[Round 1: Danny Myers]
Aye it's true, my daughter's a stripper
When I found that shit out, it was soul stinging
And then it hit me, she just like her daddy, we both pole swingin'!
What you ‘bout 6’4", 6’5"?
I don’t give a fuck, I don’t slack on writin’
Y’all finna see me beat the skin off a giant; Attack On Titan
The MAC gone strike him
You got the reach, but I ain’t fightin’ with yo’ fake ass
I keep a beam, Suge a Ray’ll (Sugar Ray) give me the title in any weight class
The K blast, I’ll send him to Heaven when the thing blam
Even as an angel, this n***a still got me in the wingspan
This could get obscene fam'
Wе’ll stomp yo’ ass out, 'til his brain open
If he try to run, we’ll grab him by his nеcklace, and chain smoke him I’m from the projects, I make Snowfall, since a kid I formed a team to control the streets
You bump a n***a like “Don’t get close to me”
If I bump a n***a it's to show him the potency of the cocoa leaf is exactly what it’s supposed to be
Who holdin’ P’s?
I get a Tip on the Dro, then we blowin’ heat
You know it’s a hit they ain’t even get a chance to show the lean ('Shoulder Lean')
My flow esteemed
I thought Jersey n***as showed comradery
When we first saw you, you showed potential, then you started choking sloppily
Never made it to Arsonal and Surf status, shit remind me of Monopoly
“A Gatekeeper” has no chance to land on the property
Obviously he don’t got the crew that he think he got
Had this bitch laid in the hospital when he receive a shot
It’s his own mob waiting outside, he don’t see the plot
Y’all not a real family, and they gone kill this Big Pussy soon as he leave the doc (dock)
My Glock sing in Soprano, bitch I called you out early
When this make a Double Impact, it’s gone be Murda talk...all throughout Jersey
Dirty, I could hit him with the chop ‘til it lock but(t)
I turn it around and smack him in the jaw 'til it clot blood
Then I stopped to think about the fans that was tweeting me, my luck
They right, this n***a Shotgun fucked my stock up
You gone stop what?
Twork, O-Red, Arsonal, I’m killing n***as from them Jersey streets
Nostalgia, I’m 41 years old watching my 30 streak
Fat n***a journey peaked, Big T working out with my man Bizarre
You lost all that weight riding bikes and you still can’t handle bars?
Let’s switch gears, welcome to this land of ours
We got Semi’s, but my tool a fully
Rockstar games been showed me how to school a Bully
Y’all look foolish to me, ain’t nothing worse than enablers
Sometimes being the favorite doesn’t work in your favor
Ya verses are catered, you got the Brotherhood to lend you a pen
All you gotta do is not choke, and they give you the win
Y'all better listen again
My style compared to his, his shit is simple
They lower the bar for you but wanna keep me in limbo?
I need info
What ya life like? Fuck it I’ma do it first?
When an arsenal (Arsonal) said it didn’t know a Shotgun, I started believing in a Parallel Universe
Ruger work, the canon squeeze, n***a stop playing with me
Y’all seen The Crow, I’ll ring down a Shotgun like Brandon Lee
You a fan of me, I’m that n***a the “Who’s Who” choose
Yeah ya YouTube views grew, the leader of the new school crew, you?
Nah, you played out like Fat Albert, FUBU, troop suits, kangaroo shoes
My gang of goons shoot, screw loose ‘til the sun shine through ya moon roof
It’s a lose lose
Y’all confuse true lyricism with this dudes moves
No one convinced him, he ain’t got no quotes in his system
You can tap pockets, but when it comes to flow you can never go into this one
I’m going the distance, his face is miserable
This cadence giving you visual proof his fate is sealable (Syllable)
Please lame, refrain from hollering ya steet gang
N***as always talkin' bout they cold until the piece flame
You bumped when I wasn’t looking, knocked me out the freeze frame
You dunked on me in that Nitty battle...basketball is a team game
The king reigns, and you on the ground with this shit
This wack MC got another two rounds of this shit
Yikes!
[Round 2: Danny Myers]
The Brotherhood...a group of bitch ass n***as, sworn to secrecy, but still want their clout higher
They made a pact to give a bunch of reaction to shit that don’t even sound fire
They control narratives to keep me at a level so y’all can doubt Myers
And they never publicly give any credit to any outsiders
Right now!
Tay Roc watching this battle like, “Pipe down”
While he got on Shotgun Suge’s T-shirt as a night gown
This might sound funny to y’all but I ain’t laughing
I don’t know how you get in that group, and I ain’t askin'
“Suge” sound sweet as hell, fronting like he so hard
Tried to cover it by putting a “Shotgun” in the front, they thought the same thing with Omar
I’ll Wire ya shit, Space Jam dunk, you was on yo’ knees with yo’ weird ass
When Twork leaped past you, that symbolized y’all career path
This a clear bag, that’s a Belly reference for the homie gift
Throwing petroleum jelly over tightly sealed packages of opiates
The bitch Soviet taking off her dress to the store it by her fallopian
Fire TECs at yo’ projects the complex is Napoleon
Find a Pyrex to throw me in, then hit it with the Ginobili spin
The one with all the ki’s (keys) in ya building I’m the custodian
Ain’t no flow to him, he’s 30% headshots, 70% movie references
Look at you
Why the fuck do we need Netflix when we can listen to a Suge battle?
I should slap you
It’s always how ya pole gone blow, and you sold mo’ dope
How you this tall, at the height of your career, and still ain’t showed no growth
I’m in Dojo mode, here to give this man some advice
How come you never battled the Wolf? Y’all was planning it right?
Do you believe in a Parallel Universe?
(I do)
He said “Suge hung the white boy from a balcony”, damn it was nice
But in reality, this n***a Suge never ran into Ice
What's ya stamina like? The panicking type, damage ya sight
Left hand or the right, Anakin slice, his whole body’ll be still, Mannequin life
Your chances are slight, I raised the stage too high
Yeah Shotgun took shots, but your range is what we gauge you by
You never said nothing smart, I’m here to rap out ya fuckin’ heart
Why would they give a Shotgun to Myers, when all I needed was something Sharp
Rip you the fuck apart
Why the long face? It’s a Scream mask
Get ya spleen stabbed
Guillotine slash when I clash with you
He back into, a sawed off pump and blow his back in two
You got Shaq with you?
Big Diesel convinced he could rap?
Just like that n***a free throws, you could miss me with that
Plenty of facts, all them jokes ain’t gone get it, I bang on n***as
All this truth got Jimmy extra tight like Caine on Menace
I’ll lean a n***a, listen Suge, you got to know ya worth
You built a lane for Bigg Hann, Brooklyn Hanz, Rosenberg
Swave Sevah, Ill Will, but when you put me in the mix
I’m a different breed and I’ll dog a bully in the Pit'
Look at him he's sick, I get witchu, big pistol
His heart monitor up and down, sending his family mixed signals
I chew rappers and spit gristle
I fix issues, and you on the ground with this shit
This wack MC got a whole ‘nother round of this shit
Yikes!
[Round 3: Danny Myers]
Aye, I been here 10 years...they just now giving props to Danny
Nas a legend, and it took 20 years before he got a Grammy
I had to understand something, this shit is more than just rappin’ dope
Lyricist don’t receive status when they don’t abide by the status quo
Your bars?
Factual, gats‘ll blow, crack and snow, whole lotta action quotes, I have to interrupt ya
Yo’ style is graffiti, yeah it’s art, but it brings down the value of the structure
You leading the youth to destruction
You one of them fake big homies that often concern us
This a precautionary tale to provoke thought into learners
Do you believe in a Parallel Universe?
I do
He was too young to feel the energy when they tossed him the burner
They put a battery in his back to kill a man, then the prosecutor charged him for murder
Sawed off to ya sternum
My east coast OG showed us how to bust Magnums
Schooled us on how to roll up and smoke with you n***as, he got his Dutch Masters
Trust passed us, the pole big
You said we gotta look both ways cause you the street?
Well you gone pay if you cross me, I’m the toll bridge
You been trash, tryna convince us how great you sound
It took for you to use a Jack hammer for you to break new ground?
I’m in a great mood now, shit was different when I was broke, forced to go to the store as a shorty
This the origin story of how I came from South Central and soared into glory
24 hr gang shit, it was war in the morning
Hoping my mama didn’t have to call the coroner for me
Then I found a plug, jumped in the game, built my fortune up shortly
By ‘98 I was paying my mortgage in Maurys
Now it’s beach houses, freaks ‘round us, recording am orgy
Ki's, ounces, weed pounds in the floor with the .40
I’ll send two of yo’ bitches to Florida for me, I really trapped
In other words, I’ll watch his “Queens get the money” you feel me Smack?
Then I stopped dealing crack, I wised up, I was too comfy
Gave Rex 12 thousand, back then that was my shoe money
Ain’t shit these streets can do for me, I had to choose between the money gettin' me everything in my imagination
Or being a free man to attend my kid's graduation
What my life like?
While you still gang bangin' letting the chrome burst
I’m at the kitchen table helping my kids with homework
What my life like?
While you flamin' steel, and slangin’ pills and stayin' real
I’m in the kitchen makin' meals and payin' bills
What my life like? I’m not quite sure
But I pay the high price for 'em so they don’t gotta live a life like yours
It’s no good, following the position of a cold crook
Whose notebook put him in a position that most would
This exactly what it mean when somebody’s talkin’ to ya soul Suge
I need you to come out that Brotherhood and step into Adulthood
I’m the GOAT Suge, and you on the ground with this shit
Thank the Lord he don’t another round of this shit
Yikes!