[Round 1: Tay Roc]
I'ma tell you like this, p**y
You should've stayed in the Midwest
The sh** you're in not a piss test
These shots that I let out the stock, they go in vest
Leave him leaking red, now he blue, he ain't switch sets
This b**h flex, get chin-checked, or stretched by my index
I pull up, then push up on your n***as
You'll get your bench pressed
The after-school program; I'll get these kids wrecked
Like I left on the Caps Locks; that's big TEC's
I been stressed, I ain't impressed
With none of these new n***as
Smack should've told you
I don't just give the shots, I shoot through n***as
I turn your yearbook pic into a news picture
Leave you in a ocean of blood and let your crew ship ya
Go ahead, tell me how you'll drop me if my jaw get tapped
You like a motorcycle junkyard; you hardly scrap
Be all you can be, that'll get your army clapped
Everybody get hit with this SIG; it's a party pack
I don't f** with y'all f*gs, y'all on a gay team
You better slide, I'll hit you for real, I don't play swing
I'll clap the 9, leave him absent minded; that's a daydream
They'll find this artist underground
Or floating on a main-stream
Silly old you if you confess to the cops
No video shoot, your whole set getting shot
Your silly ho too, she get stretched when I pop
I'm KFC, I wing the drumstick
Leave her thighs and breasts in a box
Aye, Will, check out this floor scheme
I hope you understand it
I'll give your b**h hard wood since you take her for granted
Caught that? Your marbles on the floor when I spark that
Ridin' with a all black chopper, that's my car pet
Carpet, marble, hardwood… them all floors
I'm strapped with a 22, one 8, them all 4's
Run down on him, I'm like, "Here, they all yours!"
Have him tryin' to recoupe from bullets from his car door
If I don't off bull, my goons in line at his mom's door
Tryin' to get him, like he Concords
I'm strapped like Goro, that's what I'm armed for
When they find this boy in a box it won't be cardboard
Aw, Lord, I give him flashbacks of a while ago
If will getting cash, eating, I'ma host him with a Calico
Speaking of Calicoe, I'll f** him up after ya
I will put Cal in the ER any day on the calendar
That sh** I did to Qleen Paper was a ma**acre
I will get X boxed; no Soul Calibur
Will, I'll scrap with ya
If I lose before sunrise I'll have you sleeping in a coffin; Dracula
I keep two K's, you're not that live
This who I gotta k** to show you n***as Roc top 5?
Why not JC? He'd a end up getting popped outside
That mac could rain a bullet
So when you hear that cha-cha slide!
Shout out to my n***a Midwest Miles
I look at all y'all, like, "Y'all is Midwest childs."
I'll have you wishing you was back in the Midwest now
With my arsonal aimed at the only trick in this Midwest crowd
Play Superman, I'ma play the Kryptonite
I'm Papa Johns; you get a slice when I grip the knife
Hey, Smack, get it right, ain't none of these n***as nice
If you ain't from the East Coast you ain't winning sh** tonight
Simple as that, I gives a f** what this n***a said
I will turn a closed casket into this n***a bed
Rex told me go back to Maryland with this n***a head
I'ma hang it on my wall, y'all know this n***a dead!
[Round 1: III Will]
How many of y'all feel like I ain't supposed to be on this stage tonight by a show of hands? Well, that's cool
‘Cause I read the comments and I feel the same way
Just ‘cause y'all don't want me on this stage tonight
That don't mean that y'all gay
But dawg… y'all don't want me on this stage tonight?!
Man y'all gay! Second thing, I just wanna tell you
Tell my n***a right here, this fat f**
Don't say sh** while I'm rapping
‘Cause this ain't that kind of sport
I'm the type of n***a that we can handle it after the battle
And I'll slap him off his mama porch
You ain't got no bodies; you signed this contract you dicking yourself saying you a k**er
I see y'all still slowing it down, well, speed it up
I said, you ain't got no bodies
You's contradicting yourself saying you a k**er
I told y'all I was on some other sh**
Now I'ma show y'all how to smother sh**
But I'm getting head in your mother whip
She outer space thinking I'm her boyfriend
But we only f** in the car; that's the mother ship
n***as like you and Shotgun don't say sh**
I got a legacy already
n***as like you and Shotgun don't say sh**
But if you spell it out your leg'll see why
This shotgun ain't nothing to play with
I'm the same n***a from BET, you see how I spit it to him?
Same n***a from BET that said, "f** it!"
Then won it, straight drop how I give it to him
But them battle rappers, I was just sifting through 'em
But now for the dead pres I'm back
OD'ing on Smack, like Chris Tucker in the living room
Ain't sh** f**ing change
Y'all gon' make me say "f** the fame!", and have this n***a looking like Alonzo when the Russians came
Nah, that was f**ing lame, and this ain't no f**ing game
So if he go for the steal I'll put one round his head
And tuck it back in the shirt, like Hot Sauce at a Rucker game
I ain't f**ing playin', you from the slums?
Nah, you right, you is from the slums slums
But you acting like I don't got young guns
That'll come leave you slumped some
I still got young guns that'll put dum-dums in your tum tum
For the bread, they'll put a knot on your head
That's a lump sum, done
What you gon' do if I come to Baltimore?
Like, "f** what y'all say!"
You ain't gon' flip no rage or lift no gauge
I'ma be in that hallway all day
Selling rock around Roc, like a dopeboy in the Flintstone age
But if you come to the Yak, you know what they gon' say?
You have just entered hell, Roc
You can't tell, Roc? You can't adapt to where we dwell, Roc
One night and you'll hear "dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-dah", n***a feeling like he shell-shocked
You from the booty-gripping crew
That's why I can't stand the b**h
You can't even stand to piss, but pick a fight with me b**h
I'll swing a cannon fist, damage sh**
Big loads knocking down doors when we blammin' sh**
Attach that long a** banana clip, when I swing it look like a…
b**h, it look like a long a** banana clip!
But when that 40 blow, that's what?
A rocket when it blast off? No, too slow
When that 40 blow that's what Roc get when it blast off
[Round 2: Tay Roc]
They ask me why I ain't been on UW or King of the Dot
Doesn't even matter
This is my 9th URL, all my views are in the league that matters
End up like Samuel, I'll reach and stab ya
Like Method Man on 187; that's how I teach a actor
I'm mad I'm battling you for no extra paper
You have never been on a URL card so I'm doing the effin' favor
You should take caution, or I'll yellow-tape ya
To my shooters I make sure
Bills get pa**ed, I'll be the legislature
I don't respect your gangsta; Swave, you my n***a
Why you made him team Homi? You shouldn't let in strangers
I'll hit this investigator with a heavy banger
Put this cop in a walker if he try to text his ranger
I wish you would cross God; no intersection
Leave your men in black when I give Will Smith & Wesson's
It's ironic how when I raise hell he get sent to Heaven
I'm Funk Flex; I'll let this hot 9 give him seven
Tay Roc lose to III Will; bad prediction
You're from Pontiac and ran into Roc; bad collision
You swing on me, get your life taken; that's a given
Shots will have your sh** all outside; that's eviction
I will get your b**h merked; Mike Vick sh**
Chopper the size of Tori Doe, this some slick sh**
I will leave his lady red when I grip this
Pop the trunk, put you in it, then make your Ms. fit
Tell this b**h quit, his money long I get him taped up for that
Like, "Open your safe, or you won't wake up for that!"
If it's empty, I'ma find where your mother at
When this mask scare her I bet she'll make up for that
I could get you set up; f**, is you deaf, player?
You better walk, man, for the record, I could set player
When I black over white blocks, that's a chess player
Get him clapped, find him out in Brooklyn, like a Nets player
Exchange words? I ain't got sh** to say
If we argue, right in the middle of talking you get a K
Now spell it out, and you'll see that that sh** was straight
‘Cause if you spell out "talking" in the middle there is a K
I see you like rebu*tals, well, try that sh** with me
Right in the middle of your rebu*tals you getting T:d
Now spell it out, and you'll see that that sh** was mean
‘Cause if you spell out "rebu*tals", in the middle there is a T
Rebu*tal that! If we wreck, then it's a wrap
JC try and break it up, his little neck is gettin' snapped
Cal step in, get him clapped; he'll be Isaiah Thomas
Detroit n***a pissed on with 11 in his back
If I said it, it's a fact, sh**-talking get you penalized
I could tell you soft looking in your tender eyes
I be walking with a pump, sawed-off, minimized
One round knocking out every round that he memorized
n***as die, I don't change sh** when I'm strapped on him
Gun bar after gun bar, ‘cause I'm strapped on him
When I clap on him it's a wrap for him; since he from Yak-Town I'll have his town pouring out 'Yac for him
I said chill, Will, if I don't steal Will, the steel will
Headshots, he won't remember a round; I'll Yung III Will
I let the crowd choose how you get it, when I k** Will
Should I give him a Smith, like Emmitt, or Emmitt Till Will?
f** what you call him, I don't find him that iII
When I fire at Will, I just fire at will
They gon' find his a** k**ed, even though this ain't your hood
You could end up in the trunk of a Pontiac still
[Round 2: III Will]
I'm the illest n***a moving, you get me?
I'm rebu*taling that last thing
About rebu*taling, so you can hit me
I know you're not, so shut the f** up!
Everybody wanna battle Lux, like he God or something
I don't so, Jesus, after him, you up
n***a, you cannot walk in my shoes
Nor fit in my jeans; they will have to hem you up
I come to the funeral and alter everything on the altar
When they reading that hymn, you up
n***a, I will hem you up; you ain't feeling me?
I will "him" you up, that's Smack, n***a
That's just the evil thoughts of a Yak n***a
What you gon' do, n***a? Ice my house like an igloo, n***a?
But tell the truth, n***a
n***as be hating on that line like it was bad, but however
That igloo line put this n***a ahead
Of every battle rapper, even Lux, he better
‘Cause with that igloo line you said that was so f**ing clever
That gave him the biggest Eskimo fan base ever
But I'm at his b**h crib though
I'm like, "You got a fat a**! Can I hit somethin'?
You mind getting that thong ripped
And getting some long dick?"
She too reached down, palm gripped, said "Aww, sh**!"
I said, "b**h, let me hit somethin'."
She said, "I can't right now.", I said, "b**h, we is finna f**."
She said, "Well, the kids here, and Tay Roc—"
I said, "b**h, I don't care if the kids playing or he is pulling up."
Five minutes later Daddy was almost
Breaking a rib in them guts, he came in, I upped the tool
He said "Kids, run!", I mean they did try to rush
But that's why I had that Magnum on me
‘Cause it catch kids when I bust
Damn, not here, n***a! Not here, n***a!
I can't choke, ‘cause I'm not a top tier n***a
I said, I'm that new n***a that y'all need to know
Flow freezer cold
You just another b**h to me; you Keisha Cole
If you got that bag and don't pay that ticket
You'll be in the ER if you owe 'em, b
And if you don't live, then you see more ratchets
Y'all think I'm choking? Y'all ain't even peep that
I just said he'll be in ER if you O M B; that's Bmore backwards
Let me hear you getting them dead presidents
I pull up in the Lincoln, that's what the weapon in
Run up, bend your men for the settlement
And you gon' get your face on the 50, like Jefferson
Don't say "Oooh", ‘cause that's his sh**
But we gon' talk about his sh**
You gon' put his face on the 50, like Jefferson?
You f**ed up, ‘cause I'm either some dumb
I might be some dumb, but he plum dumb
Where in the f** do your money come from?!
Aye, but that's cool, ‘cause if that's the case
That ain't where the sh** stop
‘Cause I'm feeling like Roc, cashed out when I'm at the mall
Or when I play with the b**hes, waving expenses
Pockets stay full of Reagan's and Nixon's
Oh, you ain't heard? I'm the man on these city streets
Me and my n***as went to King Of Diamonds yesterday
And made it rain all Kennedy's
I'm getting money, n***a, but let me get off that
‘Cause every bag I get, that's another bad b**h to ask for dick
Ask your b**h, don't be acting pissed
Or you'll get smacked and sh**
Or use this target practice when I'm blastin' sh**
Let off two, told him to move his shoes
Or get socked out his Tru's; that's a fashion tip
But the third round was the one that k**ed him
That's ironic, that's what we ask from clips
Aye, just ‘cause I'm fried
Don't mean you can't get your dame boiled
‘Cause soon as I saw Tay, I let it cook
So his ho can see I barbecued when that flame broil
[Round 3: Tay Roc]
You was on national television
You didn't get paid and you still not poppin'
What has it done for you?
You co*ky off them 106 wins? I'ma humble you
Whatever you got paid tonight, I'm paid double you
I f** up every rapper I come across, that's nothing new
I don't f** with you, I make fun of you right in front of you
Even though this ain't biological, I'm sonning you
You wanna win a battle, well, Roc ain't who you run into
Now I'ma put you back
In the Proving Ground for a month or two
You be talking in codes using that fake Jamaican sound
We don't talk in codes on the phone
‘Cause we don't play around
I tell my shooter, "Clap any f*ggot you see standing around!"
Crucify him, that mean once you cross him
Get him hammered down
He like, "What if this fat n***a try to run?"
I'm like, "Track him down."
I guess y'all want me to define that
That mean map his town
When you see him, pat him down
If he smirk, crack his smile, clap him down
Leave him on his face; Pacquiao
Real life, don't get yours taken, I won't play with you
This ain't a movie, you can get your kids taken too
One clip, but it holds 30, look like it's takin' two
When I grip that lemon squeeze I ain't makin' juice
Tay the truth, I came with all bars, I don't joke
Besides the fact your moms smoke crack
And smell like dope smoke
I'm loco, I run up on your b**h while she's solo
She's Evelyn; her head gets the bu*t of the ocho
I'll f** his b**h and his sister in the same car
f** his b**h in the backseat, then I trade off
Stroking your sister, then I pull out of that lame broad
Your b**h clean my dick with her mouth; I got brain washed
This that old Roc, disrespect to your whole block
This 4 pop, leave holes in him the size of boat locks
Face shots; Botox. k**ing n***as, I won't stop
Another Midwest n***a that ran into that road block
I'm so hot, you heard you had me you should've called it quits
You praying that I choke in my third, but I ain't Charlie Clips
Aye, Charlie Clips, could I take it a bit further?
How he k** me but I lived to talk about it?
Ain't that attempt murder?
f** that! Back to you, William must be high on crack
From now on I'm disrespecting n***as, f** how you act
If your b**h jump in between us while we try and scrap
I'ma put baby to sleep when I give that dime a tap
How is that? Holla at me, I'ma holla back
One on one I'll make this n***a look like Kyla Pratt
Please don't make this llama clap; when it pop off
I'll put you in the same place I put Rich Dolarz at
I'm nice! I'm nice! I'll be that
You tryin' to tango? I'll box your head
Like Oovoo for the tiny chat
All I know is this grimy rap; you swing, I'll bob the cat
Once I right him, I left him, like, "I'll be back."
As far as my money, don't get in between
I find your b**h, take that B head; that's guillotine
You scheme in your raps, I really scheme, with extensions that'll take that whole party out like a limousine
I keep two quarters on me without a conscience
I could do four dimes for these two nickels, but if they find this
Here's a penny for your thoughts, give me nonsense
That chopper holds a dollar, when I shoot, that's 99 cents
[Round 3: III Will]
I'm mad right now, so f** it, I'm about to talk sh**
What you n***as mad at? ‘Cause I'm the new n***a?
Y'all have to go from A to B, B to C, D to E
I went from A to E, you think I give a f** where Tay'II be?
Just only wanna say one thing
I don't wanna hear no "Don Demarco!"
Or no "Bang... Bang... Bang...", ‘cause that sh** gay to me
But look, you told Shine that he got his swag from Rex
And that he was Rex foster child
You right, and Murda Mook is his foster mother
But if he k**ed you and joined Dot Mob
What is he? His foster brother
Now, Summer Madness 3 got pushed back
But f** it, we made his fall bigger
These Dot Mob n***as all dinner
Come with the chop at his block, and make it mothaf**in' rain all over the place, like a call center
I'm walking up on him, like, "Tay Roc!
Why the f** is you nervous? f** is your purpose?"
The only benefits you got with Dot Mob
Is if I do you bodily harm you under some nurses
But if my mans get that call he'll meet, greet, serve you
And send you on your way; that's customer service
k** you, then off your spouse next
I hate you so much I hope a mosquito fly over to Magic Johnson crib, then come to your house next
I'll catch Tay on the late night, hood on, brim low
I gotta creep silence with that 40, you know, tip toe
Soon as I see him I– man, what the f** I gotta do that sh** for?
I could walk up to this n***a
With no strap, like, "b**h, what they hit for?"
He ain't even do nothing on the n***a that beat his moms
But I bet he'll hit a b**h though
Fifth blow, leave him laying there, like, "That's berserk."
See your b**h, grab her purse, run in the room
Stab the nurse, blasts disperse
Have this b**h a** n***a chest looking like a afterbirth
f** that old Roc!
Them two n***as four burners, and that stove top
This that one 12 blinking in your face; that's that broke clock
I know these n***as looking like
"Aight, III Will, you could tell he a threat, he ready for vets."
Nah, I'm already ahead of the rest
So f** a vest, protect your head and your neck
I'm tissing on all these top tier b**hes
And waiting on the outcome; that's a pregnancy test
Left him a mess, Tay, we can box if you want
Get socked if you jump
MAC in the car, but not in the trunk
co*king the pump, it's like I'm a virgin on a murder spree
I could k** this b**h and not give a f**
I let that snub nose touch Roc
I'm the director of a rehabilitation center; f** Roc!
I'm silent granite, he pomegranate, I co*k it, blam it
It look like rocket damage when Roc get damaged
But dawg, you from the booty-gripping crew
Now look, I know it just sound
Like I'm chastising and scolding and sh**
But maybe these words will mold you and sh**
h*mos**uality in your faculty is noticed and sh**
n***as grab on your booty when you flowin' and sh**
What if you spit a hot three rounds?
K Shine gon' come grab your scrotum and sh**
What if you in the studio and spit a hot track?
They gon probably—dawg, y'all see where I'm going with this?
But f** it, if y'all get money, why would I ruin that sh**?
But at least we all know now what y'all do for that sh**
I'm a Team Homi ‘cause every real n***a know me
I'm a Team Homi n***a because I'm good when I'm OT
I'm a Team Homi n***a because I'm everywhere hood be
Ayo, Aye Verb, I'm a Team Homi n***a
Because your mama said I could be
I got that Glock in the right, push his wig left
Bullets Catholic Priests; touch his kid next
I'm tryin' to smoke, empty his guts, split his mid sect
I remind Tay of Aye Verb mother
Toughest n***a in the Midwest
This n***a Math Hoffa said I stole his Jamaican sh**, y'all
So out of every battle rapper
That's the n***a I'ma steal from? What the f** is the reason?
Besides, he stole Bonnie from me
So if anything, motherf**er, we even
Did Tsu Surf pull an AR off his hip? Tell me that it's not so
Tell Hitman to stop shooting empty shells, pronto!
And if Hollow wanna be Hollow he can get a hollow, blindfold
I don't care if I get high or low
Straight up I made this sh**, ain't nobody gave me sh**
n***as talking about they paved the way for me
n***a, pave this dick, Yak-Town in this b**h, man…