URLtv - Rum Nitty Vs T-Top lyrics correction

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[Round 1: Rum Nitty]
We got Rum Nitty vs...T-Top Bizzy The Bear
It's gon' get crazy today
This was been 'pose to happen, 'bout time we made it on stage
Them lil' shots I was throwin' at you? They was mainly for play
But you think I'ma come out to GA and play more?
No, Vice Versa, it's 'No Mo' Play In GA'
Aye, I told Troy, for some real money it's shells
Stuffin' in the 12 with earplugs in, I'm Bear huntin'
That's how I'm rockin', I get to shootin' up with the arm Smack and I'm not stoppin'
'Til somebody digs a hole for the boy, and puts a box in (Suboxone)
Ya dawg food, I can get on big stages and smoke all you
But sayin' I'm the king of the small room, speaks Volumes
Aye! You 'bout to get all the smoke
And take so many punches the fans yellin' "Get off the ropes"
I ain't sparin' bitches, try me, I get to airin' wit' it
No cap, we really pull up where you livin' so swing on me
I triple dog dare a nigga
If the Bear even lift a paw there'll be pallbearers liftin'
I cop the tool, prove to you that I would pop it too
Now you gotta admit yourself...into the hospital
I'm 4th Quarter to the death, we ain't never fell out
But he gon' try to convince y'all that I switched up on 'em like I'm a sell out
But y'all know the claw game machine? Keep playin' wit' the Quarter until I take a Bear out
The irony, I'm tryin' to see what niggas despise in me
When you and Brizz split Darkside of the park for rival teams
No way you loyal...that ain't the way it's workin'
I should zip you up, but in a 'Duffle Bag Boy' for how you play your (Playaz) Circle
But you sold a hundred bricks, right?
50K in the mattress
Space Jam, Roger Rabbit
Get in tune (toon) with real life, we heard enough
I'll burn you up, I won't tell a soul, we live by the code until they murder us
And die by the code (cold); hypothermia
I serve you some, on my flag, see two bald heads out the Eagle like Serbia
If we throw the hands, I'll fold you bad
I'm the "get up close" type
Short Strike, it'll be over fast, like yo' bitch ass
You sold dope to ya own mama? Well you should've been tellin' her "no"
Take care of ya folks
You went against the main reason real niggas was even was even sellin' it fo'
Aye, you a snake wit' no honor
Like how you went on strike and told Smack "no" cause the money wasn't worth it
Should've did the same for ya mama
You a hoe nigga
Meet ya death, use ya head, tread carefully, easy steps, leave you stretched
The inf' beamin', 'til the red line up Top like a Fila "F"
Blaow!
Longest clip, if I let it fly you hit
Airplane mode, the Sig' nose (signals) droppin' shit
Know I got a colder rhyme, watch ya tone or get the Sig' nose (signal) Bizzy (busy)
I had to use both the lines
Gang member, trained killer
Get ya whole circle boxed, I'm shape shiftin'
Shift the blade and cut shapes in 'em
Leave stars all in Top like a raised ceilin'
The tre pop, aye, we can trade shots
And where ever the can' do (candle) light the Bear
It's gon' be candle lights and bears in the same spot
Blaow
You gon' retaliate? Try give ya man peace?
Take the law into ya own hands? You gon' get a vigil and T (vigilante)
You walk around this bitch like you ain't scared to die
Like you can't be next nigga, 'til I run down on you and charge wit' a TEC (Tech), you gon' look at death different
Lead spitter, two handguns, send you to the gates, I'm a bread winner
Bitch you can't keep it real yourself
(Suicide or I'll do the job, you decide
Kill yourself!)

[Round 1: T-Top]
It's crazy, my neighborhood still fucked up about the Nipsy death
It's like when you try to make it a hater can be your biggest threat
You ain't even go nowhere and they mad cause you ain't get 'em yet
They see you doin' good and they mad cause you ain't injured yet
I pray daily, I just ain't big on all that religion shit
All I know is one day you die and that's the end of it
But that's a problem, we don't take time out for the innocent
So I'ma make a moment of silence for his remembrance
....
Okay let's kick this shit, it's T-Top vs Rum Nitty, what's shakin' cousin
Uzi, spray a nigga face like I'm macing somethin'
AK, use a Russian (rushin') for the door like I'm late for somethin'
Or I sent 12 to your porch like the neighbor buggin'
80's dumpin', right in his legs, it's too late for runnin'
I'ma leave Rum on the rocks and I ain't chasin' nothin'
This lame disgustin', he never live our life, he just wanna get famous from it
I can't relate to youngin', that's why I hate ya punches
Every line the K is bustin' or you tryin' to flip a name or somethin'
Nigga, he can never tell us about kids gettin' separated when we find out the states is comin'
Or, gettin' a sweater for Christmas when ya mom's had to make the buttons
See them real life conversations? He can't discuss it
Cause he live on the other side of town and this is his way of escapin' from it
Nigga, until I chop ya body up in pieces and make table food
Take a spoon, feed it to ya daughter on her way to school
Ya baby too, she started cryin' we made baby food
This ain't the first time we put Rum on a baby tooth
Make a move, we gave you a test you can't make it through
Cause Rum ain't strong enough, and that 80 prove (proof)
Tonight, I don't wanna hear none of that baby boy Melvin shit
How he gon' leave the Hustler in a wheelchair like Melvin Flynt
I could tell you bitch, that's why for this battle I wasn't a bit excited
Sharpshooter, I need a plaque for the K (decay) like gingivitis
Get the knife in, leave cuz on the edge he's indecisive
But if I give this .9 to Rum this club gon' lose it's liquor license
Aye, it's goin' down in the south like the liquor prices
If I phone company, you'll get a bunch of niggas behind you like you wit' Verizon
Swingin' metal, just to put him under, I'll hypnotize him
He gettin' every round on the head like he memorizin'
Then I put another clip inside him
Gun big enough to hit every Crip beside him
Wait, other than Geechi homeboys, you don't never see no Crips beside him
Aye, I'm startin' to think you put yourself on nigga
No big homies 'round it's like brought yo' self home nigga
Cause at one point, everybody was bangin' except Rum
He was cool, but for some reason they ain't accept Rum
Soon as the nigga start rappin', here the set come
You ridin' the color wave but that's what they expect Rum (spectrum)
You dead Rum, and now lil' man tryin' to flex cause he 33 years old and got a lil' man complex
See we tolerate it, but that don't mean we like the nigga
Cause he always, almost, about to fight a nigga
Like in ya last two battles, you was twice as bitter
You got emotional over Twork like you found out your wife a stripper
Question, where was all yo' handguns nigga?
Cause we never seen a grown ass man throw a tantrum nigga
Why you just ain't grab ya burner when son did it?
You the Gun Line King, why you ain't show him how ya gun get it?
Nigga, you left the venue then came back, that's not how we conduct business
But I should've known he would storm off cause even "tantrum" got "Rum" in it
Dump biscuits, don't make me send a TEC ya way
I had to use extra bake just so I could stretch the weight
And I ain't even sweat when the Feds came to investigate
You ever seen me lose sleep over a charge? I rest my case
Desert spray, loaded pistol, control ya temper
Cause I'll leave Rum pourin' out if the nigga can't hold his liquor
I'll hold the blicker, close then kiss her
Cause it's the closest thing to mom like an Otis sister
Nigga you punch, I vacuum seal, we rap (wrap) different
You throw up C's, I put up G's, we stack different
You wear brims, I know brims, the hat different
You owe Troy, I sold boy, we SMACK different
Hold up, cause I'm not feelin' his tempo
Cause Mayweather punch good, shit but he ain't winnin' wit' Kimbo
Aye, they tryin' to jump me, I got shotgun, it ain't the fronts eat
The pumps be, kickin' niggas out like a Trump speech
Son sweet, I can get him touched for dumb cheap
Rob him, remove his ice, I like my Rum neat
We are actual bosses, done took actual losses
The only thing killin' in Arizona is natural causes
I be clappin' a muffin' and now he thinkin' that he 100 proof
His gun'll shoot 'til I bury (berry) Rum with the lemon squeeze we makin' jungle juice
Concrete nigga!

[Round 2: Rum Nitty]
Where the fuck did all that money T-Top
I know you rich ass hell don't hold out
You said on Funk Flex, you had a half a mili oh you got 11, right?
We don't believe the shit you tell out yo' mouth
But you glorify your trappin' though
The whole world they know now
But ain't you supposed to pitch on the low? I gotta bring the Bear a tone (baritone) down
I'll bring it to you if you start, grab 2 K's (2K) and black Top (blacktop); shootin' at the park
Mask on me, 100 round mag' on me
Lettin' it fly in ya attic like Amnity'
Why the fuck are you runnin' Cassidy?!
Thinkin' it's all good he see the mob (Goodie Mob), take out Cass'; Dungeon Family
This some shit you ain't gon' make it through
I ante up, to a level you can't take it to
Turbo, I slide with the sweeper like a Breakin' move
And I'll walk up on Top, poppin', breakin' too (break in two)
We cool, I'll split ya shit
Serious, YNW Melly, not the one to get too friendly wit'
I'll pull up palmin' the pistol, tryin' to body a nigga
Right outside of Top spot like an honorable mention
I'll knock at the do', came to it, I clap a round
Stomach shot, he reach for me and staggered out
Hit the flo', if that first one don't tap him out
Another five in the back would (Backwood), I'll peel Top and air a 'matic (aromatic) out
Respect how I move, was born into this Crippin'
Wasn't no other set I could choose
We were separated by colors, what you expect Rum to do?
Bitch nigga, I can tell he scary
Load the clip and put one up Top, I'm ready ready
Heavy metal, run you off your block if you ever test me
And this'll kick off if the Bear return; Devin Hester
Aye I knew I had some shit when I wrote it down
But now we sighted it more the rounds became mortar rounds
Mask man, flash cans
I'll let it peel off, NAX nigga, like a half Zan
I up the gun, empty, reload, then the cal' lit'll give him another one
Then another one
Then another one
Captain Morgan, the Bear'll (barrel) get stepped on in front of Rum
If you thinkin' I'ma do somethin' other than punch?
Forget it people
If I try angles (triangles) on Top it's a Desert Eagle
Aye, I'm like the only one that rap, when they say "punchlines took a backseat to performance" I brung it back
Main nigga holdin' it down I front the pack, pistol whip him
Just to show you who the Top gunner, Smack
BLLLAT!
I'm a marksmen, I hold it steppin' grippin', never missin'
I shoot at the Bear and (barren) land, to the Desert empty
That Funk Flex shit, you blew yo' shot king
Got on Hot 97 and choked on the Radio, you ain't Do The Right Thing
But the nigga tried, and here's where it all goes left for tryin' to move a Crip aside
This bitch'll die
.40 blow, headshot; glory hole, Top unidentified
Aye I wish a nigga try, I wish he would jump really
We play for keeps, so if ya life get took I'm wit' it
The money right I'll cook up different
So for dead presidents, Top'll be headed (beheaded) for a bag, good luck nigga
Aye you try to count me out against the Bear
But right before I send his soul, the fifty rose, come get ya flowers while you here
Bitch, you can't keep it real yourself
Nigga suicide or I'll do the job
(You decide, kill yourself)

[Round 2: T-Top]
Damn, that was pretty good
Hell I was impressed, every round you was rappin' 'bout the hollows and TEC's
I can't believe yo' little ass got a chopper that stretch
I almost stopped you mid round and got me a vest
The Gun Line King
The fuck is a gun line king?
You'll lose ya life, a bitch can show you what a gun line mean
I blew a shot, the barrel was smokin', stupid hot
But I'm DJ Drama, I will never let my Uzi drop
Buy one, get one free, two'll pop
He in his car, I'll shoot his drop
He gettin' the ring behind the glass like the jewelry shop
See it's the same thing witchu dawg
Borin' ass hell, no personality, we just know you're going to yell
The reason they only rap about the .40's and shells
Is cause these bitch niggas never had a story to tell
And dawg my whole life changed soon as crack cocaine came
I Chef, Raw, then push Roc(k) in the front, that's on Cave Gang
You ever seen a fiend get naked? It make ya face change
She shirtless, walkin' wit' the Jakkboy Maine veins
It's Park Lyfe, mob ties, gang shit, drive-bys
Hold the nickle over his head give him a high five
Or the chopper ha ha, two taps that's blaaah blaaah
That's what I meant (mint) to leave (leaf) in Rum like a mai tai
What?! Bitch, you done cruised up shit's creek
Who told dude's that shit's sweet?
I'll shake him, cause Rum is only used for mixed drinks
I will pop up on a Crip with a Glock up on my hip
Servin' Rum while my niggas lickin' shots up in this bitch
Or the chopper split ya shit
Had the doctors knittin' Nit'
My locs shootin' out the window like 'Pac was in the whip
They'll do you sloppy in this bitch, just know where to tread
I sold rock and won't stop until I go to the Feds
The type to kill ya manager if you owe me some bread
Yeah I'll do you filthy Rich, let her nose up and let the bucks go to ya head
Nigga! Aight, let's talk about his Jordan's now
How they was fake, but you was even faker when you bought 'em clown
Nigga Michael's body was layin' like this

{T-Top leans to the side on one foot}

Fuck you get 'em from? The lost & found?
Now that's insane Crip, but I thought you was Grape Street soon as we seen Jordan Downs
Aye, somebody go tell 'Tez I bought a round
If he ain't like how I broke down Math I'll give Cort' (quarter) pound
And you be takin' shots at the Wolf, well there's a reason Smack ain't bought it clown
He know when you add ICE and Rum that shit be watered down
And you don't even deserve the match
What have you done for the culture?
Cause when it comes to niggas from ya state, we can only name one in the culture
I can count out seven niggas I done brung to the culture
Now whether they stayed or left that was up to the culture
But how come we never ever heard of no other Arizona niggas?
You mean to tell me ain't nobody else in Arizona witcha?
Rusty gun, give him that old smoke, Arizona nigga
I'm at the club, whatever section you in, I'll air a zone a nigga
Wit' a can' as long as an Arizona nigga
They had to fan him, makin' sure the air is on a nigga
Give him the business, I started runnin' errands on a nigga
You a bird, prolly sing like canary's on a nigga
I'll get engaged wit' Rum like I'm married to the liquor
Nigga! But y'all know what's wrong wit' battle rap?
You get to be who you wanna be
Gun Line King, bitch ain't even got a gun wit' him
Hold on, Gun Line King, ain't that Tay Roc nickname?
Explain
Bitch how you supposed to be this awesome hero when you steal niggas alter egos?
Soon as we hear the Gun Line King we like, "Aw here he go."
Be cautious people, I spark the Eagle
Had a Mexican plug in Miami, it wasn't Don Marino
I got 'em all for cheap though
Have you heard the non sense of how I'm lookin' for them Crips on 43rd and [?]
I will hurt and rob him
Take his bank card and never make his first deposit
It get worse about it
I can tell you a bitch by how your skirt was slidin'
I will murk this guy then walk off with a smirk in silence
Cause this body gon' mean more to the culture than Surf survivin'
I'm just a work in progress, that mean I'm rough around the edges but the surface polished
I was servin' powder but like it better when the work is solid
You insane Crip well I'm comin' to the worst asylum
Tell the nurses "hide him"
Let bullets come burst inside him
Concrete nigga

[Round 3: Rum Nitty]
You 'bout to get a bad type beatin'
No I'm talkin' like, "you ain't really have to him that bad" type treatment
A goal picker switch, rip the skin off yo' back type beatin'
Lookin' up instrumentals on Youtube, that type beatin'
I'm 'bout to put you in ya place
Top shotter, get Top shot up, cook you wit' the .8
Bullet in his face, blaow, fuck what he thought (thot) he on the flo' if I pull it off the waist
Quit actin' like you run them blocks and ya MAC peel hollows
You shaped like an Advil bottle
And you cotton soft under Top
When I schooled DNA, you was there that day in the buildin'
I showed E more to (immortal) life and you think you can kill me
Bitch stop, respect my Crippin' and get ya shit knocked
Over seas (C's) I pull out a .4 in (foreign) battles and flip Top (FlipTop)
I'm mad right now, cause y'all thinkin' this a match up and I'm really in my bag right now
Sayin' he gon' give me trouble well let's see how that plays out
Cause I done got out the pen for holmes (homes) like a halfway house
I ask him, got any final words before you past then speak
I'll take you all the way up to a mountain Top for ya last speech, king
I let you have if you test me
100 shots, tryin' to give you half of the weapon
The clip filled wit' mo' hollows than a manic depressive
The .5 put two holes (O's) in one, like Cassidy record
The piece pop, Grind Time, this ill MAC (Illmac) have a Hollow rippin' through T-Top
I keep it wit' me
Battle rap Baphomet, you gon' need Jesus wit' him
Tired of y'all tryin' to compare me to niggas cause of gun bars
Once the Gun Line, King gon' see the difference
Fuck you thought?
Everybody in battle rap done fucked yo' thot
Rex, Shine, prolly lost her to Loaded
She a Jumpoff Top
If I get ya whole squad robbed, whatchu gon' do? Try and save 'em?
You gon' lose what's in ya possession countin' on Top; shot clock violation
I spark it on him, miss wit' the first two but pick Bear in the third like a Charlotte Hornet
Get T hurt, then ya team murked
Two different missions, but we both 'bout to leave Earth
Thing burst, movie clip, put a body on a half moon like DreamWorks
He said I told him, this .40 will get raised by the Bear like it's Mowgli
BLAOW! It's ya death date
I want you to look ya killer in the eyes
I took the mask off in the Bear (bare) face
Smokin' shit what I be on
Why? To be Frank, Nitty ran wit' Al Capone (Kapone)
Bitch, you can't keep it real wit' yaself
Suicide I'll do the job, you decide
(Kill yourself)

[Round 3: T-Top]
URL this my closin' verse
Like fuck a casket throw this bastard in the back and just close the hearse
Now I ain't come here to make the crowd go berserk
I came here to show y'all work
(Now let me get it in)
In this culture, there's so many disguises on a nigga
What they do in they personal time, they hide it from a nigga
We supposed to be a family, but you been lyin' to me nigga
So from this point on, I ain't tryin' to be ya nigga
There's a rumor goin' round and I'ma make sure y'all get it first
And trust me, it fell on my desk, I wasn't diggin' dirt
I would say Swear To God, but I"ma leave that to Tay Roc and that nigga Surf
I wanna play my own game, called "Guess Where Rum Nitty Works?"
Now, you might visit this place three times a week if you got a girl
They sell Bismol and ginger ale if you gotta hurl
They got jewelry, fake ass diamonds and a lot of pearls
And if you lived in the south you nicknamed it Wally World
Aight, enough wit' the game homie, let's go get it out the way
It's like a caption too early on the TV, you know what I'm 'bout to say

{T-Top puts on a Wal-Mart vest}

Bro, nigga, you been workin' at Wal-Mart 'til February of this year
You can act like you didn't
A fan gave me the info I said, "You have to be kiddin'."
I called there myself and went and ask for the nigga
They said, "Cornell's on lunch break", Oww, that's gonna kill him
See, while you was helpin' niggas breakin' down the roll back price
I was breakin' down but still kept the whole pack price
Hidin' work from my family you don't know that life
I had to sleep wit' the pack and my clothes at night
But you? You way more customer service then cuttin' and servin'
He the nigga who be checkin' our receipts when we come to return shit
Some old ladies walk in, it doesn't concern him
He still tryin' to see what they stuffed in they purses
See, see Wal-Mart felt bad cause Smack wouldn't give Rum the revenue
See, that's how we know you don't be blazin' wit' the stock boy, you a stock boy
Why you sayin' you playin' wit' the mop for when you pick up trash and mop floors?
He like, "This can't be luck."
One time he forgot to put the wet sign down and he seen somebody granny stuck
That's what he meant when he said he'll M.O.P. ya nigga auntie up ('Ante Up')
I ain't lyin' bruh, he was at work writin' for Surf, man the guy is tough
He happened to be on aisle six like, "I'ma light him up
I need to put Surf on a can'", looked up and seen Hawaiian Punch
Now like I said, they felt bad cause Smack wouldn't give Rum the revenue
They seen you punchin' in ya battles they figured you could punch a pin or two
He on the register, instead of askin' what's on the card
He askin' if he on the card, that's unacceptable
Instead of checkin' for bar codes he's checkin' if his bar's cold, they done respectin' you
That's why you never moved up in the company when the other ones would mention you
You think cause you a Gun Line King that was gonna give Rum the pedestal
At Wal-Mart you could be sellin' TV's, the next day you gotta cut the vegetables
So they fired yo' dumb ass cause you was only one dimensional
All the managers got together before the meetin' take place
They gave him that, "Sorry I gotta let you go" speech that we hate
They said, "One hour. After that you must be leavin' this place."
He just grabbed his blue vest and threw a C in they face
I wanna know what you did on lunch break
Did you go to the hot bar and try the chicken?
Did the staff get a pizza delivered and y'all divided the ticket?
Or maybe you went to Subway so you wouldn't have to drive to get it
Or did you work at the one with the McDonalds in it?
Now look, bro, I promise, despite all these jokes there's nothin' wrong with havin' a job
Even if you happen to lie half of the time
But you tryin' to hide it from the world, that just wasn't the best route
That's how you fix this bag on ya own like a self check out
Say it wit' me "Self check out"
The cashier takin' all day
(Self check out!)
Like hotels after a long stay
(Self check out!)
Like doctor visits on an off day
(Self check out!)
Like Tech-9 before the court date

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Correct Rum Nitty Vs T-Top Lyrics