[Round 1: Rum Nitty]
You finna get murked, I don't play
Leave you laid out, then I swerve out the way
If he don’t die, I grab the mil', come back and finish the round, like Verb yesterday
Off the rip
Believe he's dyin’
A clean sweep, 3 peat, I got the cheat sheet rhymin'
They say, "The Alien sittin' on bars like E.T. ridin'"
We all know your death is comin', you ready brother?
I done brought everything from the .44 down to the .38; breast reduction
I'm one of Smack's shooters, you'll get stretched for nothin’
And I get rid of anybody he wants (once) removed, like a second cousin
Y’all done went and got me another easy (Eazy) name; Himothy
Knowin' I keep heat in a sticky situation; humidity
He was tryin’ to recite some of that lyin' ass shit to me
But I ain't like one part of that sentence; clemency
Buck 50, same on both sides; symmetry
Pick a spot to lift to let the tourist go on the Wess (west); Venice Beach
I rarely ever forget my rounds, they stick with me
But an interrogation room, I had B Magic memory
I've been elite, and I’m Denzel smooth
Big shells shoot
But on that note, it should be Sikh (sick) for this card like "Get well soon"
Release some toxic shit in the air, we can inhale too
See I can follow Wess (West) with a K or I can Kim (chem) trail you
Bust a move
You can't keep me out my zone
Is he slow?
I'll bring out the chrome
That'a (data) make him clear his cash (cache) and run fast, if he ever cleaned out ya phone
Watch me bust a dome
Clap him, put an end to Wess (West) World, I'm in a league of my own
Muthafucka you'se a coward, I'll go from a hundred to a thousand
I am nice, I don't say shit in a kind way (Conway) cause once a n***a on Wess side, gonna (Westside Gunn-a) do about it?
I don't play about that
Try me, you'll catch one, to the face about that
Cause I just put a drum on a new Kel-TEC and we can bang out Wess
You'll get stretched
This n***a think he hot
You better bring that speaker and a million other props
That shit get on my nerves, not a little, but a lot
I mean, sometimes, don't Wess annoy you (Wesson oil) when you cookin'?
Now he really gettin' popped
He tried to run off
Seen the pistol and got so scared
If this go left, you (U-) turn around and see a light goin' right after ya head Wess (west)
Basically, you ain't goin' nowhere
I ain't the n***a you wanna see regardless, it won't be easy patna
You gon' need help, you'll die before you get a round (around) by yourself; Steven Hawkin
Leave the market
N***a just be tryin' to stand out, I see an easy target
Nina sparkin'
The TEC contestin', tryin' to find where the GS are in
They be pissed to have me on they hands, see how I ease the bar in?
Large clip, move in
Give you half on the spot, show you what gettin' your shit split apart meant (apartment), you ain't owing shit
We was really sellin' sniff a lot
Couldn't thinkin' on battle bars when I was in the spot
I only had bricks on my mind, I literally had a mental block
Aye, it was either smoke or sell dope
Get high or (higher) pitch, and I chose to whip the pot
N***a stop
I'm on fire in this bitch
Nah, I came on the stick
N***as got it twisted, try and you'll get clipped
When you get your wig blew out, it's permanent
Make Jerry (jheri) curl up and die (dye) and that's a line (salon) you won't forget
Bitch
He 'bout to be deceased
Right over his head when I squeeze the piece
His muscles retract
Make Jerry (jheri) curl up with a cap like Eazy E
On me
I hit his head then he outstretched
Soon as you got your flight information, we knew you was gettin' checked in the south, Wess (Southwest)
[Round 1: Jerry Wess]
I said the URL runnin' out of battles!
All these rematches they up to somethin' bro
Roc and Clips battled twice
I bet you we goin' to see 3, you better act like you fuckin' know
I thought we was Family Guy, but this is who I face again?
N***as whole round is American Dad, I gotta wig on the Alien
I'll drop him on the kitchen flo', let a hollow off, I'm talkin' burn off of the top; Molotov
You can't beat Rum, it's Rum! N***a got hella fans
They say n***as can't stop that gas, well Jerry can
AMG mode too easy, n***a stop it
This a problem
Malcolm X, a n***a can die if I get in that pocket
You always throw a C in a n***a face, but don't realize what you in fo'
Now that karma a bullet to the face, now everybody can see (C) in yours
Can't be Crippin', then pray when the ops got you
A Glock air
You know the real reason he died? God did- not care
Take his chick to the beach, drown her, gotta be the worst decision
By the water, led her (letter) to the Wave, I'm writin' Surf in prison
I'll shoot his bitch then he next
Know what I'm shootin' must be proper
I'll show this bitch that he next