Drake - Dizaster vs DNA lyrics

Published

0 1424 0

Drake - Dizaster vs DNA lyrics

[Round 1: Dizaster] You American f*ggot! Now after all the talk about how you would show up and never back out Drake offered to put three grands on this battle To judge it—and you f**ing backed out Yeah, you little f**ing p**y! I'm in front of DNA Wow! No f**ing way! This gotta be my lucky day I'm 'bout to tie him to leash in case he tries to f**in' run away Yeah, the problem with you kids is that you lack respect But f** me over on money right now And try to run out and I'ma snap your neck ‘Cause people know That backing out of battles is not part of my plans But you and Cortez always lie, so not to my surprise, all your alibis came as a bunch of unauthorized scams sh**, even if I met you in the middle of the East You'd find a way to say that I ran But I'm from Los Angeles, I'm proud to say that that's my land In L.A. we support our home teams We got a lot of pride, but goddamn The way you ducked me in L.A. proves You'll always be more of a fan of The Dodgers than I am You soft as hell, I'm not going to lie, fam In your battle with Rex, you almost copped a right hand From Dot Mobb's hopping hypeman When Rex made fun of your retarded mother I know you wanted to fight, man But then they called the cameras off And you walked off and called it a night, damn! Sort of like when Eminem told you "Lose yourself in the moment, you only get one shot in a life span!" And you answered him, like, "I know, Slim! That's exactly why I'm gonna walk away from this mic stand!" Your boy Cortez act on some G sh** We were supposed to battle here He backed out, like, "I need more cash now." And that is some weak sh**; he's a sneaky latino So I wasn't surprised when I came to find out that he skipped He was already flaking like a tortilla, so soon as I saw the guacamole on the side with the green chips I knew it was only right that that bean dipped It don't matter what battling league you actually be with If you gon' be dumb enough to bite the hand that you eat with At least be smart enough To cover up your tracks and don't leave prints Someone call up Smack and tell him to cancel the field trip Straps with the beams equipped Like an active Marine ready to damage your queenship Shells battering, the cannon ring Until half of your team is seasick The other half starts abandoning ship, panic and leap quick In the same fashion that Hollow took his first chance to get green quick, turned his back on GT Packed up his bags, took the cash and then he split And the f*ggot hasn't been seen since It's all a story that correlates if you go back and read script I use this all as a scenario to reference the battling scene with ‘Cause GrindTime is the ship And this is bad as the Titanic sea gets ‘Cause without Smack you wouldn't be sh** but lost talent stranded across the Atlantic sea Without a raft to compete with I got the long nose, like X-Factor I'll make the back of your Jeep flip I said, you'd think we were playing Xbox together The way I left half of your screen split My guns are barely legal With magazines that'll make this teen strip That's how you like it, right? Come back with a clean flip! Yeah, I'm ready for the drama, ain't no question marks I'll rip your flesh apart, like Jeffrey Dahmer Let's get it poppin', I'll take the beef And steady chop it, like a chef from Benihana Speaking of chefs, shouts out to Cortez's mama ‘Cause I heard every GrandTime East Coast event She be fixing Poison Pen's empanadas Speaking of him, you'd have to pick up the phone and ? call ya ‘Cause you too busy, slumped over in the bed with Hoffa Holding hands with Hollow We all know you were raised by Dutch Vega and Sara Kana What's the beef between us? It's been a never-ending saga I'll leave you walking around with Bender's suppressed persona when I Sketch Menace your necklace off ya […] deadly waters I'll throw your body on the stretcher And let the chopper off *Gun Noises* And drop your paramedic helicopter I do this for my fans, you mothaf**as ain't sh** to me Are y'all kidding me? I'm f**ing bum-rushing the enemy These knuckles will leave you buckling instantly I f**ing get timid and start punching you viciously Uppercuts will leave your stomach in misery Like muscular dystrohpy That's for thinking you can come online publically dissing me You can pop your fists while I'm still crushing you physically This sh** is child's play You get ate side ways, like the number infinity I said, you need artist development Before you come on the blog and then mention me I'll stomp you out and make you a part of this history Don't show me that, ‘cause this is about to be the bodybag of the century! Hold on! Hold on! You mothaf**as ain't sh** to me They say karma's a b**h, for you it's probably dentistry Because the part of your mouth that's missing Is only a reflection of what's scarring you mentally So the gap between your teeth Exists merely as an object of imagery to distract you from the real gap between us—and that's bars and delivery! [Round 1: DNA] November 5th, it's ironic, you know my father died on this day And I can still remember him telling me "Son, say what you mean, and mean what you say." See, I'm only 20, Diz, so in my past battles My emotions might have got carried away That's why I flew here to Canada To make sure that won't happen today So when I grip the 9, rip your spine Make your body rewind—man, I don't mean that sh** I'll probably never clap the sh** out you But trust I mean every word When I say I'll smack the sh** out you The difference between entertainment and real life Like, remember when I said I'll f** you up in Vegas? Well, depending on how this battle goes, I still might ‘Cause, see, I still might Move back, move back, what are you doing? Getting in my face tryin' to go crazy Tryin' to f** me up when it's dead time When Drake's here in front of the battle But you ain't gon' make none of his headlines What I was tryin' to say was That the difference between entertainment and real life Like, remember when I said I'd f** you up in Vegas? Well, depending on how this battle goes, I still might ‘Cause me missing a tooth only means I've been in a real fight and got real stripes So until you get tapped with a s**er punch And missing yours from an uppercut Then you know what this feels like I took this battle for YouTube views, promotion and fanbase So I made sure I'm well prepared Knowing my name would be buzzin' in Sweden, China, Switzerland, making them well aware So once I get rid of this storm, and y'all see the weather clear Just think about the end of every other natural disaster You gone see DNA everywhere Remember against A-Cla** when y'all was supposed to go 60 seconds, then on the day of the battle this guy switched it? Then remember against Swave you had timed rounds But he said f** it and you wound up rhyming for 9 minutes? Then against me, this guy told Lush "I'm rhyming 'til I'm finished." Which only proves further you got a problem with time limits See, you the snake that's tryin' to hide your rattle Which only shows the Canadian Quarter Ain't the only b**h that flips when it's time to battle And that's when I realized, hmm You really got a problem with time Like when you say you're a terrorist and a hijacker I'm not getting it, ‘cause if you detonate a bomb What you gon' set the time to? Unlimited? You really got a problem with time I discovered something, Diz, while I was watchin' your battles And, n***a, you have never wore a watch in your battles You really have a problem with time It's not opinion no more, it's a fact, n***a You do […] lunchbreaks […] Change times whenever you want with your hat to the back What the f** you think you now? Black, n***a? Y'all all know, we really got a problem with time But f** that! For the last two years You've been giving me the runaround I managed to stay relevant With every battle reaching over 200 thou' You done the same, but your music's trash So the industry will never love your style Which makes you a earthquake, ‘cause you always gone be a disaster that remains underground See, you just an entertainer, Diz! In other words, a f**in' gimmick; and it's for so long that the delivery can mask those f**in' lyrics Your rhymes are put together sloppy and unorganized That's why besides GrindTime we ain't f**in' with it So battling DNA will be the first time His verses have structure in it So when you spit all aggressive with conviction I be thinking that you actually mad And then understand why you hate us New York n***as ‘Cause he drive us around all the time in taxi cabs Like his rap battle D, he's supposed to be the big bad Dizaster And when I see DNA, I'ma shoot him and let the 5th clap ya I said "Dizaster, let's fight!" – he said "Cool, I'ma b**h-slap ya!" Soon as he hopped out the cab All you hear on the radio is "Dizaster, it's your dispatcher Please go pick up Plex Rock and Lush One And stay away from DNA, you know you don't bust guns You never touched d** a day in your life or touched none And hurry up, your mom's calling, rents due, you must come!" So when you squint your f**in' eyebrows And spit with alllll that aggression I almost think you might really bust your Glock But then again we saw him against Arsonal And you ain't look too good with that f**in' shot You gon' try to rebu*tal everything I say Don't act like you f**in' not, but it's cool, ‘cause a good rebu*tal only means I had to say somethin' hot So don't be confused when he rebu*tal every lyric I say And think he's clever with frees ‘Cause every time y'all cheer for that great rebu*tal You only giving credit to me [Round 2: Dizaster] Man, DNA, you are so f**ing hood! I'm gonna rebu*tal everything you say? Goddamn it, I didn't even know I was that good sh**, but f** it, since he wants to talk about time Then we'll talk about time When I roll up outside and hurt ya But you're DNA, you never click-clack the burner You never commit the murder See, I do what I want with the time limits I'll just extend them further This world's mine, I control time That's why they call me the Prince of Persia But you wanna rebu*tal too, I mean, you rebu*tal'd your missing tooth, but that's not even a rebu*tal topic I mean, you wanna rebu*tal a missing tooth Then make a CD, put out some music, get some money off it Wait 'til at least you have one deposit Go to your f**ing dentist office Write him a cheque with a f**ing number on it And if it makes you feel any better about the situation You can write the word rebu*tal on it Homie, listen, it's been since day one I ain't liking you, dude We can go outside right now and I'm fighting you too It ain't about punchlines, DNA I'll just display how I'm a better writer than you So stop talkin', pay homage, I'm spittin' I solve problems, I'm an awesome magician This street magic, I'll make your beef vanish Like hot pockets, ‘cause all of you chicken I wanna squab with him, but if your squad is honestly trippin' That car stoppin', that Glock poppin' Your top open like Top Ramen before you spark the ignition I start boxin'; Bernard Hopkins Your heart stoppin'; Chris Farley condition […]in an arm bar, caught in submisison Now you lost in the mix, got a bunch of hostages with him He tried hopping the fence, it's an impossible mission I'm camouflaged in the trenches Ready to penetrate your army's defences With these binocular lenses I have a prophet's vision Is that the hardest kid in your clique? I got a problem with it ‘Cause I'm the motherf**er, I'm what your role model isn't I'm the armed technician here to remodel your kitchen With a bomb in it, the islamic condition Part of your crib gone with the wind, shards of you missin' Carving your rib, disarm the opposition Then plant the pipe bomb in the car engine And have Queen Latifah set it off from the distance My job description: I split wigs, like a salon beautician That .38 is Special, like your mom's condition I know y'all have a problem with the retard jokes, but I only use them ‘cause he has something in common with them ‘Cause when he says he's flippin' to mingle And he's letting the machete spray It's not hard for us to see the retarded in him I don't give a f** if y'all wanna donate to autism The truth is—cover your ears, Bishop—the truth is your mom's not even a good example of what being handicapped's about ‘Cause she's a master at that wheelchair In that I wouldn't have a doubt Most people, getting around when they're disabled They find it hard, and you live in a ma**ive house But she uses the f**ing hallways as interstate freeways Where she gets off at the nearest living room exit So she can take the fastest route Weaving in and out of furniture traffic She doesn't even scratch the couch But she's kinda like you in a sense, ‘cause whenever she's stuck in a corner she's really good at backing out Stop touching me! Y'all gon' make a rapping discovery I don't even know how I can battle you so comfortably I still can't even believe this f*ggot's in front of me Everyday I wake up and I hit a blunt Before I even wash my face up Then I think about your genetic make-up And how we can make up such a fake f** You p**y […]you're getting duct-taped up I'll k** every f*ggot in your city, I'll even f** Mase up […]now, you're on a one-way truck About to get ran the f** over over by a f**ing one-way truck You little f**ing p**y! Your face is vaginal Your mouth is like a vagina and in the center it has a hole But f** a camel though, you have enamel toe It's Dizaster, you know I act like a crude jerk Your attitude is past f*ggot, dude You got a gap in your tooth, gagged and you yapped on your new shirt in your battle with Tsu Surf I react, I'm rollin' fast, I let the tool burst Kids will get hit in a**, like the back of a Vatican school church I take stacks off packages, this f*ggot don't move work The only cleaning his gap out Is the only time he digs up or actually do dirt Two thirds of his life has been a root can*l Conceited influenced you in style Everything you about to do he happened to do first The foundation is missing Like the roof of your mouth, that is what you worth I would slap this dude around But the fact is life is already battling you worse And that is reality, I know it's sad, but the tooth hurts [Round 2: DNA] Diz, you ain't say one thing hot You still ain't say the f**in' truth; I've been in about 18 battles And he still gone mention my f**in' tooth And y'all gone cheer ‘cause you think it's nice, people But that's wack, ‘cause its sh** likes to go to the gap Like white people—so why you gon' keep freestyling Acting like you gettin' it? Diz, you ain't rippin' it Even your hat knows I'm gonna win ‘Cause it's like Cleveland, you gone lose in the end Then you wanted to mention my mom being disabled That's why I hate that you rap, b You just […] placed in your rap, D My teeth is missing and I got a face full of acne When that steel flare I bet all of these fans will cheer, like Drake in Degra**i People are rappin', you must be kiddin' me I'll do you like Pun, have you dead in the middle of little Italy Thinking you can spit with me, you ain't hot as humidity So why would y'all give him props For mention my mom with a disability? I'll go to your mom's house, come through, smack her hard Come through, see her right quick, then I snatch that broad Catch her right in the kitchen while she's eating caviar And put that b**h in a wheelchair out the blue, like the Avatar And this the point, see somethin' somethin' You think that you so nice, you little old clown You rebu*tal half lines I damn near just rebu*tal'd your whole round This the point where I pin ya down and have Organik hold you Beat the sh** outta you Like your pops did when he disowned you Give you the same treatment That you did every time you was disloyal But wait, before I do all that, I'ma expose you Remember what you told Organik about King of the Dot? "Your league is f**ing sh**ty, bro If you ain't gonna give us the help In promotion and getting dough, then why the f** you attach our logos against your b**h-a** videos? f** King of the Dot! We technically invented you GrindTime's the prototype, we do what you pretend to do I will never respect this chump!" Now you over here two years later? I guess time flies loud ‘Cause if you ain't notice King of the Dot is sh**ting on Grind Time Now And your last three battles been in Canada So this league basically made you, b**h! And you disrespected them in a battle? You ungrateful b**h! You a f*ggot, I'm just tryna figure out what made you switch I guess Grind Time held you down and then raped you, b**h! I couldn't wait to get in your face to tell you I hate you, b**h! Flew all the way Canada To put you in a wheelchair; Drake you, b**h! They said DNA fell off, well, now I'm back—thank you, b**h! But how's his pop rich and you say you struggle, dummy? You take battles for free but gotta pay bills? I guess you don't care about no f**in' money For a couple of pennies he'll be ready to travel So it makes sense when you ate that sandwich versus SMP ‘Cause that's the only time you had bread in a battle Then you disrespected Jin and his whole race But I bet you if you seen him you'd probably switch sides And dick ride and be pole-dancing You whine and cry about every battle, I bet you have a fit that you don't get your way at your folks' mansion So it makes sense why you hate Asians ‘Cause you always throw tantrums And everybody knows that battle versus Locksmith That one counted, ‘cause you showed you hated Asians more ‘Cause when you choked you looked dumbfounded "But if that's too low then turn the volume on your speakers up Your rhymes is weak as f** Like the last time Redman and Method Man tried teaming up." And when he said that line vs Swave At first I was like, "Woooh, damn, that's hot!" Until Method Man co-signed you And you just disrespected a legend who gave you props And then if you talking like that, then of course he's frontin' There ain't a course, I get him off for nothin' This battle's six days after Halloween It's ironic, ‘cause he already lost to Pumpkin And he said, "In the MC book When you f** up you keep goin'." And in the eyebrow book, you keep shavin' if they keep growin' ‘Cause I'ma keep it a hundred My tooth's missing and them eyebrows is real bushy So King of the Dot, let's keep it a hundred One of us is lying saying we get p**y When I run up on Dizaster in New York with a Knick's hoodie He'll back down and get scared and get mushy Okay, I lied, I see one of us does get p**y But why do you keep on talkin' When you act like you know you off the heat? Me, right now? n***a please! I'm off the beat I'll take your body off the concrete and throw it off the street You got that dog chain on right now But I'm the one that's off the leash So why you keep rappin' like you be rappin' when it's dope You a f*ggot, I'll clap it, then jack it, like your coat You told Swave you pop the nine, show him like Columbine You think that you Blood? Stop it, five! They brought this yellow tape here ‘Cause Organik knew it was a homicide So don't act like your raps is hot or you'll blast the Glock Time's about to run out, you can have your knot You have a problem with time So you don't know how to stop on time when your raps is hot But this Caliente will make you die before the aftershock [Round 3: Dizaster] You dissed me about the Canada sh** tryin' to snatch my props I think it's funny how you have to mention Caliente and Aftershock so you can ride King of the Dot's co*k That's how you f**ing get around, homie, I'll stomp you The only reason you mentioned Drake in Degra**i Because he reminds you of your mom too I'm basically nasty. There's a couple of questions My fans have been waiting to ask me Does she really look like Drake from Degra**i? Is Cortez really on the sideline raking the gra** leaves? You f**ing... you wanna get paid more guap now You wanna get paid like an athlete But you're on lockout, ‘cause you stay in a rap league That only caters to Math's needs When you left your GrindTime family you disappointed them You made them regret the fact they ever let you join with them No one forced you off the boat b**h, it was your choice to swim Now the only thing you'll ever ever have in common with Poison Pen is the fact that you'll never be boys again You know what else rhymes with Poison Pen? Umm, I don't know, "backstabbing disloyal friend"? When you say "bars over jokes," why you gon' pretend? You don't truly believe bars are better than jokes You're not keeping it a hundred and ten ‘Cause you switch it up to comedy too I always hear laughter when your punches come to an end Especially when you spit your gun bars We all think you're the funniest then I mean, come on, dawg, you really can't f**ing rap with me I can go off the f**ing top And this whole thing will become a tragedy Yeah, motherf**er, you ain't wanna be the man right now You f**ing can't even see me, you can't even stand right now But I take care of my sh** and I can f**ing k** you all Yeah, you little f**ing p**y, I don't feel you all But since I'ma change up on this topic ‘cause I'ma k** it tonight I'ma touch up on a topic about why you lie And everybody's gonna feel it, a'ight? This is a topic I wasn't gonna illustrate tonight I think most of the time your brains wouldn't be able to comply But I figured y'all smarter generation are educated And figured I wouldn't be afraid to try See, mainstream is a bunch of manipulation in disguise They blindfold you from the real truth To distract you from a database they hide Charles Darwin is a f*ggot who thinks we came from evolution And later on we changed in size in a different phase in time What I'm trying to say to you is Why would you believe in that and the Bible? Those are all fairy tales, goodbye ‘Cause the truth of our genetics is written in the ancient scribe Our bloodline was given to us from aliens That came from spaceships in the sky Now you're wondering why I'm saying this It's ‘cause based on his name I can relate it to this guy It's all reality based, all in this equation still applies ‘Cause based on reality Everything ever said that was about DNA has been a lie I'm embarra**ing y'all lames I'm eviscerating your jaw and I'm tearing your small frame Rippin' your f**ing heart out And leaving it there in the car lane You st-st-stuttered when you tried to mention that dog chain You stupid f**! You have terrible blog game Yeah, motherf**er, the "true stories" you're supposedly telling, they're lies and they're basically all lame DNA hears a story one way When it comes out of his mouth it apparently got changed So you're not DNA, they gave you the wrong name You should change your name into the American Arcane DNA! Yo, I'm DNA! Hold on! Hold on! Now I'ma roll up and I'ma come with the 5's and the 6 and the 7's Now when I go from 8, 9 and 10 That'll mean you get hit with 11 That's what you sound like: A, B, C, D, E, F, G It's always the same thing, if I bodied Rone and Rone bodied Okwerdz, then what does that make me? Shut the f** up! Alright? You're just an undercard to the main star actors What you gonna do now that Smack don't wanna pay off none of these maincard rappers? What you gonna do now, huh? Do like you did in Oun P And spit your little gay bars backwards? What you gonna do? Race me in a race track in a race car backwards? What you gonna do? Come with the metal after you summon the devil from listening to a Lil Wayne song backwards? What you gonna do? You wanna play that stupid little f**ing game, then game on, f*ggot I'll leave your little brain all trapped Inside one of your own little gay 8-bar patterns Like, go ahead, DNA, flip the word radar backwards! Hold on! Hold on! I can do it—hold on! So when I roll up with the AR and I spray off clappers That'll be the result of this battle If you spell the word radar backwards Wait a minute, radar… that's still the same bar backwards! Hold on, hold on! Now when I roll up with the […] And I spray off clappers That'll be the result of this battle if you spell the word radar backwards…goddamn it, it's still radar backwards! Truth is, I'll break it down for y'all Since your boy Cortez, a.k.a. José, won't explain this stuff I was on the cell all day Tryin' to set up this whole thang with Lush While you in the background with him Doing roleplay on the phone hangin' up You think playing with my money is funny I'll blow this location up And I won't leave until I make sure your face gets crushed Add more flame, I turn your torso and face to dust More flame, the propane take your soul, raise it up I'll leave you f**ing clothes […] in your skull breaking up And dislocating your shoulder bone from your rotator cuff You smile like you don't use Colgate enough Every couple of seconds when you're rappin' Your nose face gets touched Like your trying to point the way your c**aine is stuck Or your just another f*ggot actor Who thinks he's soulmates with Lux But Lux is the man… syke, you're both gay as f**! I'll rip Hollow's hand off While its still attached to his foam paper cup It was, like, six in the morning I saw you and your little sister Jennifer Cortez sit on the corner Holding up a sign that said "For food we're willing to sit on a bo*er polish a ball sack and s** dick for a quarter." And underneath it said "Please! All we had for dinner was yoghurt." Your little Smack gimmick image here literally won't work I bet Math used to punk you And make you finish his homework This kid is like Conceited Except he ended up hitting his growth spurt Your boy Murder Ave doesn't even exist It's not even a known turf; you guys are both nomads The only home this ho has is literally his own shirt Look at you rubbin' yourself tryin' to keep your composure You ran away f**ing Smack Because the events they had were bigger and doper Always b**hin' that Grind Time couldn't give you exposure So you walked around for like six months With a chip on your shoulder Before you decided to jump ship Hoping to get you a little bit closer But swiffed out on our interest ‘Cause you were the diva that was tipping it over And the sad part is all Smack had to do to bribe you was promise to put some new rims on your stroller They offered Cortez a new fisherman boat So he doesn't have to swim to the border And Hollow Da Don got a brand new Nintendo controller People always said your boy Cortez looked like Pitbull And even though he's the same identical poser Now I believe he's a pitbull Since I seen him switch up on his owners Listen here, b**h, you have a listening disorder Your mission is officially over If you think you gon' beat me I'd rather hire Jin as my chauffeur Yeah, I'm a F15 engine versus a 1960 Corolla And you're missing your motor I'll run up in your crib with them soldiers While you're sippin' a soda Catch you slippin', put you in submission and fold ya Then jump up and put my kicks on your sofa Like Tom Cruise did to Oprah Yeah, what's going on, p**y? It looks like that type of sh** you cannot respond to You said on the track 1.25 seconds on your song about your Dad gone that you never clapped a revolver Yeah, remember? One minute, 25 seconds You looked up to the light and screamed out "I've never touched a drug or busted a gun in my life!" You never clapped a revolver I'll flat-line you, snipe at your heart Like the final boss you battle in Contra So act like Manic, so act like Manic, I'll pop ya Give me that deadly stare I'll let it air Leaving shells everywhere, like Italian pasta You roll with a pack of imposters You don't wanna scrap, I'll pull a MAC and I'll sock ya [?] Slapped with the impact of A-Cla** crashin' his Honda I'll strike you faster than the Black African Mamba And send your body bag back to Rwanda Battling me is worse off than sharing a bath tub with Blanka Or getting a back rub ma**age from Mortal Kombat's Baraka Your breath smells like a**hole and cacka You need to grab some Binaca I'll backhand you and I will damage your chakra The day you beat me is the day everyone in Canada considers Sno an actual Rasta What you know about weed? Your whole life you probably only seen two bags of ganja I'm a YouTube superstar Everyday I have new fans, from Deutchland to Jakarta From Buktan to Combala Dominican Republic, and Yucads in Cabanas […] all of them […] Sri Lanka down to Sudan and Uganda But all you have is two fans; you're Kitana I saw you wearing earrings that one day, fake a** sh**s Put on, probably put on, start wearing Prada Instead of f**ing worrying about what you wear You should try and display some honour You scared to come to California Afraid I'll put them Grapes gangstas on ya But every time you rap it's about how you bang your llamas And how you give my brain caps and you be making trauma And how your homies rolled around Vegas And shut the whole baby down and start creating drama But that doesn't make you crazy That makes you like QP's baby mama You never shot a gun in your life, like you said Yeah, and that's the reason why I'm having major problems With the way you were brought up But it ain't your fault, that's why I blame Madonna Come on, dawg, let's kick some facts and just be honest, huh? You went to Smack, put up a stack and you peed on it And that is a fact, I ain't gotta actually speak on it Far as your Facebook statuses, the average is three comments You leave today with a stash in your jeans pocket Then I'm smackin' that green off it You went to Smack, got jacked for your bread and didn't […] demolish you're average at best And to add to that threat this MC's polished f** what this f*ggot just said, I rapidly clap with that lead And rip a patch up the back of your head like Rasheed Wallace Your mom's f**ing retarded, I mean it! But it's not the same, ‘cause she's also a genius She gives a lot of brain; she's a quadriplegic I don't give a f** about her eating problems She can exercise some different feeding options She can't use her hands, they shake So if she wants to have some steak, she puts the knife between her toes and uses her retarded feet to chop them But no matter how good she gets at holding the silverware She always seems to drop them And then stands back looking at 'em Like, "If only I had longer reach like Dhalsim." But I don't want no beef, your mom's a G from Compton Any moment she might show up at King of the Dot And get them heaters poppin', so I better flee Before she acts like Stephen and brings the hawk in You rapped about your dad in the beginning That's some sh** I wasn't gonna say But I'm an evil motherf**er, so all that sh** you were talking about, I think that sh** is gay, yeah I will fly him out of his casket and I'll slump the f*ggot I'll f** your mom in front of her and I'll soak the mattress [?] Then I'll throw the broken prophylactic on his open casket I will forge a stack of boarding pa**es Get on board a Concorde and crash it Into an overpa** during morning traffic Who said that? Come on! Admit it, homie! Speak up brother! I'll go back there right now and I'll f** your mother! Calling f**ing Organik like he f**ing owes you somethin' Motherf**er doesn't owe you nothin' ‘Cause you don't know nothin' about strugglin' Look at TheSaurus and Illmac, yeah, look at TheSaurus, cousin They're battling for pride If they lose today they're going home with nothin' But you're too much of a p**y, a battle you won't go judgin' You'd rather be a f**ing h*mo and just vote on public Yo, who the f** is talking, bro? Yo, who's talking? A'ight, I see you're offended Because his mom is being brought up Okay, that sh** is some harsh stuff But this is battling, what do you expect? This is the type of sh** that pops up What? What?! Y'all f**ing mad his mom is brought up? I don't give a f** if they have special needs They got all types of foundations to get their guap up I don't know about y'all, but I've already donated enough money from my heart into that large cup sitting at the counter in every single Starbucks f** you! Don't ever f** up my battle! I'll pick up your b**h and I'll hump her, like my camel [Round 3: DNA] Did anybody see who he was talking to? No! Me neither, so why'd y'all think that was hot, y'all? ‘Cause you looked up there for five seconds And talked to something unknown, like a blocked call So, Diz, why do you think you getting hot And, like, you gon' grip a round? Me, DNA, I'm in Canada my first time, I'll rip the town [?] Show you how I'm the illest And I'm the realest with the sickest sound He kept mentioning Hollow, but it's like his battle with Hitman ‘Cause when I pull it out I won't miss the pound See, if y'all really think about that Now I'm gonna try to stay calm and keep my cool, b But I've been watching King of the Dot battles And I saw a dude that had potential we would soon see And I don't like bringing up people that died usually But truthfully, this f*ggot should've died instead of Bruce B You're not a shot buster, at Blockbuster you wouldn't move E You dick ride and switch sides, you a groupie I don't know that much about Canadian change But I tell y'all truthfully I know for a two dollar coin he'll be on his two knees So, Diz, why would you even start though? You act like you gangsta and you tough Like you got the heart though You a b**h, I'll have more whips at your house than a car show Smoke him down, just like a Marlboro, never at heart though Since he think he street in Canada If it's war, then I'll mark him and leave his face with a scar, bro Dizaster, I have a question: why do you rap like this? You spit no punchlines, but do all of this Why do you act like this? See, you wanna act crazy, like, you could stop with this This isn't a battle of battling This is a battle of Dizaster battling Alcoholic Anonymous He's standing here in front of Organik Thinking that he's the rapping answer And I bet you wish you can get a disease So you can battle cancer You think you're so nice so you can rap for weeks Dizaster has insomnia on purpose, so he can battle sleep I bet your grandma's 97 And listens to "Arab Money" to get her party off You make bombs so much you wake up to car alarms If your man's name was Puff Daddy Then you'd s** off Sean and John I show up to your mom's house With pepperoni on a Papa John's And take it back when she opens it and tell her it's ramadan So, n***a, why you acting tight? I heard they sling out here in Canada I seen today you stayed calm, you ain't vexed But how the hell you ever expect to be the King of the Dot? n***a, you ain't Rex See, y'all don't get how I can switch that, n***a, when he's next I broke that down, King of the Dot, Dot Mobb, T-Rex Oh, see, y'all might not get that with that bar Matter of fact, uhhh—that was okay when I make rhymes But I bet you get the bar When I let off this gun and let that K shine Ran into his crib when I set you off with that burner shoot And after that you get murdered And murdered even worse just like Murder Mook So why you keep talkin' like you the best, cuz Now I'ma get on some other sh** Disconnect your body, they won't find where your head was Now they over there with the morgue The doctors don't know where your leg was Your family come and try to see you in the morgue And they don't know where his head was Now, you looking, he's just a John Doe So when his DJ goes to make a "best of…", they gon' have to put a question mark in front of his name, like ?uestlove Now we here in this battle, Diz, so say what you say now If you act up, then come through, I'll let off that tre pound Why talk about a gun When I got dawgs on each side, like Greyhound? Beat you up to the part 'til you can't even stay now You won't have a future, like that n***a from 8 Mile Run around with the sixty And leave your body on the playground They'll be nothing but your soul left, just like James Brown Pick him up, snuff him And watch me spin money online, like PayPal And he still gonna try to rhyme ‘Cause he gon' act like he's better Dizaster, you think you so tough with these bars But I really don't think you better You can never come through and act like you fresher I found out that his sign's a crab Which means that he's a cancer And that explains why you always crack under pressure So, Diz, why you gon' act like you goin' when it's hot? How can you respect the n***a That disrespect the dude for making a song for his pops? But he gon' act crazy like he fear harder But since you mentioned my dad, you reminded me of him ‘Cause after this, y'all won't see your career goin' farther So why you wanna act like you step beat fast? n***a, I pop and leave, like dead beat dads And then he wants to talk crazy Like you come through and smash your men If I could do this then, Dizaster, we'd fight And I'd beat up this f*g again I heard Hollohan's in jail, that's all cool I wish he could be here to rap again But if y'all all know the Bible the only way God can come back is when the disaster end So how you think you dumb funny? How you just say I was scared to battle for three stacks But then you came at Drake? That's why you got young money And you never have cash when you grippin' it hard So, n***a, I'll blow your brains off, then blow your other brains off, then blow your other brains off And keep changing wigs, like Nicki Minaj It doesn't make sense, Diz? So why you think that you straight hotter? If I don't know what I'm saying when I don't make sense Well, n***a, you don't make dollars You never had money in the rows when know I'm getting silly If this don't make sense Then how come we only battled for $750? Now come through when you act like you crazy And you f** with that; tell the truth, Diz We could've battled on Smack for double that But you tried to do it here at King of the Dot And I said, "That's cool, I plan it." ‘Cause you never get nothin', you never act up and blam it You're a waste of a nut You shouldn't even belong on this planet And, truthfully, you should've got f**ed up By the cops instead of Organik So why you keep acting like you so tough Like you can spray shells? Aw, you're yawning while I'm rappin' That's all cool 'til I spray well You think that I can't do what you do I can do it better when I Raylell [?] Just think of this battle with the L.A. initials backwards ‘Cause that's what he's leaving with: a L See, Diz, you wanna keep rappin' crazy When you try to act like you flow like best But you can't come through, n***a, I put a hole like chest Now I ain't even come through to rap with it I'ma show him how Smack and quick Gon' dap this b**h after that I clap the clip He keep movin' his head back until I smack it quick You a f*ggot that I never come through and dap you, b**h! I'll run up in your crib, real too, and smack it quick And shoot him while he's writing with his pen Now that's how you air a bic And that was a half punchline, that ain't even the half of it Now I'ma switch up and talk to this n***a in Arabic Hedat, your family told me you're a maniac There's a thousand words in the Arab dictionary But my favorite one is Eddifat Ella Stasi, ‘cause these dudes wanna keep talking with the clip But after that I'm like "Pulla Misha Marka!" ‘Cause that means you're a b**h And after that I'ma say "It's getting hot in here." And Ik Fala Watchi! Y'all know what that means in Arabic Get him the f** outta here! So why this dude acting up like he playing with me? Oh, you thought we was in Canada So they wouldn't say it with me? n***a, please! Why you play inside? That slogan is like Boost Mobile, that sh**'s nationwide So why you acting crazy with the best shell These clips will make you sprint And find your body in the next tell [?] Why you keep talking like you bet for sure? Oh, you know about the hotels we in? You on the 6th and I'm on the 7th floor That's cool, n***a, so stay up After I blast with the shell, I hate to leave him on the elevator ‘Cause he'll be going on his way up So you keep rhyming, Diz Keep spitting all these bars when I clap ya Acting all hard, but see, you not a real dude, you just a actor It doesn't matter what you say ‘Cause you're gay and you just a actor You can't do what you do ‘cause, n***a please, I'm the pastor Break you down [?] crumble you're body like Ritz crackers ‘Cause I got a question y'all: what's a disaster to a rapture? He can't move it on that blink screen You so stupid you can't do what the blinks, D I k** him in f**ing 7HD, a HD, come through Turn his body soul, rip it apart and have it lookin' like gangrene f** up your soul, have your body lookin' like brinkscreen [?] I'ma teach your old teacher stupid I make greenery So after I do that when I spark fiends Shoot him in his pockets with money And you gon' see that wall green And after I do that on a nice day, hit him with that nice tre Then doctors and paramedics Gon' be having to find the right aid ‘Cause I'll run up on that whip, when I'm steerin' now I see that he's fearin' now, I clear the town Bishop Brigante ratchets I shoot it in your face and tear that mirror down You clear the town when I'm offin' the dome ‘Cause right now, please n***a, frees, top of the dome I come through—f** that! Like you said you always talk about poppin' the shone [?] But after I shoot I'ma have to off his top, like Charron And he keep thinking he coming praisin' when you on that You acting like you can freestyle And rhyme, n***a, like you move on that You say that you like rhyming nerdy But I don't get it when you cool on raps ‘Cause every battle you have with a street rapper You talk about guns like you on Smack So, Diz, how does that make sense, when it's so lovely? You said that you didn't sh** on King of the Dot And now it's so lovely Now you gon' try here get in my face and try to punk me So let's break it down On exactly what he said about this country n***a, who are you airin'? You just stand six feet tall and didn't do sh** n***a, who are you scarin'? Like, what's wrong with this dude? I had to tell him five times and maybe one time? Like, we know, you know, we both freestylers So why would you do that? So I can make a punchline? Like, I don't get it when I blam it Now back to what I was talking 'bout with Organik Like I said, right? This dude gon' act like he's on his grown sh** When I mentioned King of the Dot, you should've said something, but since you didn't I'ma rebu*tal your own sh** Like when I said you disrespected King of the Dot And that was lovely, then you should've replied Well, then Organik disrespected our country And that's when I would've told you I'm disrepectful for spittin' in your face But I got more respect for Organik ‘Cause at least he did it in our face And you p**y, you never hold the 9 and spray Like when you said "Canadians are f*ggots!" "Canadians are f*ggots!"—you did that sh** miles away So now that we here in Canada And you said they have no military, they have no healthcare And Canadians are f*ggots—say it again, Diz! [Diz: DNA's a f*ggot!] No, say it again, Diz, about Canada! [Diz: Canadians are f*ggots! *Crowd boos*] Diz, what's going on here? Things startin' to change You see you're on your way now You heard all them boos, you kinda looking like me on 8 Mile But now he acting crazy when he's poppin' it nice You tried to talk about me with Eminem droppin' the mic But you think it's all cool, somethin' somethin', the best in? Well, you just booed in front of the same presence In front of a worldwide legend So, like I said, say Canadians are f*ggots again! Repeat that! Exactly my point He ain't do it this time, because, to me, I mean that So why he keep acting crazy? Acting like he all tough blammin' a razor I just came to King of the Dot And got rid of Dizaster—I'm Canada's savior!