[Round 1: Rum Nitty]
Ayy, this .40 a lighter
It’s gon’ be a funeral service: totally quiet
Before they put him in the dirt first, it’s gon’ sound like a Twork verse… moment of silence
Bitch you done done
We got Rum muthafuckin’ Nitty vers’ Lance, a.k.a. Nunn Nunn
Off the rip, believe he dyin’
Clean sweep, three-peat, I got the cheat sheet rhymin’
They say the Alien be sittin’ on bars, like E.T. ridin’
Just one round and nothin’ else for this bum
You gotta think, if I’m top rank, why would I give a second to Nunn (none)
Weapon’ll dump, stick is out
Lеt it off, don’t even stick around
But in the bag, thе way Nunn (none) left, soon as I emptied out
Bitch get out
You finna get killed this evenin’
All I need for you is to give a reason
The steel, I squeeze it
Put it right up top by yo’ (bio) shit, soon as you try to click, you gon’ find out we’re delinquent (where the link went)
Killer season
You bitch made
I swing and your chin break
You gon’ line it up wit’ who? You wouldn’t even attempt (a temp) fade
Big trays
You gon’ see the heat blast
When he pass, they gon’ slide on the repass
I ain’t even pay ‘em to kill yo’ weak ass
On the strength of me, they gon’ put in work anywhere… for free, Lance (freelance)
He trash
I’m finna do a faggot dirty
Get low, ‘bout to clap the .30
Squat, push up, jump out: that’s a burpee
‘Matic burstin’
Accurate, perfect
The bucks he caught in (cotton) his head: it’s taxidermy
We be thirsty
N***a fuck yo’ battle rap group and n***a fuck yo’ life
Cuz the type that’ll really chuck ‘em, right?
I mean we scrap, so don’t give no feedback (feed back), or I’ma give Hunger strikes
Nothin’ nice
You finna get smoked, y’all think this n***a lit, bro?
Whole career a fuckin’ joke, even spell his name wit’ a N-U-N though (innuendo)
Big fo’s
I get to shootin’ ‘til you hear that sound when it empty, fam'
*Click, click* it’s like I’m this n***a fan
I see Nunn Nunn, I click; I’m a simple man
[?] in the van
We really strapped for war
I’ll clap the boy
You bring yo’ bitch witchu on stage too (2), Nunn, I’ll give her ass a 4 (ASA IV)
That was hard
Somethin’ you’ll prolly get later
Inf’ laser
I slide up and point if I get the Temptation
Won’t take long, just sit patient
I’m finna drop Nunn (none) in no time, like a bench player
Shit crazy
If I hear you the man in yo’ town, we in yo’ crib like, “Where the money?”
Ransackin’ yo’ house
Tell the truth or it’s about to go down
Last try, Lance lied (Landslide) and caught a Calicoe round
Tool shoot
Point blank, moonroof
They say, “Finish him”, I’m fin’ to
So the bullets that go in you, end you (N-U-N-U): that’s Nunu
Remove dude
Wilson, North Carolina where this n***a stay
Liftin’ Ks
He not there, we gon’ slide a different day
Goin’ back to Wilson, like the NBA
This n***a fake
I gotta get rid of another problem
Blade cut him properly
You’ll see his buck 50 split: that’s Rum and Gotti
Who wanna try me?
You gon’ get yo’ ass kicked
They gon’ say you lost on the internet, fans quit
They might demote him (the modem), I’m not the one he should be on BANNED with (bandwidth)
Strap lift
You want war, try me
Y’all think he’ll win if the boy fight me?
Stomp him out: give Nunn Chucks (num-chuks), and that’s more likely (like Lee)
Grimy
You can’t keep it real yourself
N***a suicide or I do the job, you decide
[Round 1: Nunn Nunn]
I said I ain’t wit’ the flexin’ or the disrespectin’
It’s only one round, you can’t give a second- bitch you shouldn’t’ve gave Nunn a second
Let’s get it started
I ain’t here to burst your bubble
Ayy, what you say, you gon’ make Hunger strike?-
Now your fam’ in (famine) trouble
Let’s get it started
I smoke way too much to let this hash out
You’ll get picked off by the coroner (corner) you take a bad route
They gave me a contract for the star player, I brought the MACs (max) out
Since I done had too much of Rum, I’m ‘bout to black out (blackout)
I’m from the bottom
When the drama poppin’, we knockin’
Soon as the pin droppin’
‘Cause the perks (Percs) to gettin’ the Addy, you gotta peel (pill) problems
I will drop him
Before a bitch actually beat me
You see me smokin’ the hoes (smoke in a hose) like Roach in the back of Pinky’s
Be [?] to greet me
You ain’t robbin’ Nunn (none)
‘Cause my job: huntin’, like I ain’t got one
Hold up
Your do’ up, your [?] firin’
One loud noise’ll stop all your bread risin’
Hope you left cryin’
Broke, in debt, tryin’
‘Til you assed out in the street, like Rex fightin’
When he writin’, it’s punch after punch, that’s what he on
I learned all that punchin’ will lead to a death from King Von
This a tattletale that’ll tell that we been on
For that, I got a Midnight Madness tat: the double M drawn
Y’all gon’ say Rum and Geech’ the GOATs, heh
They ain’t cold as me
And y’all should be missin’ teeth for hypin’ ‘em like he Royalty
Oh, this is old to me
I’m out for Blood, nah I ain’t gang
But we might really be ops, ‘cause (cuz) this shot Insane
I can tell you frail and a fuckin’ lame
For three minutes, I’ma yell (Yale) vers’ Cornell, like a Ivy League game
It’s mapped out, please believe
Too late to flag staff (Flagstaff) or make a scene
If you strapped too, son (Tucson), this Desert’ll squeeze
You won’t make it outta Phoenix, if I make a mess of (Mesa) AZ
Is you crazy
Ayy
Yeah, I punch too sometimes
Ayy, ayyyy

I lift up one .9 like I’m fuckin’ up a perfect score
I ruin everything you workin’ for
Should I rob him, kill him? What hurts more?
No one’s rich in a casket when the dirt pour (poor)
Ayoooo
I said what in the punchity-punch is wrong witcho stupid ass
It’ll take one big counterpunch to do you Superbad
I open his cerebellum, let his wig flap
And since you like 5’5” (55), I give this Crip MACs
Y’all got me fucked up
Said “Nunn can’t rap wit’ Rum”, until he punch drunk
Get your head out the clouds, ain’t no right side to this silver linin’ you up
They gave a Nunn (nun) a shot at whoo! Am I backslidin’ or what?
I don’t know if you deaf to death, or think it won’t happen
But you’ll see what I’m sayin’ when R.I.P. on a shirt: your clothes (closed) caption
Is you actively usin’ or maneuverin’ packs?
I give a fuck if you shootin’ or scrap
I’m a dermatologist: if it get under my skin, I got a solution for that
On my soul
You want this fire to stop? Drop it and roll
This’ll go from Kings vs. Queens: Smack and (smackin’) these hoes
To havin’ to iron every-
I punch too
I punch too

It’ll go from Kings vs. Queens: Smack and (smackin’) these hoes
To havin’ to iron everything out because I never fold
I ain’t st- st- stutter
You get whipped smooth as butter
The morgue’ll lay me on a slab before I’m cookie cutter
I get the drop, then it’s what you got, I know you heard us
I need everything, from the weed to the whitest white, like Anderson Burrus
This is murderous
All this punchlinin’ ‘bout a bitch
I put my fist in your wife pussy, punchlinin’ up out a bitch
You prolly burn when you piss, you got a STD and you stressed out
Moral of the story is: if it’s any bitch toppin’ (Top and) Nitty, get yourself checked out
I feel like Lloyd Banks: droppin’ a punchline king
Ayy, why you claim that crown?
I don’t care what gang you 'round
When they booked me and you, I told Terrance Pew, “All I see, P (ICP), is a Insane Clown”
A fuckin’ rat what he gotta be
Honestly
Type to be at the precinct, holdin’ the line up like he playin’ the lottery
And honestly, they ain’t gon’ catch this next bar, but I bet the South goin’ dumb
‘Cause we don’t fuck wit’ Rum, we be off that water, we like to stomp hoes (stump hole) where I’m from
It’s Nunn, man

Thank you, bro
Thank you