Grind Time Now - PH vs Madness lyrics

[Round 1: Madness] For those that don't really know me, Tony's the name I been here since the beginning When we coined this place the O-Zone, holding the flame sh** I just turned thirty three And for me I feel like I'm getting too old for this game It's like age... and rap... Wait, motherf**er ain't you like forty and change? sh**, bro, you like Head I.C.E age Or the Ice Age Your f**ing kids? ...My age But acting like you tough when I coulda just handled Quantum Physics And you're Puerto Rican, so I know your blood type is Honda Civic Your broad all on my didick until it explode like a bomb is in it If it's beef I put my fist all through this p**y like an obstetrician But he type nice sometimes So if you wanted to doubt him, yo you couldn't But it's no Secret, PH is pretty balanced, for a woman But I'm connected everywhere I go like an unlimited data plan You're a zero, so you can scream 'til You're blue in the face like Megaman Or I come strapped with that Machete like Trejo, Dan And put that blade through your f**ing fade like a Raiders fan In jail? You-PC, that bar cold (barcode), get checked out when the laser scan With that pipe spitting fire, like I played a jazz flute in Anchorman [Round 1: PH] Just to set it off, in this battle sh**, I'm an an*lyst Bars crafted with the same Dizaster-ous Patterns that conquered Canibus No for forty pages, but for damn near forty years I been the man 'n sh** So too bad if you mad For what I'm about to do to this Madness kid Bow to your sensei From 20 paces, I put your light out like a candlewick I saw your girl's body She's what I call a magic trick She's about my bars and balls — that's a abacus I don't push a Acura Legend But they say I'm a Legend, and that's Ac-urate You're an MC that part times as a comedian just for battling Who takes more back shots than slave sadomasochists do from master's whip Man up Madness, before I ma**acre who you mashing with That goes for Joe Cutter, Dirtbag Dan, and yeah Frank Stacks is a b**h Your Cali crew will pull a switcheroo and get rid 'a you It's Common Sense Your Westside Connection will see the b**h In Yoo I'm not one of you jokey a** rappers. I hope you ain't mistook me You think you a Battle Cat, well if that's the fact Well I'm He-Man Cause I'm used to riding on you big pussies He thought I was gonna creep solo, in a Jeep dolo But I came with three cholos One look like Madd Illz, the other two Look like Jonny Storm and Jee Polo They gon' catch Tone on the corner, like an off the hook payphone Break bones on bums, you know, out of place, holmes I got a crazy ratchet, and when I model her sh**'ll get ugly like Grace Jones [Round 2: Madness] You owe me a hundred dollars Cause I bet Frank Stacks you wouldn't choke against PoRichard And you such a dyke h*mo Every time you play ro-sham-bo, you only throw scissors Yo, welcome to Orlando you giant Puerto Rican Easter egg sh** compared to you, Tone is fly, my dick's Cobra Ky Why? Cause it sweep the leg I should let a chainsaw rape your face Like a scene from the Evil Dead Decapitated so everyone in I-4 can see your head Hanging where there used to be the sign for Merita bread (What up my people??) See everybody here know me, Tony G Up a couple drinks, I'm like the O-Zone Ol' D.B And if this f*ggot got a issue I'ma straighten him out like I got OCD You old as sh** Probably making muffins or a baker's dozen But you ain't f**ing with my bread This old man probably all... out of breath... From the thoughts running through his head Chilling at his mom's rest Talking to kids about battling's infinite conquests But always stops to yell, "Get off my lawn!" But he still lives in the projects You graduated with Tito Puente And got your yearbook signed by Don Francisco Plus you were watching Sabado Gigante... When it was Sabado Chiquito I pull the small heart out of this Decep' like the All-Spark How are you unique When you look like every f**ing Puerto Rican at BVL Wal-Mart? But I grew up around Boricuas and I love em to d**h So just play along, y'all, it's all part of the gag Acting like you hard Son your crew got one less star than your flag PH - Round 2 He gets his material from 1980s comedy movies Way to be original So he gets Big, this Naked Gun'll have you Trading Places I'm not kidding you Torso in the basement Neck and face in the living room You'll catch 9 irons out that Caddy Shack If you go for Easy Money, I'm k**ing you He moved to Cali, and left his partner in rhyme in Florida That was Critical Your bars vers' High Collide was cheap vodka That's when you hit your Pinnacle I'll front like I'm giving you dap and start shivving you Cut puzzle pieces out your face like Mystikal Album cover for Unpredictable Damn, I'm nice, I put words and phrases into a centrifuge You rap jokes, buddy, my bars 'll put an end to you; Stomp you in the ground till smoke and sparks travel into you And there's a crater under your body Like a Terminator was sent for you It's about to Rain in Southern California; I'll k** all your phony homies And split you in three, so all we'll see is Tony, Toni, Toné I'm a pimp though, got your limp hoe by her piss hole Have her shouting out more than a Carter Deems intro The South had a movement You could've been on But you traded yourself to the West and your buzz got piss warm Then he Lurch back, hoping they add I'm (Addam) To the Family, but the love, Cousin, it's gone Your last name is Gomez so it's only right you kiss arms [Round 3: Madness] See I can't even go hard on PH Cause that's my homie and he type cool I got all my references from 80's movies They came out when you were in high school If I rapped like you, I would rape myself It's like your style is fractured pieces of something It's a decent a**umption that we're not impressed with raps that Sound like f**ing Ikea instructions (But he's "Big", uh, I could do that. Yo.) I got that Foot-long on him, so don't try to be a hero (gyro) I go for broke like I'm Po', Boy, a Grinder with this Torpedo Your girl? I'ma Bomb'er, cause I'm a Engineer with the Zingers As soon as we Meet-balls, and I had my salami All in that chicken fingers I mean for real What the f**, I gotta put it in subtitles? Foot-long, gyro, po' boy... Motherf**er I just k**ed you with Sub titles But I ain't wanna do you like this Cause he my boy, but hey, he ain't got him a choice Your parents regret having you... because they wanted a boy In battle rap, he wave his hand cause he the ultimate dick s**er You were gonna battle Getcha But you look like f**ing Getcha's big brother (And I stole that line from him outside motherf**er!) [Round 3: Pumpkinhead] What's popping Tone? You not spitting proper, Tone You're a Colombian who thinks he's Italian You wouldn't be a Soprano, even if you sang opera, Tone You put three albums out, only one person would cop it, Tone Stop it, Tone, I'm a monster that'll pop ya And tan ya til you're coppertone You're not fire, b**h, you're a snitch A copper, Tone The real Tone from Florida is Deff Your voice? Ehh You're not even the proper Tone Why you even here though? KOTD stop calling you bro? Tried rapping serious for once and The math you added actually got you subtracted by Uno? You self-hating race traitor Leading a double life like there's two Tones Brown on the outside, white on the inside... n***a you two-tone He done sh** out here To make y'all laugh for cash like Silent Library But he moved to Cali, cause that's where he can Come out the closet and keep all his silent lies buried I pray to the lord, cause you a non-believer So I'm like "Yo, I know he wrong He traded a chance Peek-at-chu just to Poke-a-mon." What'chall want, a champion that'll use the belt to bring order Or a joker that'd use it as a gag gift that shoots water? You want the resurrection led by a man That never turned his cheek on a brand Or a n***a that at the first signs of adversity He travels to another land and turns his back on the fans?