
Flyin’ thinkin’ ‘bout it, havin’ thoughts of death on the plane way (weigh) too much
Now this is finally a (find Aaliyah) body
A real homi’, ain’t it
You had problems wit’ QP? Not me gangsta
I draw somethin’ and mark Paige (page) out, I am not Qleen (clean) Paper
Straight up, I hope you ready though, fam’
I always empty out if I let a pole blam
I let it ring ‘til I hear a click everytime, like Mr. Telephone Man
I could tell he won’t last
I’m finna kill him
I ain’t the last couple o’ goons (lagoons) he had to see (sea), I’m a Martian, Swamp (marsh and swamp), it’s a difference
Listen, I’ll really creep
He said he can tell where a n***a at in his house by the noise the floor make, that shit was heat
I’ll throw your body where it can’t be found, splashin’ sound, I heard a different creak (creek)
I leave you laid out in the street
Covered up, this bitch deceased
In other words, for Paige (page) it’s a sheet
This bitch elite, I’ll snuff the homie
Stomp you out, jumpin’ on you
If one stitch can’t fix the split made from a pair of Timbs, they gon’ have to double-sew you
Fuck a burner, I’ll grab a atch, I’ll grab a hatchet or a axe in this bitch
You might want to back up, Paige (backup page) I’ll start hackin’ yo’ shit
Nah, I’ll crack you wit’ the back of the stick
If I say I’ll smack you so hard the machine’ll leave a print, Paige (page), it was facts (fax) that I said
Get clipped, you get too close and the chrome stretchin’ you
They gon’ be cleanin’ out your wounds wit’ saline, that saltwater; Swamp got a dose of his own medicine
Sever shit, let a sharp object murk him
A rip’ll (ripple) go down the middle of Swamp, it look like the Loch Ness lurkin’
Or I let off that burner
Show up to where you stay and give you one to the liver, Paige (deliver page), like a process server
I’m for certain, against Gotti you got killed n***a
We all seen Bay versus Swamp, it was a clear difference
Real n***a, I’on know how he work
But I’m the type go to the club, get a lap dance on the house: free Twork (twerk)
I thought you was street first, I feel played
Believin’ them same stories about that one time you posted up; I thought you was real, Paige (page)
I still blaze
Squeeze it and leave him
But you’se a bitch from South Carolina, you should understand when I’m speakin’ in Geechie (Geechi)
Believe me
[Round 2: Swamp]
I said we all know you Rum muthafuckin’ Nitty, and in this ring you can do whatever the fuck you like
‘Til I up a pipe
They say the Alien sittin’ on bars like E.T. ridin’
That’s ‘til we be slidin’ and shoot his dumb ass off of the fuckin’ bike
N***a I be shootin’ rifles
Look at ‘em, dude is spiteful
They say Swamp don’t even need bars: unicyc-
N***a you got a gun on you, muthafucka? You better fuckin’ pull it
They be amazed at all them fuckin’ punches, I won’t be amazed ‘til I see you punch a fuckin’ bullet
I heard about you workin’ at Walmart, shit me too
So many bitches in there I wonder if I can go back and they’ll rehire a n***a
I used to work in the automotive department, I damn sho’ can teach you how to retire a n***a
I’m talkin’ ‘bout change the oil and all, on the spot
I got fired for usin’ my discount card while on the clock
So fuck Walmart, fuck them prices, n***a yo’ eyes finna roll back
These biscuits and these fuckin’ toys goin’ on layaway, n***a hold dat
You can get punched, slapped, or even blazed wit’ the chrome
He tried to wrestle, ‘til he got cut, now it’s a Razor Ramon (Rum on)
Everytime they give you a n***a that’s good in everything, those missions: failed it
N***a if you cross me, you gettin’ put on a cross: nailed it
You gettin’ put on a cross: nai- I say uh, my fault
If you ge- you gettin’ put on a cross: nailed it
I will punch Rum ‘til his eyes close shut: swellin’
Then baby boy watchin’ me in the room wit’ his mom: Melvin
N***a you out here cappin’ like you in the streets for real, boy this shit is not for play play
I knew you was lyin’ about sellin’ dope the minute I seen you wit’ them fake J’s
You got me-
I said I knew you was lyin’ about se- ughh fuck
I knew you was lyin’ about sellin’ dope the minute I seen- the min-
Goddamnit
I knew you was lyin’, I knew you was lyin’ ab- fuck
[Smack White]
You got it, you got it, you got it

[Swamp]
The difference between me and these other n***as: I’m not scared of ya
I took these last two weeks wit’ everything I had to prepare for ya
So this about to be a classical movie: Alien vs. Predator
What the fuck you gon’ talk to me about besides battle rap? You damn sho’ can’t tell me a damn thing about the struggle
I went to New York, met up wit’ Ebony Randolph, don’t tell me I Can’t Knock The Hustle
The Gun Bar King better have a fuckin’ weapon on his waist
Before I give him a thousand bucks you know, bless him wit’ a K
Or cut him from cheek to cheek, and even she won’t be able to fix the new expression (Nu Expression) on your face
Y’all ain’t notice I ain’t said a damn thing about no fuckin’ “Nit’” to make the bars hit; name flips never was hard
Plus you don’t gotta flip Rum, everything you got here, you could sell, it all depends on how you set up the bar
You got too many nicknames, muthafucka, and that’s the main thing I ain’t feelin’ about him
Will I kill his ass? Prolly
That’s why the Chrome gon’ keep clickin’ on Webb (web) like I’m internet browsin’
Rap, n***a

[Round 2: Rum Nitty]
Aaaaaayy
Ayy, ayy, ayy
I’m finna empty out this muthafuckin’ pole
And when the shell hit, you wish you woulda played Melvin
And played yo’ muthafuckin’ role
You gave me a n***a named Shaun Paige, oh y’all gon’ make me spazz out
This the prime example of when a n***a take a bad route
You’ll prolly faint if I bring a strap out
Before I can up the big (Bigg) K and Boom, you’ll see Paige just (pages) passed out
I’m mad now, you my n***a but on the stage, I can’t stand you
You bout to leave this bitch broke and fly back mad, too
I might scrap you
Throw a right-left, and a right back at you
*Ha ha ha*, stick and move on Swamp, like a kayak paddle
I had to
No exaggeration, but fam won’t make it
This is clearly over, Paige (page): it’s laminated
My right hand, I raise it, fuck I gotta cap for?
I’ll really roll up and smoke some’, and that’s on the Bible, Paige (page), like I’m Jakkboy
That part, n***as know they dyin’
Get laid the fuck out, I unload eight times
His leg twitch, so they give you a “is he dead kick”
To see if you okay, Shaun (ol’ K-Shine)
Don’t get outta line ‘cause who ever try get stretched
The clip longer than the list- the c- the clip longer than the list on a prescription commercial side effect
Pull up to your hometown
The clip longer than the list on a c- p- prescription commercial side effect
Pull up to your hometown, where you residin’ at
Shootin’ my shots in the middle of Marion (marryin’), like I object
Fire TECs
I’ll rob a n***a blind, no jokin’
Stick Paige (page) up at the front do’, y’all remember that five-day notice?
Hand it over, or the ice he got on, I’ll take it
The necklace, the bracelet
I strong-arm the Rollie (Rolly) and the ropes, like Gervonta Davis
Gang shit, ruger dumpin’
Put it square on his roof then air out the room
Since y’all think me and Swamp cool or (cooler) somethin’
Dude be frontin’
This fo’ sho’ a L
You ain’t dope for real
I’ll get a dummy rocked, like bread, soap, and Orajel
You know the drill
I be focused when it’s time for me to rap
I keep intact
Recite all my lines and bring ‘em back
To the point I’m locked in, like a Chinese finger trap
Nina clap, ya homie’ll get his brains blew
End his life
And Ima spray Paige (page) wit’ the K too (K2), like prison spice
Bitch goodnight
Ima split his shit
You gon’ see the Alien sneakin’ (sneak in) this country n***a like a immigrant
Black his eye, tint his shit, 10 percent
For 100k, we gon’ turn these fans into witnesses
On the set

[Round 3: Swamp]
I said the minute I found out I had you next
I sat, plotted, and thought out shit
Really ain’t thought ‘bout shit
Then it started to dawn on me and get Real
I realized then I prolly should’ve called out sick (Sikh)
But my heart started fillin’ wit’ fuckin’ rage
Then I realized where the fuck I come from
I defeated the odds the minute I stepped foot on this fuckin’ stage
My pen to the pad like okay, this shit gettin’ fun now
Before I knew it, I had one round
Molasses, sugarcane… it’s all a buncha sweet shit when you start to break Rum down
I know that you a fuckin’ professional, but bitch I’m a pro too
I know you prolly don’t believe me, but I’m ‘bout to show you
I ain’t never ran from shit, and the main reason is ‘cause I really ain’t have nobody to go to
Listen you little black ahh piece-a shit
You better watch how you talk to me
Before I fuck around and spark the heat
My guns just like you: came from overseas (over C’s) but I just so happened to get ‘em shipped across the street
This n***a bitch-made, on God he timid
Yo’ grave, I’m finna toss you in it
EFB full of manure, we liked y’all better when it was Kahlua: when Geechi and Rum came wit’ Coffee in it
I said Summer Madness versus Reed, you was lookin’ like a bad bitch
I’m talkin’ Diamond when she pose
The reason I said Diamond’s ‘cause when that bitch came out, everybody had Dollaz on the poll (pole)
That shit was lookin’ like Joe Jackson and little Mike
I thought you was losin’ your skills for real, and your skills got weak
N***a you went light, was the favorite and still got beat
I thought it might’ve been-
Or maybe a battle rap boo is the reason that you fall off
Ace Hood: you was on Hustle Hard, then we watched you fall off
N***a I’m in rare form
A n***a’ll get slapped if they stare hard
The deuce-deuce bullet right here in his ear, that shit look the size of a AirPod
I will punch you until ya nose bleed: cheap tickets
If the Crip even try and act unstable, he gon’ see (sea) biscuits
If you call my fuckin’ name, I gotta see ya
I love my ratchets, but the .38 so Special, I let my momma meet her
The shotgun, they losin’ son: get him a orphanage
The shells spread two feet apart, like mornin’ piss
If you was doubtin’ me, shut the fuck up
You waitin’ on my downfall, then tough luck
Y’all thought I was gon’ come in here and try punchin’ (punch and) Rum
I took shots, and all of y’all got me fucked up
The hole big as a Moon Pie
I’m a Crip too, I [?] guys
Fuck Rum, I’ll let corn lick a (liquor) shot like moonshine
Rap

[Round 3: Rum Nitty]
Ayy

[Swamp]
Go my n***a

[Rum Nitty]
Ayy
Aaaaayy
Ayy, don’t front, Paige (page)
This gon’ make you real famous
But you better take it serious, ‘cause you may get killed playin’
Raise the steel, aim it
One from the chopper droppin’ (drop in) Swamp: it look like a Navy SEAL trainin’
Ayy, it’s real dangerous if you playin’ up here
Right hook, he ain’t gon’ make it up here
His legs wobbly; I’ll fold Paige (page) up under a table somewhere
‘Cause when the leg wobbly, you gotta fold a page up under the-
Cuz from the last match still missin’, they searchin’ for that n***a in a few states
I put Real Name on a milk carton, like I was livin’ wit’ a roommate
Dude lame
I can’t stand the way you rap shit
“I let off the K and get somebody (some body) sprayed”
I hate that accent (Axe scent)
Facts is, that sound is what got you poppin’, and that’s fasho fasho
But yo’ foundation was too weak (two-week), notice how that shit don’t work no mo’?
I know you know
They won’t be able to open yo’ casket if you get bombed on
That shit all gone
They gon’ have to keep that Bad Boy closed (clothes) for Shaun, John (Sean John)
That’s what I’m on
Your chances is one in a million if you tryna win
No back and forth, so before Paige (page) let a (letter) written out, tell him try again
I am him
War vet
More TECs
Shoot close range, point blank, like I ain’t even score yet
Send that check, then this bitch draws (drawers) down right after cash paid
Wherever this coont noont came from, they ‘bout to escort you back, Paige (Backpage)
Strap raise
I'ma need y’all to play this back, it’s important
Y’all gon’ hear somethin’ different every time you listen, like Yanny and Laurel
I don’t have to be cordial
I bring sticks out and pull (in pool), like a mask wit’ a snorkel
I warned you
I lift the tool and burst
Shoot Paige (page) wit’ the can, like I ain’t got shit to do at work
Get alert, get in tune
I’ll beat the shit outchu
And try to stomp a bone out wit’ the kicks, like Amiri shoes
This n***a through
This ain’t what they want
We turn n***as into opp packs
I see weed (seaweed) when I look at Swamp
No comp’, I up that chop’
No comp’, I up- n***a fuck that clock
You must get sho-

What
What

Ayy, you must get shot
This is stick talk
If I shoot a piece off Paige (page), it ain’t a spitball
Bitch lost
And you can’t keep it real yourself
N***a suicide or I do the j-