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Correct Math Hoffa Vs. Ave Lyrics
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Correct Math Hoffa Vs. Ave
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[Round 1: Math Hoffa] Summer Madness! Y’all know I named this event Well, what’s fucking sad is The two times I took a part of this card, it ended something tragic From takin’ Cal, to droppin’ Jones I ain’t wanna snuff the man To Smack kickin’ me off of this league, y’all gotta understand For me to get Champion of the Night, I cooked up the toughest plan Continue tradition: take this Cal', drop a body, and get them fuckin' bands (bans)! Now, gimme silence 'Cause y'all know my history, I get really violent I was hoppin' out, showin' niggas where my heart at, before the Shiggy Challenge! Let's keep it real! You a lil' nigga, just a lil' bigger I'll pull the trigger and level your frame like a crooked picture It's Brooklyn, nigga! And don't be talkin' while I'm cookin', nigga You think I'm kiddin'? Play...POP! (Kid n' Play pop) I'll drop this fat Ed Harris-lookin' nigga [Ave] Robin [Math Hoffa] I'm hot right now! Look what they throw me One butt of the .40 will make ya forehead swell like a floatie You know me If I wanted you dead, I'd get your leader snuffed Two hammers, Timon & Pumbaa Y'all don't see the love? Hakuna Matata, 'cause this'll pick Roc(k) up, and then you'll eat a slug, nigga If Roc is the Gun Bar King, and nigga, you'se his son Then when I leave his prints (Prince) at this murder, he gon' choose to run Beat your feet Fuck gun bars, nigga, I speak wit' heat All you Cave niggas a bunch of Lost Boys, 'cause your leader's Cheeks Yo, Roc, you ducked me! You ducked me in London, you 'member that? It's cool, he wasn't tryin' to lose I should drop him, make Ave pick him up, and help him find his shoes I heard he gave you bars for this match A couple of lines to use? Pacific Rim: to face the monster, they got their minds to fuse But fuck it, who cares? 'Cause if y'all niggas really get me upset... (*Math loses his place for a few seconds*) Yo! Y'all can hear me!? I said if these niggas really get me upset I tell my man, "Grab the squammies, and let's jet" Pull up to where your family rest My man try to hand me a TEC I said, "Chill...(*chk-chk*) Tonight, it's all about the 12 like Danny and Rex!" POW! I show all you niggas how to behave Nigga, I got gunpowder to trade It's more power today You see the flames comin' outta that gauge? I'll have everybody in the core Cajun (Caucasian) comin' outta that Cave! Hold up, hold up... Nigga, fuck these niggas' loyalty I guess I picked up some Hollow-ish ways You try to back out iron, you gettin' shot: don't follow The Wave! Yo, wake up, man! I need y'all to wake up, man I'll have you and Surf twinnin' before this verse endin' Air your top out, let it breathe like it's shirt linen You fat, sloppy fuck! You probably smashin' the worst women I'll take out batter, picture-perfect (pitch a perfect) game like Curt Schilling No, wait...this herb stealing He be spittin’ out lines that ain’t his Yo, Roc, your best man is a cheater? Look what Tay digs (Taye Diggs)! That’s craze, kid! I can’t believe he took it that far! If he was Muslim, he’d probably pray like, “Allahu snatch-bar” And that's wack, bruh You don’t got bars like that Every time he spits a stolen line...I’mma hold up this card like that (*Hoffa holds up a sign that says “10-4 Stolen Bars”*) So try not to fall asleep, you know his bars type wack And I’ll be back the next round to bring them bars right back Hoffa This shit dead as a motherfucker, boy... [Round 1: Ave] I said, it’s ‘bout time somebody finally put me face-to-face wit’ this bitch Nah, I’m lyin’ Right now, I’m pissed for even taking this shit This was simply a Smack favor Y’all know who rap greater But if not, then check my work on Math like scratch paper What’s up, hater? Let me explain a few things ‘fore you get cocky Any thoughts of you popping off, go ‘head and avoid it, copy? Norfolk niggas love to brawl wit’ the stocky Plus, I done made plenty niggas respect my tre way (Tr3yway) more than Tekashi Y’all got me fucked up See, I’m only here to throw some bars at him ‘Cause his last Summer Madness was tragic See, y’all laughin’ But he only act brolic ‘cause y’all gas him But the second he get curious, just know I ain’t Serius (serious) like sarcasm I’ll get at him! ‘Cause the fact that y’all label this dude a bully Got me thinking either y’all ain’t ‘bout action, or super pussy Plus, he tough around the niggas he got Well, show me what time it is without hands: that’s a digital clock This where it stops See, I promise, y’all should save y’all dude ‘Cause the way he headed, he won’t make it to say, “I do.” And this the perfect place to display my proof He get courageous like he ‘Pac here in Vegas? (*chk-chk*) Deja vu! The paramedics will be late, kid It’s over, yo (OVO) They’ll probably push a T (Pusha T), but get no response See what that Drac’ (Drake) did? Or we can shake, kid I bet you I’ll whip his ass! Stiffest jab, then the razor cut Math: it’s ditching class! Boy, this is Ave You intimidating the scared guys Well, look, Justin, take the static there, and the lead flies Kick in they spot, we not gon’ spare lives Leave Just’ for me Other than that, everybody in here dies (hair dyes)! This how we ride! Squeeze both totes empty Math view two 16s (Matthew 2:16) from God Nigga, Loso sent me! But since he feel he like to scrap, let’s scrap I’ll beat his ass Then I’m dustin’ Hoff’ man (Dustin Hoffman) wit’ a Hook: he’ll pee the pants! (Peter Pan) Understand, we ain’t out’cheah playin’, we ride, Hoffa To survive, we was huggin’ the (to) block like tired boxers Shit was hot, but wasn’t nothin’ stoppin’ these boys Facin’ jail, but on go from the start like Monopoly boards Nah, wait, hold on, ‘cause y’all let this faggot say he the GLOAT? Man, you on this stage ‘cause of me! Blac was takin’ the votes You ain’t nobody Smack gon’ pay to see most If this nigga can raise a penny at the door, he Patrick Swayze in Ghost! [Math Hoffa] I like that, I like that I like that one [Ave] The fuck is he talkin’ ‘bout, man!? The fuck this nigga talkin’ ‘bout, man!? Now, see, before, his scar story of war got us alarmed But we watched you harm dudes wit’ the heart of a soccer mom Now when you speak on issues ‘bout real niggas, you drop the bomb So we don’t care about your slice anymore: he Papa John’s! Man, this fraud bitch is bluffin’ On God, this fist touch him He’ll get dropped and still leave wit’ the bruise (brews): he McLovin’! And whoever feel they wanna jump vicious Drop ‘em dead, on sight (onsite) wit’ copper head, like them Pornhub bitches I mean business! Don’t make this shit the worst day for you Ever brawl wit’ a southpaw? That’s my word, they colder He gon’ get hurt, bitch, I work straight shoulders Get a right to the chin, and left on the roof like the first Hangover! He straight chochi, fake soldier! He play bold, his face stole up Or put the stick to Juice: I hate soda Made bro feel he brave ‘cause he dazed Dose Man, Juice gotta quit it! (got acquitted) Yeah, O.J. did it, but case over! Wait, hold up! ‘Cause I know he know I been ‘bout that action! .30 under the .40: that’s that improper fraction! Aye, Mook, this who your problem wit’? I’ll take care of Math for you, you only gotta pay me back There go your scholarship! [Math Hoffa] You alright! You alright! You look funny as shit without a hat on, but you alright! [Ave] See, when you holler shit ‘bout the “GLOAT”, you just be barkin’ You and DNA takin’ the same route like y’all retarded Third-person convo - no, wait, I caught it G-L-O-A-T, ‘cause he Got Laid Out After Talking! What we talkin’, man!? Time, man [Round 2: Math Hoffa] One of my fans hit me up as soon as he heard that they set this match He said, "Math, you back erratic (baccarat) behavior? Only sets you back Just black, jack. You know the rule, etiquette (roulette). None of that extra crap, so (craps) do your numbers every round." I said, "It's Vegas...you could bet on that." [Ave] That was hard, that was hard I like that, I like that [Math Hoffa] I said, baccarat, blackjack, roulette, craps Y'all like, "What's next, man?" Yeah, he punch, but wit' this poker, it don't matter who got the best hands! Now let's dance! Y'all put this fat fuck against a pure soldier... (*Math loses his place for a second, audience gets a little restless*) Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on... Y'all put this fat fuck against a pure soldier My fans, like my neighbors: this the style they adore (a door) over But yours? Straight outta Pittsburgh, 'cause they like stealers (Steelers) I'm ten years in Word to God, son (God's Son): I still write Ether See, you the type, when your neighbors throw out a couch You'll walk past it, see it, and be like, "Yo, this shit'll look nice inside the house!" See, that bum-ass shit, that's some shit that y'all probably doubt But that's the reason that he be havin' other niggas' rhymes come out of his mouth I need y'all to fuck wit' me, fuck wit' me I watched this scene go south, and it's really depressin'! You, Bonnie, Twork, and Prez the new "Ocean's Eleven"! Like...aw, fuck... (*Math loses his place again, and the audience gets a little more restless*) I watched this scene go south, and to me, it's depressin' You, Prez, Bonnie and Twork the new "Ocean's Eleven" I mean, where's your integrity? When you got exposed, it was a devastator If you ain't the one stealin', pussy, then whoever pushin' your pen a traitor (penetrator) 'Cause I watched you take from top-tiers, to niggas I never heard naming You probably got a bar from my first round in your third waiting But that "iron low like anemic" from Verb? That was the worst taken You throwin' lines to hook the crowd, word for word: that's verbatim (Verb bait 'em)! And then he talkin' 'bout- C'mon! Fuck wit' me! [Ave] Don't beg, don't beg [Math Hoffa] And then he talk about, "It's coincidence" That's a fraud! I've been in this shit ten years, never got accused of snatchin' bars Maybe one or two that sound alike, but that is all Nigga, you've been here three years, and got a whole bar-lifting catalog! You a faggot, dawg! You got your nose in other rappers' balls You be watching battles, tryna get a part like a casting call And that's wack for y'all And like I said, I can't believe you took it that far If he was Muslim, he’d probably pray like, “Allahu snatch-bar” That's no disrespect to the Muslims that be makin' salat I was raised by the block Not a Muslim (*swoo*), but I stay wit' the ox! I'll put the blade in your top, or I'll empty the clip Since you used all them bites (bytes) - BOW! - get your memory chipped! Remember me, bitch! This the G.L.O.A.T., I'm supposed to ghost you You could throw your punches I'll rope-a-dope you, then I'll over-Dose you! C'mon, man! This is me punchin' in Ave without GPS-in' I'm a legend - who the fuck is this PG stressin'? Yo, Smack, see what you got me in? This nigga used to sell bootleg DVDs You think he got a problem wit' copyin'? Yo, you rock wit' him? Nah, Roc rock wit' him I should rock him, then Smack Roc, and have Smack rockin' him You niggas is Smack gunnas? Well, Smack is my gun - soon as you box me in I pull it out like, "SMMDLL-SMMDLL-!" - and let you box wit' him! You don't got bars like that Hoffa! [Round 2: Ave] (Ayo... I just wanna talk right quick Lemme talk right quick Yo, y'all ready?) I say, yo, I don't know who sent bro on this bold mission But I ain't no ho, listen You came to flow? My nigga, do what you know: be dope spittin' If they told you, "Play soldier", man, don't listen You'll just get a trip to Wallace thinkin' you real, Juice, when your Pulp Fiction 'Cause he swear he got a brave heart 'Cause plenty gangstas walkin' these streets...but there's even mo' layin' down in the graveyard Some deserving the shells, others we just cherish Big 3, with Bird and McHale: I seen the best perish (Parrish) You don't scare us, and why would you wanna? Think of it smart 'Cause, see, the scared man would kill you as quick as the one with heart So while you thinkin' you a threat, 'cause he weak He in his head, thinkin' he can't get no sleep, until you restin' in peace! I played these streets! Been in my share of beef Respect my presence 'Cause I put in work and did more, Math: that's extra credit I just ain't run my mouth, sorry 'Cause if they found out, the full force gon' be after the Kid, like House Party So pardon me if I don't see this dude as a supervillain Stupid livin' souped up off an image you used to build him Now, your problem with Nigel Man, crew rivals is forbidden! Plus, that's one Hollow... Survive 30: bet you'll forgive him! Is he kiddin'!? My life ain't no fishing trip in the spring! I'm still havin' nightmares of the different shit I done seen! I mean, we had heavy drama And, bitch, I got a son, so if my foes try to settle a score, do I Credit Karma? See, them kind of problems sit wit' me often Picture your mama dealin' wit' sorrow, starin' at her kid in the coffin Face full of tears, sniff when she talkin' Still in shock, shakin' Juice box like the last sip in the carton! You just be barkin'! Too worried 'bout this image you made up Melted bubble gum: stick to the paper! Weren't you hit wit' a razor!? Next time, 50-clip from a banger gon' fold you Then old Wu: you'll get 36, Chamberz! (36 Chambers) This bitch ain't gangsta! Jones screamed in your face, and you got him - fine But you were supposed to deal wit' Day' just as fast: that's Ramadan See, bottom line, how you movin' is fraud! Punchin' the weak (week) first, but ain't no check Day'? Oh, you new to the job! He got y'all fooled! Nah, fool! It's codes to this shit! If you tough, be it everywhere, not just home 'round your clique Least they'll respect you as a man, no bluffin' You dead that? Then it's edge-of-the-bed sex: you gon' stand for nothin'! (nuttin') I'll switch the subject, but you knew you weren't built for this kind of madness The second they sent the advance(d), Math, like Honors classes Now what happens after this match? Either you'll sit quiet Or go back to fake-lovin' Organik (organic) like Clips' diet Let him try us! It's riots! I'm sendin' some cold hittas Take it out the do', then it's more triggas The toast wit' us, it ain't far Won't say it's in the car, my code realer You won't never hear me "Reedin'" (reading) out loud, like slow niggas! Once it's real, that's when your whore get clapped! I'll tell my boys, "Relax" 'Cause I'mma be the man to lay bae (Mandalay Bay) if it resort to that! .40 clap him in traffic, he'll duck shot scary Got his whip canned: I'll have 'em thinkin' Just' got married How we gon' carry this? 'Cause I'm thinkin' you got me dumb confused Bro, I don't give a fuck! My mind missin' a bunch of screws Like if I come and dump the tool Better make sure your brother, sister, niece, and all his nephews duck: he Uncle Scrooge! If they don't move, then so fuck it! That tool? Gon' go bust it! Even if I shoot a kid all in sin (Cyn): I'm Joe Budden! All that tough shit for y'all to be scared Why weren't they there when you had that problem with Tax, like they garnished your bread? I mean, I'm sayin', your man claim he dumpin' and squeeze the Llamas Swingin' on soft niggas 'cause they don't want equal drama But you had a league problem and took them to see Your Honor So you'll street fight, but rather sue mo' (sumo)? Oh, he E. Honda! Nigga, calm it down! Just 'cause you live, it ain't what it seem I mean, we know you ass-vegan, so talkin' shit is your thing Wait, come to think about it, New York lingo explains you clean 'Cause when you say your "word is bond" (Bon'), nigga, now we know what you mean! Oh, you mad? You wanna swing? And help your stock somehow go up? Well, I'm not them other clowns You better knock me out colder But lemme stop you now, soldier Only nigga that ran down Ave and got some followers was Rocky Balboa, nigga! That's time, bro [Round 3: Math Hoffa] He said some shit about 36 Chambers, right? (Yeah!) It's cool, I'm Wu-Tang wit' the bars But you went on a run stealin': he Boonk Gang wit' the bars But it's aight... And you talkin' 'bout I ain't tough everywhere? Nigga, think of some other shit to say See, I'm talkin' 'bout you stealing, but you know that we steal (steel) in a different way We in the era where they hate real niggas and truth-sayers Everybody wanna play games, until you put that motherfucker on two players See, me, I don’t do favors ‘Cause ungrateful niggas is move-changers And when they tell they story, you know they skippin’ a few pages See, me? I got this scar in Schenectady, right? Before my shoes started mashin’ dudes On 7th, they tried to rush me, but I made it out, blastin’ through On Lex, the cops jumped me - I kicked one of they asses, too What I’m tryna tell you is I’ve survived way worse Aves than you But it’s cool, it’s cool Nigga, look at my hands - scarred knuckles from long scuffles You try some dumb shit, they gon’ touch you, a lil’ double On the inside? Rough skin, large bubbles From clutchin’ two hammers, one clean, one dirty: The Odd Couple See, you the type of nigga that be talkin’ threats and lookin’ tensed I’m the type of nigga that stay calm and be lookin’ dense An hour later, you in the E.R., wit’ your shirt lookin’ drenched A month later, I’m carving my name inside the booking’s bench See, that’s the type of shit I be on See, I really lived this shit, and that be these niggas’ problem I used to g-ta- (*Math becomes flustered for a second, losing his place yet again*) See, I really lived this shit, and that be these niggas’ problem I used to take niggas’ ice cream, but I ain’t tryin’ to bask in robbin’ (Baskin-Robbins) But if you was floor seat, you have to take a loss, B I’ll slide through and take the ice off Ave, and leave him salty God opened my eyes, and revealed my blessings Now I’m Christmas for the blind: you gotta feel my presence (presents) I’m not the loud-talkin’ nigga To be honest, I hate talkin’ I’ll roll a blade down Ave, then cross him: that’s jaywalkin’ But nah, nah...he don’t even get the blade in my pocket Either I keep mellow (‘Melo) or skip the Hawks: we goin’ straight to the Rockets Pop it! You ain’t the Ave that you rap about URL speak for you, so don’t act different if I smack (SMACK) ya mouth… Yo, time, man [Round 3: Ave] I say, goddamn… After the face-off last night, you sittin’ there runnin’ your fuckin’ mouth...to do all of this goddamn chokin’ Smack, I know this shit ain’t comin’ out (*chuckles*) But one thing about it, I’m a Norfolk nigga Done had to grind to provide the dinner Gunfire, some of my homies died tryin’ to get splendor Shit, it ain’t easy to survive in Virginia Just know your path ain’t make you Supreme, Math, ‘less you a 5 Percenter But, nigga, let’s look at the truth ‘Cause it’s always the ones who can’t feel they self gettin’ shot , ‘til they get bullet proof (bulletproof) And you remind me of the type Tryna live up this hype...until a real .30 reveal you as Body of the Night See, niggas like you like to pump y’all chests? Oh, you a tough guy? Bet? Them niggas gassed you up to come try and flex? Well, let’s see right after this dumb guy stretched Will these same men lift Justin (just ten) like judgin’ a dunk contest Or will they do they best grievin’? Stress for a couple weeks, then put Math on an arm or a shirt like test cheatin’ See, he’ll laugh until he shot And they gotta tell his son, “He tried to gamble in Life, now you losin’ your daddy - watch.” (You caught that, right? Aight, aight, aight) I'm just tryna show him the plot of how some things work, Beas' Beefin' wit' certain niggas, that'll get your team murked, Gs And it's gon' be mean vers' me You, Chamberz, and Cor' found All three, hunted (300) down: bitch, I'm King Xerxes The nerve of these nervous-breathe Urkel dweebs who fear him I told Smack, "Contract is a scratch. Let me get near him." Yeah, I hear him wit' that 'Pac speech Well, when that nigga wit' the long nose make you back up, don't be in shock, G It's a lot of rappers you scare - just not me It's probably five that'll drop you for real - I'm Top 3! So I could leave him slumped sleep, then Tay gon' let the guns speak We know Roc(k) got heart (Hart) wit' him: that's Jumanji! You think he fuckin' wit' me!? Oh, you must puff the new reefer! Or feel he tough 'cause he snuffed a few people Well, listen up - bitch, I will let my knuckles crush a few features Then he gon' follow up on what I left of Math: this my substitute teacher See, I looked up to him As far as battle rap, he inspired drive But if he try me, this gon' be the spot where my idol lies (idolize) And I'm not gon' play wit' him! I'll smack him wit' a bottle of Seagram's just to leave a path of gin (pathogen) like an AIDS victim You better get him, 'cause niggas know I'm relaxed and be respectful But swing at me with a strap Shit gon' happen, bro, I bet you I might split a check and have some niggas stretch him Pay the Cave, or bring half to a Dot: that's turnin' fractions to decimals You'll check who? Not over here - we non-believers Besides that, you'd rather drink a bleach margarita 'Cause if I gotta palm a heater, I'm bombin' the harmless features And that karma clip will calm any kind of karma that reach us This is me, Just'! Heat tucked, but if sparks lick off I'm fuckin' up the Vegas vacation: Clark Griswold! Naw! 'Cause I'm feelin' nice, not quite like a killer Leg shot - to get away, he'll have to slide it like Thriller! I'm that nigga! By now, shit, I figured he'd get the picture You want a problem? Holla I'm around shooters and product-pitchers Seen some young niggas strung in the mix Shit, them niggas went from servin' the junkies to becomin' them shits! And it can be somebody you rock wit', too You and him cool, so you can tell if he a user or not, the amount he cop from you So stop it, duke! I done seen all the shit you done seen Like, everywhere I go, that flour (flower) stepped on: it's Prince Akeem! I'm from the 7-5! Ten toes down, never fronted! Pound on my chest, took me an oath that I fear nothin' Niggas like my kind come by the dime Wait, add that, young'un 7-5, ten, pound, and a dime: bitch, I'm 100! This ain't nothin'! The fuck is we discussin'!? This nigga trash! What he 'bout to brag about? All the battles that's from his past? Well, Iron cooked you, got ya head cracked when you went at Holla Even Cal'll re-kill (calorie) him like it's a fat nigga problem! Yeah, I'm 'bout it! Nah, 'cause I appreciate all the labor But I'm on a different mission This shit was a smaller favor Now, I dig the fact you wanted V-A to get off major But you could've sent Math to Jakk' (jack), like, "Call me later" But it's straight, cuz I told him, "Fix my plate", right, Smack? 'Cause you been sleepin' It's time I bring my state right back Don't give a fuck about these sucka niggas! They type wack! 'Cause I'm a nigga outta Norfolk, straight like that! (*Crowd starts chanting "3-0!" for Ave*)
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