[Round: Geechi Gotti]
This n***a get to call the coin and shit, Smack
(No respect)
No respect, man
Y'all n***as acting different as fuck
Charron, Mike P, Nunn Nunn
All these white boys getting plates during Black History month (Talk, talk)
I mean it couldn't be him vs. Charron or him vs. Glueazy
Mike P and Frak couldn't make a match hot?
Caffeine, just 'cause this n***a play Call of Duty for y'all for a living
Don't mean you got to keep giving him Black Ops
We got, we got, we got
Geechi Gotti, versus...
Your bitch got fucked by a gang of battle rappers and you wanted to kill yourself
This n***a's life is full of drama
How you even feel comfortable having her as ya baby mama?
I mean for real, you didn't even want a paternity tеst?
My n***a, let's be honest
That could bе anybody kid
You should have immediately took her to see a doctor
Soon as she woulda dropped
I woulda had that baby by ASAP, like Rihanna
She still a toddler so I can understand the guilt
But I wouldn't be in no venues with Ryda until that man is killed
Imagine, imagine doe?
He want to raise his daughter on almond milk but can't
Because the brand is Silk, n***a
(Boy, I don't want to hear no white boy raps, n***a)
(You trash, I'mma walk off when you rap)
They tellin' your man to chill
They tellin' your man to chill
Where you wit', Mike? Somewhere still lookin' for Ryda (rider) like a hitchhike?
You the bitch type
Mad at every black n***a 'cause you know deep down inside that's your bitch type
First it was the Cigarillo bull
Yeah, first it was the Cigarillo bull then she switched pipes
Fucked a gang of your peers and now that's his wife
Is this right?
I had—, I heard she had a whole schedule of fuckin' battle rappers
Early in the morning she was gettin' full of that Yakman
By the middle of the day Ryda had her tailin' the whip gettin' hit right
Then my n***a Twork had her strapped in screaming "Madness" before Midnight
Is this right?
You gon' have to deal with this angle for your whole career whether you like it or not
That n***a was battling Danny Meyers in that second round
Boy really thought he was hot
Do you believe in a Parallel Universe?
(I do!)
When battle rappers had your bitch leg in the bow position
Your weird ass was still contemplating on tyin' the knot
Is he—, is he cryin' or not?
Is he cryin' or not?
How you and your bitch get beat by Ryda?
[Mike P: I won]
Oh you—, yo he said he won
You right, the judges did pick you
Yeah, the judges did pick you
I know that shit got to fuck with yo' soul
But since the judges did pick you, technically
Yo' bitch the only one that lost on the—, n***a
(I'm not playin')
Yo last name—, he won
Yo last name is Pulice
Yo last name is Pulice so I can understand why you cuffin' bitches
Plus you a lame, I really can see what she doin' witcha
But that n***a fucked ya bitch then rapped to you about fuckin' yo' bitch
That was the one time it was justified for the Pulice (police) to shoot a n***a
Ruger hit ya, Ruger—
Ruger hit ya, dazed and confused
Stars next to his head like a Uber picture
Lift a can, lift a can
Lift a can, lift a can
Lift a can, lift a can
Lift a can, I really shoot thangs
The shoulder strap on the K was a shoe string
If we ever seen Mike grippin' the long nose it was after the flu game
Fuck the bullshit
Fuck the bullshit, big facts
I was a Young Thug wit' a bright Future and a big strap
Get his wig clapped
This gun a (Gunna) be pushin' P's shit back (Oh my god)
I been that, ask around, I can demonstrate
Befo' I ever had a podcast
I was close range with the trey like, "N***a here's ya plate."
No Studio'n, I'll really plug Mike (mic) in the face
White boy, I plug Mike—
Yeah, every fuckin' bar man (Every fuckin' bar, what!?)
Forget your race, white boy
You can't come on my block
All that fuckin' mousse in your hair
All that fuckin' mousse in yo' hair
It's only right I let it buck in your top, n***a
You in—
(Giving me these weirdos, Smack)
You in love with a thot
When she asked you to be less demanding you tried
But the moment you put a ring on that hand that she was gripping' all that dick with
The man in you died
N***a, you'se a bitch!
N***a, you'se a bitch!
And we not equal
Mike, I never ever shot a gun...I shot people
The Glock lethal (Every fuckin' bar)
(Right, nobody ever thought of that shit)
I ain't never shot a gun
I shot people, the Glock lethal
Have his head missin'
Who would have fuckin' thought a gamer would be my next victim
His upper body on Caffeine but the leg's Twitch-ing
Dead kick him
Dead kick him
Dead kick him
Dead kick him, you really in a spot where you dyin' in
N***a, that should scare you
Pistol whip you 'til the clip fall out and I crack a (cracker) barrel
I shouldn't have to—
I shouldn't have to tell you
I shouldn't have to tell you
If I rap it I really done that
Fuck rap, if a n***a ever left Earth going against me he ain't come back
Fun fact: I really used to rob shit
I'm talkin' kick door, strong arms
I really does that
I mean literally, stick shit up for a living like thumbtacks
Where the guns at?
Where the guns at?
Where the guns at?
I let it rip on sight
The chopper was handheld, made me dump the clip on Mike (mic)
Yo—, the chopper was handheld, it made me dump the clip on Mike (mic)
Yo, Jerooz, remember when you battled Surf and he said the "AR Twork"?
I'ma take that but just advance a little bit
Like if I use this AR, Twork, I'd paint Michael and ya (Michelangelo) lil' bitch
You need to relax a little bit
I don't play with knives
N***a, we had guns
I literally seen a n***a die for his respect
And he ain't have none
Fuck—
N***a, the streets cold (Oh my god)
N***a, the streets cold
N***a, the streets cold
Fuck a jacket
Fuck a jacket
You need a burner
I tried school, it didn't work out
My first degree was murder
You ain't never heard of—
(Every fuckin' bar)
You never heard a word of respect
You only gon' get a shell from me
The only reason I won't kill you 'cause I don't feel like spending bail money
N***a, fuck yo' life
My pockets the only issue here
Sometimes it's better not to kill a n***a just to watch him live in fear
Get a—
Why don't y'all get a load of this n***a here
With the man bun and the bitch n***a beard
This n***a weird, the shit you gon' say in the battle
If you say it outside'll have you layin' in the streets
Plus the shit not even hot
The shit you say gon' be really weak
They only react to it 'cause they cannot believe I'ma let you say the shit to me
N***a, ask around
You seen how I did Lux
What you thought, n***a?
Gang bangin' is how I was taught, n***a
As long as the cops lookin' for me I pray I'll forever be a lost n***a
Boss n***a
Boss n***a
Smack, I charged y'all like 10K for three minutes
I don't even know how long I been rappin'
I'ma just call you a bitch 'til we finished
N***a, you'se a bitch
You'se a bitch
N***a, you'se a bitch
N***a, you'se a bitch
Your girlfriend—
Your girlfriend fucked battle rappers and she lied about it
You'se a bitch
That n***a Ryda told you he fucked your bitch then you cried about it
N***a, you'se a bitch
You play Call of Duty but you ain't never been in them wars
N***a, you'se a bitch
You so embarrassed to have her as your bitch you don't even bring her to events no more
N***a, you'sea bitch
And don't bring me none of these fuckin' kids, n***a!
This Crip—
And I'm walkin' off, I don't want to hear him rap
(You the GOAT, n***a!)
N***a
N***a
[Interlude: Smack]
Give it up for Geechi Gotti (SMACK!)
Hold it down, hold it down, hold it down
HOld it down
Mike P
Mike P, it's on you
(Damn)
(Fight back!)

[Round: Mike P]
(Hold it the fuck down!)
We ready or what?
(Hold it down, hold it down, hold it down)
(Let him rap)
Ayy (Let's go, Mike) This where the playin' field get leveled
And the bias-ness gets shut down
Unanimous, I'd prefer we'd of traded threes but it's up now
You ever west coast legend I've ever faced double-dumbed down
Y'all 'bout to peep the difference
Y'all got Geechi winning?
(N***a, yeah)
How? When I'm only good for one round
We go tonight, I don't know your price, I just know you light
If you try to get close to winning, you better overwrite
I saw you ball at Midnight Madness
Gotti ain't known to fight
Of course he let the Hawk burst
He look awkward trying to throw a strike
I'm sending you—
I'm sending you his soul tonight
Fo' tuckin'
Smoke somethin'
Don't move
They gon' scrape money up if Bay Lo' (below) budget
I flew to L.A. for the kill, brought no luggage
Shot Geechi in his house, on the couch
I felt inclined...so fuck it
Expose something
Expose something
Like your flows they sound basic
You ain't built off your skill
The fans ya foundation
Ward smoked your boots, twice
That bro's no wild statement
That's just Earth, after Goku died
It goes without saying (Saiyan)
You a regular ass rapper but the whole community back you up
You average, bruh
And minus your Let's Talk Battle Rap stats you suck
That 'real talk' title you claim cap as fuck
When they matched you up with the king of 'real talk', Calicoe packed you up
And that's just fucked
So stunt on me, this cat ain't you
Smack, you know the draw I got in these Caffeine rooms
My fight with Sikh, more views than you and Eric, that be true
Starbucks logo, Geechi, I got my hands on Caffeine too
I'm with—
I'm with no chit-chat
I don't address a bitch like Fresh&Fit
I body punch him 'til the whole rib crack
The real Gotti, this guinea will knock your whole shit back
Give you an early Champion nomination, for the most impact
I'm here to handle you
I'm here to handle you
If I had to pick a GOAT, bro, it can't be you
You are the king of debatables yet they act like you can't be bruised
Toy Story after toy story
Well, would he (Woody) have popped off if you gave your man some truth?
I mean if they ain't push you to infinity and beyond
That Buzz that you got wouldn't make it out of Andy's room
I go God-mode on him, ain't no might leave earth
Every Mike P verse is a white-T Surf
I'm the cheat code, heat go
(Y'all ain't reacting to nothing
Ain't reacting to a fuckin' thing
I got time since y'all ain't reacting)
I'm the cheat code
I'm the cheat code, heat go
If I see Champion in a Challenger, shoot the window
Glass shatter on the outside like pre-rolls
Ladies and gentlemen, he's smoked
Two sh—
Ladies and gentlemen, he's smoked
Two shots from a pair of these, you a parody
Talk about my woman, you ain't gon' embarrass me
I saw you create a name for DNA, well try that scam with me
I'm self-made, Geechi
You want to call me a "Gary", call me a "Gary V"
[?], problems then I'll pull up on pronto
Plain black-T with the buff from Johnny Bravo
Nine go, iron tucked for war, I'll shoot 'til the tiles move
Then fire through the door like Encanto
I'm a wild bro and you dead and shit
Shots low 'til the leg get hit
I'll have you upside down on the metal like white-boy kegs get hit
I'll feed your bitch to my pit
If she don't plead for her life she dead, that's it
I tell her "get naked"
"If you don't want to become one of my dog treats, beg and strip"
(That was hard)
(That was fire)
What he gon' do?
What he gon' do? Jack shit with this rap shit Geechi food
All these battlers do is kiss your ass
It's live we've been groomed to ignore half the time Geechi ass
That's why this scene is doomed
I mean when I was on the Volumes they had my name in graffiti on the wall
And now I can't even read the room
This day to day, give Bae the blade but it ain't a game
Ock, I still pull something and spin off
Any day with Bae, stop
And I ain't Caffeine 'cause they afraid, watch
Go over the time, bitch
I will stop your round with a Flavor Flav clock!
So let's wrap this up, you can't touch my substance or punching
But here's some substance
The fact you won the belt fuckin' disgusting
You took like five clear Ls
That shit to me is insane
But you the most overrated battler in the history of the game
[Outro: Mike P]
Fuckin' time, man
Fuck out of here