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Correct Charlie Clips Vs Hollow Da Don Lyrics
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Correct Charlie Clips Vs Hollow Da Don
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[Round 1: Hollow Da Don] I wanna let y'all know, I wasn’t even gonna show up today I got some bad news this week My grandmother got bit by a bee, y'all It was one of them East African bees, it’s not funny But when I heard this was for y'all I showed up, so let’s get it I said… Charlie, Charlie, Charlie… I’ma be calm, Charlie, I ain't gon' lose my voice "You'll get engaged with the rage!!!"—I ain't gon' do that, boy This is battle rap; anything past, we can scrap for that Don’t stand here talkin' between my rounds, we got Smack for that If I say somethin' hot, my nigga, I don’t want no dap for that Oh, you just wanna be friends and play with these words… Well, they got apps for that! Nigga, fuck your entourage! This for that parmesan Since the boss been gone You turn to Scott Baio and put Charles in charge? NAHH! ‘Cause when Charles was gone He was dissin' you, sayin' that you owe eight I got double that versus Surf and bought an Audi '08 He seen my car and was like, "You got all of them dollars?" I know your persona, don’t hate Oklahoma, Nevada: your initial state was the envy… okay So I can stand here and laugh with him Or I can kill him with the cold face ‘Cause you took my bar verse Ars about brushin' me wrong And flipped it with the Colgate That ain't what the Don say Who gave you bad directions? You lost, took it the wrong way Now I got somethin' that I owe clips So I load up with the old clips First two was hot, and the third got stuck like the old Clips You know the old Clips that stumbled in his old clips Then said they owe Clips? — Oh, Clips! You stumbled all 2013 and now you claimin' you the best, nigga? Since they gas him I’m supposed to be Pat, nigga Well, vrooom… I’m a vet, nigga! And you X-Factor, not ‘cause your priorities set, nigga ‘Cause every chance they get, the fans make your head bigger My first gun was a .38 revolver I got that from my nigga Roger My point is, before I even knew about Clips I was already poppin' And just ‘cause it was GrindTime I didn’t stumble out Or come up here with the I-I-I got you, the-the-the mumble mouth Sonic the Hedgehog game If I get hit on this stage, rounds keep comin' out You barely have thirds! At that point you shoulda got fired from it, son I see you lazy like McGrady so you’ll never retire number one He’s so redundant and simplistic Y'all all know that one Clips bit Where he goes into a scheme and you can predict it Way before he spits it? He’s like… "I’m in that flyin' Spur, then I’m dunkin' in my homie's Charger Got twenty, take your top off, that Ginobili spark ya My other gun, Kawhi Leonard, this other homie darker" Then he’ll say somethin' about point guard, a 9 And what y'all see comin'? (crowd predicts: Tony Parker!) Okay, okay, y'all with me! What about when he said, "I’m way better, and way clever" Say somethin' about Pacquiao or ring And what y'all see comin'? (crowd predicts: Mayweather!) See what I’m tryna say? Them bars like the next exit off the highway They know when to get off, you tell 'em it’s comin' a mile away But he does have fire writtens, he got fire writtens Like when he said "without Clips, Hollow ain't killin' shit" But if you freestyle half your battles And there ain’t no fire in pen, then what good is Clips? I ain't sayin' your shit wack But bro, it's the same move every time you kick that Setup, punchline, setup, punchline—that’s how you spit that? Just a candy rapper with four bars: you a… (Crowd predicts: Kit Kat!) — see how easy it is to predict that? The aim gon’ change his range The range gon’ change the bang The bang gon’ change his frame, the frame gon'— Boy, yo' bitch ugly as hell, my nigga I mean his bitch is just aww You like battle bitches, with gun lines? Bitches with bars?!? Rule number one: this is a business And the mix is a flaw, I don’t mix it at all You won’t hear a single drop 'bout I: no Kendrick Lamar But he went from Ash Cash, now you hittin' Couture Nigga, for bands I wouldn’t smash that: no expensive guitar She the one against O'fficial, dressed like a dyke, right? Hair everywhere, Scary Spice like That bitch look like Whitney on the pipe night Or Tina after Ike fight But you gettin' stacks now Get her hair done, put that hood boog in Fendi Oh, I guess it’s your lady’s luck We never seen her look good with Remy And you know what’s the saddest shit? I’ve been to they crib, when he mad at her and she mad at him It’s hilarious, ‘cause instead of arguments they actually start battlin' She be like, "If I come in and you textin' I bring the TEC's in, and start shootin'…" And he's like: "Shut up, bitch! You losin'!" She storm out, go to the kitchen She like, "Charlie, you ate my food again? Charlie! Charlie!" He in the back talkin' about "Guess what room I’m in!" But alright, alright… I ruined it… Bro, third round against Rex, you said the truest shit But please don’t come up here and act like your moms tough ‘Cause I bet a thousand large bucks That in real life my mom will fuck your mom up A'ight, a'ight, let me put this up, let me settle down What he need to beat me… I'ma save that for the second round, L.O.M. [Round 1: Charlie Clips] Charlie Clips versus Hollow... Lux, what up? Mook, what up? I’ma kill one of y'all niggas this fuckin' summer I like how you talk that shit Here's where it goes down like a fuckin' plumber I'll body every nigga on your side Put 'em in sleeping bags: that’s a fuckin' slumber And if your mom do hook on mine? Cool, we gon' jump your mother I knew I shoulda skipped you and went straight to Lux ‘Cause after that Total Slaughter performance Your career was kinda dead to me But a little voice in my head said "Nah, you Clips, and if you gon' be the top gun, why not add a hollow into your legacy?" Plus, I wanna see what’s the hype about ‘Cause if you rap like this Then how can anybody think you better, B? Your voice hoarse, you leave niggas sleepy Hollow, that’s the reason you’re not ahead to me You ain't beat grey hoodie Lux, you had the fake Black Panther With niggas in the background grippin' a shotty How you struggle with fake activists But lean is what you sip for a hobby? The work I put in is rape, it's not meant for a Cosby Burberry shirt: my lines gotta go over your head first To see they meant for a body My third round against Rex? One of the best ever My whole block was movin' Niggas ain’t even askin' about my pops They askin' me how the Dots is doin' I tell them niggas Shine shinin', Murda murderin' Shit, I think the Dots is movin', I ain't wanna kill Rex But when a Dot get in your face, you gotta oxy-cute him And what you gonna do? What you gonna do? Rap about my pops like he did? Pull out paperwork, Hollow? I’m not shook Nigga, I haven’t seen my father in 20 years But still know how my pops look My real name is Charles Brown, and I be lettin' that stock cook And if he try to Dee Brown, I will bang on him and not look Librarian: put the silencer on — shhhhh! — if you do not book Ahh, it ain’t no biggie ‘Cause you gon' get a round more than a Pac hook I'll call my brother like, "Bring the K, D!" And then Hollow give us that shock look ‘Cause he got a feeling, the thunder about to get fired on the spot ain't Scott Brooks I said listen, Hollow, if your bitch is fine I’m bringin' two fives to split your dime Chiropractor at King of the Dot: I’m tryna bend her spine Rondo workin' out in the gym: that’s the biggest 9 Shot the shit in East and the nigga died in Pacific Time I’m loco and bi-polar, ‘cause I don’t celebrate but I wave toast I’ll write Hollow is that nigga and that bitch on the same post If you try me off the Hennessy Then I hope you keepin' your bae close ‘Cause this little shit sing at niggas and bitches: it's Dej Loaf Put a sock in it, I didn’t come here to show dude love Arms out, and everybody in your squad get it: that’s a group hug Recyclin', I put the old beam on the new snub The ray and the arsenal workin' together better than U Dubb This is a part of war I’m throwin' smoke bombs at your apartment door Niggas coughin', they ain't feel wheezy this much since Tha Carter 4 Big shit barkin', it's soundin' like a retarded dog I’ll let this shit pow, brother, it fuck around and mark us all Fab put his shooters in the Uber, my whole team is in a rental Window down, they arms out But they ain't reachin' for your demo I had to name the pump Ike, you gotta squeeze it just a little Or the kickback will surprise you like Tina in the limo I said on some G shit, Hollow, you my nigga But I need to know what the fuck is up You had the chance to put battle rap on top of mainstream But then you fucked it up It’s like every round you got dryer and dryer, man, you fuckin' suck! How you was able to clean Big T but couldn’t wash Budden up? Your third round better be your best round ‘Cause you not gonna survive another day Every time I rap, pull out your phone and text your mother "Pray!" ‘Cause she gon' call Smack, Beasley And ask God why we took her son away And the sad part it’s only five hours left 'til Mother’s Day Mrs. Dinnananon — wassup, baby? [Round 2: Hollow Da Don] My nigga, that round was cool But yo' bitch still ugly as hell, my nigga, we see this How you a top tier nigga with a PG bitch? Alright, alright, I know y'all don’t wanna hear this Enough about this nigga bitch Let’s talk about how this nigga bitched on a nigga dick For a year tryin' to battle, I had bigger fish Needed an extension when I got Loaded I wasn't worried about little Clips All my battles been main events All types of rounds, I raised the net Since Clue was makin' tape cassettes And Jae Millz was in that Avirex Nigga, when I came in and went in, he came and went So let’s place a bet, and when I win write R E S P E C T When you make the check, nigga, pay respect! I said, these fans like to hop on dick But we don’t do that, we all riders I hate to use this bar during a crisis I gotta make the crowd riot, so I'ma be more fire I got y'all… about a stolen scheme He gave to another battle rapper but originally stole from Queens It was about a vid, copped a Canon and shot one on 5th It was Loaded Lux, T-Rex, Head ICE and Charlie Clips {DJ scratching noise} Let me rewind it, this about to be my hardest shit Keep the cannon cocked, I only need 1 shot when the 5th on me I don’t care if Lux loaded It go through Rex T, hit ICE head, then clip Charlie I coulda just came through and put two in his abs And he was standin' there lookin' at shit he never knew that he had I’m hyped shootin' belly, see me in Nebraska I’m sayin' if he droppin' dimes to get me to Rico I’ll have him eatin' this banana My man put away the ox, so it’s the Tommy he gon' blast at y'all Me, Nas or T-Boz: ‘cause I don’t know how to act at all This Shotty ain't a battle rapper or a passenger seat This nigga musta made a mistake if he said he askin' for beef He left Ruby Tuesday to go to Friday’s to get a sundae You just ate half of the week But on Sundays he a changed man, Charlie sits and stays home It’s nothin' religious, that's just usually when Chick-Fil-A’s closed Charlie, you gotta bring somethin' better and that's similes These burners and gloves go together: that’s chemistry I had an epiphany, they said before this battle shit He was a Harlem nigga with no bread I said, "A Harlem nigga with no bread?!" They said, "A Harlem nigga with no bread." I said that’s like a BMX with no pegs A frat party with no kegs, Friday with no Craig A Harlem nigga with no bread?! They said, "A Harlem nigga with no bread." I said, that’s a Rastafarian with no dreads A goalie with no legs, a Cali nigga that smoke regs A Harlem nigga with no bread?! They said, "Yeah, he don’t even got a business or a LLC." Do you got an ENI number or a tax ID? Oh, the only thing you own is CharlieClipsTV See, that’s ‘cause he don’t got no will, no drive, no ambition I seen all the money this man’s missin', I got a confession See them “sike I lied” t-shirts y'all bought outside? My man printed I seen all the money that fam missin' I’m like, dog, I went and got it copywritten Your whole slogan, so now if you wanna use it You gotta pay me some damn chicken Boy, you do bad business! I actually got employees, you can come work for me And in turn, my nigga, you get that work for free I’m not showin' his incompetence with no cruel intentions Own equity, it’s no equity in views and mentions But if it is, y'all went in on a Charlie Clips' stock And made a huge investment But now that I’m givin' you the business Watch them start losin' interest My nigga, you gotta start thinkin' like a boss Or I'll off his space and leave his achievements on the wall Wait, you from Harlem, you ain't got no damn bars But you flippin', put your man on Damn, pause — wait, now I’m soundin' like Cam’ron Y'all Ghostface twice the killer she died, I was knowin' that sick I’m the type to overdose with the shit I challenge you to battle without ghosts and shit [?] If son back out, I black out, my soul'll eat Clips I know y'all like damn, I was fuckin' with thun See, Smack was frontin' with funds Is DNA your brother or son? I know y'all like it’s crazy how I’m comin' at son But his name's Clips, it's only right I put him under the gun By the way, your weight fluctuates like a boxer goin' up in weight You're fat big-boned and you're big fat-boned the other day I no longer know what the fuck to say I went by his crib, he was eatin' a buttered steak with a cup of cake That wasn’t a dumb mistake I didn’t mean cupcake, he was actually drinkin' a cup of cake Worry about the bars, but don’t worry what I got on But if you is worried, LOMclothing.com ——— Sike I lied, I’ma say it now! Sike I lied, I’ma say it now! In order to make that happen You’ll have to run in the Vatican church, ransack it Grab the pope, saran wrap him Back hand him like Sam Jackson Cremate his damn ashes with no damn hassle Then pull it out the oven and make a sand castle [Round 2: Charlie Clips] Second round was all jokes for you, huh? Crack another fat joke and I'ma go for your jaw I've been in the streets, they know I’m gutter without bowlin' a ball Two plus two, remember, I’m predictable when I’m holdin' this 4 Sike, I… wait, I don’t own it no more I had a long talk with D the other night This bitch walked by with a mean butt And I was thinkin' like, "Damn, I gotta bag her Fuck raw and catch a mean nut D said "Yo, can I hang?" I said for sure, you know how we do these sluts Oh, y'all think I was talkin' about DNA Man, I’m talkin' about deeez nuts — GOT EEM!!! Hollow, crack a smile, it’s just a joke, try to save your pride Shut the fuck up with the boos Hop in the whip, we about to take a ride I gotta take y'all on a trip, ‘cause a couple of niggas I thought was cool with me started takin' sides Cortez, what up, nigga? Come here, boy! You know I know you personally, in the streets you real But in this situation you a fuck nigga ‘Cause I heard you had a couple of words behind your boy back when Math had got jumped, nigga You know what’s crazy? When you ain't had no crib I was there to move your shit out the trunk, nigga Hollow ain't never let you stay at his house You lived with me for a month, nigga — this is real facts! You know what’s crazy? I guided you through your whole career I held you during that whole Hollow bid Sad part about it, he come home and you jump in his arms, "L.O.M." NY did way more for you than Hollow did He moved to Orlando — question, do you even know where Hollow live? If this is really your man Give me the address right now to Hollow crib Exactly! Damn, you said it type fast Well, let me do it over here, ‘cause God about to strike his ass But not just you — D. Chamberz, ahh You mentionin' me in all your songs Sad part is you don’t even know how to rhyme You used to call me seven o'clock every morning Beggin' me to help you get on your grind I got more features with you than all these niggas combined So I’ma be the first to tell you you suck And you’re never gettin' signed I know what y'all thinkin', y'all niggas wanna boo niggas Or a nigga who battled Surf and started makin' it rain? Y'all love me a minute ago, now y'all gettin' as fake as his chain The problem that kills me is y'all niggas big Hollow up And y'all wanna soup him like y'all wontons Y'all ain't with him for real Y'all only with him for the chips like Bon Ton LOM, NYB, you always got y'all pom-poms But where the fuck was y'all When he was gettin' washed up by John John? John John walked in and he said "L.O.M." Then swung at him right at the door But you fell, I got a multiple choice on how you got on the floor Is it A) The floor was slippery, you fell inside the club? Is it B) When you grabbed him you realized you not a thug? Is it C) It wasn’t lean, it was some other kind of drug? Hey, John John, what was it? (John John Da Don: It was D, nigga, all of the above!) [Round 3: Hollow Da Don] With the Math situation, we ain’t sayin' you did not care We ain’t say go to L.A., shoot everybody, bring a Glock in there But bro… you is big as papa bear… You coulda grabbed Dizaster or Aktive And stopped 'em and been like, "Not in here!" And he tried… But once them L.A. niggas started swingin', you got outta there Your heart was pumpin', my nigga, you know what’s funny? Besides the fact he the only Harlem nigga that comes bummy He’s so excited to get his little twenty thousand And I’m still spendin' Lux' money Even though money don’t matter here I’m just here statin' the facts Clips, this is the most you ever been gave for a match And bitch, I’m not Lux, you better thank me for that! ‘Cause before this, I know what happened Me and Joe had a classic! But I never give y'all the insight on my life So let me tell y'all what happened What you know about preparin' for a battle When your grandmother bit by a bee? Or, or, or, the very same day of the battle, you forget your ID Real shit, no excuses! Wait, that ain’t me, that’s what this nigga will do If he unprepared, during the battle he’ll give an excuse Embed it in the fans' heads, they can bicker and use Over "Did he win or did he lose?" Like, Clips, what happened against Charron? Oh, my nigga, that day of the battle, my nephew caught the flu Well, what happened against Illmac? My nigga, that very same week of the battle My daughter-in-law turned two I gotta throw a surprise party, it’s real shit I’m goin' through! Niggas like, "Come on, Charlie, quit with the sobbin'!" You think these niggas wait hours And pay $100 to come in here and hear another nigga problems? Now I’ma pull up on the block I’ma, I'ma freestyle off the top Sike, I lied nigga! I couldn't stand up here and gave y'all a sloppy freestyle if I tried, nigga Wait, this is genius, I can do this every time, nigga I get in a bind, nigga Just say "Sike, I lied" and rhyme "nigga" — my nigga! It's so see-through, then Star popped a clip Called you a snitch, but Clips ain't pop shots You was standin' there dancin' round questions And knowin' that’s what got your pop locked Let's keep it a buck, Rex said he was with Alpo And his pop flossed in a Lex coupe So if Rex was with Alpo and your pops was It was a boss for respect too But there’s somethin' else about you and Alpo, my nigga There’s somethin' more that connects you Ah, it’s so special… y'all both came up of killin' a nigga When he was mournin' his nephew Snitchin' in your DNA, so DNA, if you start sellin' coke And you wanna get down, tell him no It’ll sound like a Sixers game He’ll be playin' with the answer as he points, "That’s Eric's snow." I'll bring two weapons through For snitches in the confessional A TEC and a nickel if you wanna be technical Let's get to the point, you sarcastic, "hardy har" But couldn’t hang with me bar for bar In New Orleans during Mardi Gras If your man actin' extra goon Leg shot when I’m steppin' to him Split your shit right before I left the room Nigga, that’s an exit wound And bystanders get brutally beaten for beefin' Brooklyn-born, we’re brought up blind with beacons Not concerned with the corner, concoct concurrent Corona's Come with a caliber, Charlie Clips' condition confirmed in a coma I’m just playin' with these letters and tryin' to be non-bias I did some B's, b, and some C's, see… stop whinin'! I was in the box where niggas was not rhymin' Ayo sticks and Top Ramens You nerds dot-com'in and hatin' for the top comment I’m illegal but legal with Desert Eagles to see you Eagles and Regals leavin' you see-through I equal them people that peeped you like a preview A sequel, shoot that needle with diesel position leavin' you fetal Wait… I can’t use mixtape bars? That’s cheatin', scrap But he did that with the Captain Morgan line in the Conceited match — and he act like it was a free at that Had me so heated I was on his locator Visit every place that he be at As you can see, I listened to all of his CD tracks And read every tweet he had — all 98,322 to be exact But who’s countin'? Fuck you, nigga! I was stalkin' everybody Even the niggas that hold this nigga down I'm like, should I get at Clips? Yeah, let me roast this nigga now Clips ain't fat, he just got a big ol' back My nigga, you got a wide body: you a big ol 'Lac I'd hate to be your friend when we was young And some kids wan' scrap ‘Cause it probably be hard as hell to get yo' back Oh, they want gun bars? I got y'all… I'll palm the toolie He gon' take shots to the head like John Belushi I’ll put this bitch on ice like Yamaguchi Silent killer for the mob: that’s Sean Kakhuski See, I usually don’t stop y'all during these battlin' verses But I guarantee there’s a few of y'all That thought Sean Kakhuski was a actual person Be the same niggas that fall for Clips' fifty and fifty nine Surf with an AR on his hip, I don’t get it when they rhyme But enough of that, y'all ain't seen me mad I guess y'all right, the devil wear Prada ‘Cause I'm about to get in my evil bag I'm a skinny nigga, I could care less About grandma good-ass cookin' You fuckin' with a crazy nigga That’ll run in the crib and give grandma that good-ass whoopin' But y'all know I'm so motherfuckin' mean with it I take that grandmother ass-whoopin' back And do a whole nother scheme— I said, I’m probably just weird As I walked up the stairs I broke a bottle of beer Bent her over, stuffed it hard in her rear Twist it out as the bottom just teared Blood was everywhere, a lot was smeared And I used it to write on the wall “Hollow was here.” But y'all know I'm so motherfuckin' mean with it I bring that grandmother ass-whoopin' back And do a whole nother scheme— She senile, can’t tell who, what, which and when I took doo doo from her diaper With some chocolate and mixed it in Fed it to her, told her it’s a Twix and then She said, "Is it supposed to taste this nasty?" I said "Honestly, the shit depends." She said, "On what?", repeatedly she get beat with a iron And I tell your grandfather, "Get the fuck up out that wheelchair!" And I sit down like, “Wheeww! Nigga, I’m tired!” That was a long day of ass-whoopin' for Charlie Clips Damn, your shirt hardly fits! FYI, they got the salsa chips, avoid the garlic dip I’m just bein' real with you, I’m knowin' this true Your face could tell it hurts inside and you know that it's true [Round 3: Charlie Clips] How this shit go again? "Your man Charlie Clips had one battle and think he top three now And how his name Charlie Clips if we only seen three rounds?" Damn, that was tough! That was back when he was hungry, fire, and — pause — you had a lot of flame in you But over the time you became a vending machine, Hollow You don’t know why? I’ll explain to you See, Shady Records got a little hongry, they pushed buttons And you was the one they put the change into You chased that man around more than Kaylin Garcia It was to the point I felt ashamed of you You threw money on stage and told Surf to strip It was at that moment I seen the lame in you You flew Calicoe’s pops a thousand miles and still had a debatable with Lux… Hollow, you let the fame get you See, I wanna show you this .40 Glock But I'd rather school you before the game hit you ‘Cause you chose the stage name "Hollow" And it’s so crazy how that name fits you ‘Cause see the definition of "hollow" is basically unfilled space And with a name like that How could y'all even think he gon' bully Clips? ‘See, what bothers me is that he chose a name that means empty But your whole career you’ve been full of shit Shall I continue? Work out, Hollow Let's see what bein' brolic get you 'Til a — chhhh chhhh — hollow hits you And the doctors change your name while you asleep ‘Cause you done woke up with somethin' solid in you But oohhh, you not that type of hollow You an expanding bullet, basically you a hollow-point But if we go to trial and Hollow point At the nigga that shot the hollow-point Then what the fuck is Hollow’ point? Exactly, see you didn’t choose the name Hollow God gave it to this man and the shit special See, he gave him the name Hollow ‘cause he sharp And with the right aim he probably could split metal But you're just a hollow so stay in your lane ‘Cause when you went against an Arsonal We all seen how that kid stretched you And remember, a hollow can’t go nowhere unless the clip lets you This is some powerful shit I understand y'all gon' get it, don’t worry about it! I probably won this round off that alone One little scheme and a little bit of wordplay You wanna know what’s crazy, Hollow? I ain’t spit a punchline since like Thursday You want one? Okay, cool, you about to get 'em in a bomb way From now on, May 9th is national "What the fuck happened to Hollow Da Don" day I’m extra legit, I got a gift at rappin', you in the presence of Clips Imodium, hey D, don’t let him get extra with shit Cortez' real name is Ernie And he rollin' with Hollow, lookin' all desperate and shit Now Ernie the one I should kill if Charles right next to the Smith Hollow, go 'head and give it up, give it all you can! But let your next of kin know that I’m the God in the clutch Remember he played Street Fighter He never used Balrog and left y'all in disgust? Well, I used to battle rap for free in the yard before lunch 'Til I picked Balrog and learned you can charge for a punch Yeah, it’s over — yes, Hollow, he the best I’m in your mom's crib, she need a vest Tryin' to leave blood all over the pad, but it ain't PMS Ski mask on, .40 comin' out the waist, she about to see her death They ain't seen a black face raisin' a cal since BMF And you said you could beat me bar for bar, Hollow? I’m from New York where we let off rounds And my niggas will Smith you for seven pounds Wait, wait, wait, that’s X-Factor's shit, right? I’m buggin', y'all, I gotta chill How about… grown man bars is somethin' he got— Wait, that’s Rex' shit, right? Yeah, I’m buggin', y'all, for real How about… so it’s Showtime? Stupid nigga, I’m not tryna steal I’m Shang Tsung, I’m just turnin' into all the niggas I already killed My legacy is solidified; Drake voice, your shit is kinda iffy though You beat Illmac after Con beat him You beat Big T, okay… really, bro?! I murdered Verb, I murdered Roc And what I did to Rex? Silly though And Factor, his career been fucked, that ain't even goin' to Xvideos So let me ask y'all in the crowd Raise your hand if you think this sucka a legend I did that first 'til Arsonal killed him No debatin', nigga fucked up his record Then he lost to Surf right after that, see I don’t fuckin' respect it I just wanna know, when you go against Red mans What the fuck is your method? Listen, Hollow, I am the greatest, I do believe in the hype But let’s say niggas don’t think I’m Jordan And Mook laughin' because he thinkin' he Mike But when Mook little daughter get older And they go to ask her who the God She not gon' remember Michael Jordan But she always gon' remember LeBron I’m about 6’8'', 6'9'', 250, niggas get scared when I come to the fuckin' basket, I jump in traffic They say I’m not aggressive 'cause I might up and pass it Oh, y'all still thinkin' I’m talkin' about I'm LeBron Naw, I’m old school, I fuck with Magic I compare myself to him ‘cause I’m sick — and my son a faggot! And you snooo datttt! This nigga will never be Michael Jordan, if anything he Pierce But the reason why I compare him to Paul is wonderful See, you talk down on niggas like you a wizard Tryin' to make him feel all uncomfortable You tough when you was with Brooklyn But when you not with your team you're all soft and huggable I ain't gon' lie, you the truth But your career gon' end with this wall in front of you I coulda spit a thousand fuckin' bars this round But this nigga needed to be humbled Yes, Hollow, you need that That L.O.M. shit you got on your chest, you talk it but I bleed that Drake offered me $20,000 to battle DNA I turned that shit down like, "I don’t need that!" I didn’t even battle you for myself I killed you so my little brother could have Queens back Loyalty Over Money! I told you, Hollow, if y'all remember in the first round I said make sure your third is your best Or you're not gonna see another day Every time I rhyme, take out your phone And you better text your mother "Pray!" ‘Cause she gon' hit Smack, God and Beasley And ask, "Why did you help take my son away?" What time is it? It’s only about five hours left 'til Mother’s Day Hey, Mrs. Dinnananon!
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