King of the Dot - Pat Stay vs Calicoe lyrics

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King of the Dot - Pat Stay vs Calicoe lyrics

[Round 1: Calicoe] Who here is from Boston? Cause we 'bout to get on on some boss sh** That n***a Caustic just called Arsonal "a moolie" I would've lost it Don't say nothing close to "n***a" unless you ready to forfeit Be ready to throw them hands if you gon' talk sh** Mind of a general, heart of a soldier So that just mean I call the shots but ain't afraid to take the shots I'll have you in one of them lawn bags, they'll have to rake him out You was making all them tough a** gestures to Marv...make 'em now See I know Marv', he wanted to snuff you But he was smart enough to think about taking the safest route But I get the chance to swing I'ma take it now Not giving a f** about how I make it out, police or nothing And all my n***as is coming in with me And y'all don't have to bail none of us out, my money coming to get me They was trying to book me for another battle before I was even done with this hippy But the way that they just paid that n***a Cas', I told 'em "150" Realistically...give me 50 25 up front or don't call back And I'm adding another 10 if you ask again what I charge Smack One time I was f**ed up right You know I called Smack, he gave me money to flip I took a trip and crawled back See I'm just trying to eat n***a, y'all rap Now if I ain't a hot boy then what the f** do you call that? They saying they don't like Calicoe, "He think he all that." Well why the f** wouldn't I think I'm the best n***a, these all facts Anybody can get up here and act tough as sh** Get in front of these cameras and start lying about a bunch of sh** My man just received a bunch of box like, "What the f** is this?" He just took an 80 band loss, ready to cut his wrist Right now my fans like, "That's why I f** with Cal'. He be spitting that real sh**." But yo' fans like, "How the f** are we suppose to feel this?" Which is amazing cause it's usually Caucasians that's on my pill flips These grown man bars, this is just something you gotta deal with Where you from? [Pat Stay] Darkside [Calicoe] Prolly a place that's real rich [Pat Stay] No [Calicoe] I'm from a place where you can't survive without loyal n***as and a real b**h So keep on letting 'em hype you You gon' get k**ed quick As soon as they start 'em I'ma cut 'em, b**h I'm a k** switch Aye, I didn't think y'all f** with them cars Eh, I had to pop a bar to come up with them bars Eh, I'm out of this world man, I was sent here from Mars They say the King Of The Dot fans don't want nothing but bars They say Drake was at the last battle, who gives a f** about stars? Where I'm from, we run up on them stars Plus them same n***as fans of me they run up to my cars Cause them n***as be celebrities when I pull up with them jars But you from Nova Scotia No really...you from Nova Scotia I ain't even heard about nothing on the news over in Nova Scotia I ain't never even heard of nobody breaking the rules over in Nova Scotia So he just might be the toughest dude over in Nova Scotia But this ain't Nova Scotia! I got youngins that'll take him on a roller coaster Catch him and just start giving him the whips like a show with Oprah Them choppers hanging out the window of that old school Nova coasting I popped a barbie before this battle so everything is started to go in a slower motion Which means if you swing I'ma be like Neo in The Matrix I'm Floyd, you Pacquiao, c'mon let's see your imitation I'm spazzing without no limitation Why the f** is you even in my country I don't believe in immigration? I see all the comments, yeah I see all them n***a hating But every time I accept a battle I see all them n***as waiting And I ain't saying this on no comment I'm saying after all these faces Matter of fact Pat what you got to say cause you got all these people waiting Let's go [Round 1: Pat Stay] So Organik hit up my phone like, "Yo, what you think about you vers' Calicoe, Pat?" I'm joking I f**ing hate when people start off their battle like that Eh, straight off the rip, let me make this clear You don't threaten me at all dude I don't give a f** if you come from the D, technically we all do See my senses are strong and your energy speaks volumes I watch you from the way that you walk to the costume He puts on when you talk to him Every chance he can get He constantly has to stress how he's more real than them, it's a force field effect When you feel a threat amongst you and get into defense And feel the need to start listing connects and telling war stories to get their respect I know your type Show off for the boys call your girl "a ho" Then when you and your girl alone, "I'm sorry you know I love you my little turtle toes." Right? "Want me to tickle your back my little love bug?" "Yo Calicoe!" "Hmh. Yeah that's right. s** my dick and shut the f** up." But see me I have no front And I don't need to drop names to raise mine, I have no crutch You push weight with the same set your dad throws up But got no rep without him spotting you, yeah, rack those up p**y Back on up I pack those punches that'll make your chest and backbone touch Collapse both lungs, attach mode Cut you in half with the Exacto, gut Like a mackerel and then just pick through him like an afro puff If you was a real dude you wouldn't have to act so tough If you really trapped so much you wouldn't open your trap so much If you was a G, you wouldn't dry snitch on your old man so much And if he was a G, he'd tell you to keep your damn mouth shut There's a problem with hustler's now a days, they brag so much They get stuck, too many snakes in the lawn, the gra** won't cut Your father tested the waters and look how that boat sunk And you can't absorb game with a flat old sponge, let THAT soak up I know you ain't making no real money It's like you always gotta remind us You just put it all out there like Bonnie Godiva and her sloppy soggy vagina Every song, every blog, every battle, every interview You just have to remind us of all the illegal sh** you do He makes it so easy he got the cops bored He ain't got warrants they don't even watch for him Ain't even investigating they just sit back at the station playing his new battles eating popcorn Eh look Verse one, I got a gun on me right now, got it from my man right here Alexander Wang Osborne and I got a lot more At the house, top floor, second room, on the left in the sock drawer My pops is a gangsta, my pops is a gangsta Every damn battle, all you do is praise him Why don't you be a man, look in the cam' and thanks mum And pay some respect to the one who actually raised ya We get it, we get it, he been to jail, he a real dude She's the one who built you The one you should owe, kneel to I should k** you you ungrateful ba*tard You know you damn lost Let him go cause I feel bad for this f**ing...s**y hand job, go! I literally feel bad already [Round 2: Calicoe] Who from Boston? I'm 'bout to put him in a bean box The nerve of this cracker, talking about his things pop You a 6'6" white boy from Nova Scotia...I think not n***a, your first strap was prolly a sling shot These King Of The Dot n***as, they just seem hot They living like they married to the game but got on Ring Pops This battle sh** is getting back to what it seem now I heard Surf just ran up on Roc with that infrared beam out BANG! That little n***a thinking he can f** with me Tell Smack to arrange his funeral, I'll bring his tux with me As long as these battle leagues keep bringing bucks to me I'll stand up here all day cause they just wanna talk about Lux to me Last time I was Payton Manning jumping out that Bronco This time I'm Tom Brady but look I'm throwing that [?] doe I got a Mexican riding with me, I call him "Paco" He'll murder your family for a half a pound of cilantro And a taco So many guns I got it looking like a cheat code I'm shooting before I even get to the peep hole Getting bills like Belichick so why would I ever play the game like Pete though? As soon as they see Hawks/Seahawks they know I'm going into Beast Mode I let that Mac blam til that Mac jam Aye Boston that last bar is for Pat's fam' not Pat' fans Soon as he see that hi-tech see how he act then See these backpackers slow I said I got hi-tech and I got [?] You trying to make it to the big leagues right? Turn your stats in All my shooters outta high school but they Eagles pack ten But you 6'6" and never played a sport in your life, I can't honor that You from Nova Scotia ain't no f**ing reason you ain't a scholar cat But no you wanna follow rap And saw 8 Mile, copped a squat, waiting for Eminem to battle Poppa Doc Your unathletic a** prolly look so funny trying to block a shot You prolly block a shot like this f**ing with me you have to block a shot like this The movies you be watching that's where I'm from, we hold the Glock like this You been in a room with a couple of black guys but it was not like this But just when I thought I was at the finish line They flew me to a place where they do ten a line All these white folks sipping lean All white buffs b**h I'm Mr. Clean You right, pops got knocked, but he didn't rat and go against the team Boston, he kept his mouth closed, I call him Mr. Bean So instead of hating, salute to that n***a Trying to stack it all up to drop a Coupe on that n***a When we balling in the club what we doing to n***as? They say it's lonely at the top, so how I fool with my n***as? Instead of hating, you should try to get your paper straight I wake up e'ryday on the same paper chase Don't call me on my phone, I do all my business face to face Smack ain't call me for no shows, but I be on that road state to state They showing fake love so I'ma ball til I make 'em hate And that shoe box money so cold I had to make 'em wait C'mon, let's hear what you got to say [Round 2: Pat Stay] Cal' I don't know what you think dawg but let's just get one thing straight brah Calicoe, in real life, I'd punch your f**ing face off Grip you by your neck and toss you around like a f**ing rag doll Vrooom, chainsaw, chop it straight off Like a safe call from baseball But realistically though, you outta shape dawg I'd pick you up and slam you like a little b**h, you be getting your shake on Seeing stars and hearing lullaby's, hmm that's a great song I break jaws, leave your grill leaking like steak sauce Scotia's in my blood, I'm Scotian we straight to great broads Open hand slap so strong they call it napalm You fall in love with a stank broad I wouldn't even get brains from Even on a rag you later/Regulator you like Nate Dogg b**h, you sound like a f**ing bird like Akon You got some nerve with that little sterling silver chain on Shame on you, talk about money, you'se a fake fraud You poor/pour in the hood like break fluid put your breaks on s**ers be on some f*ggot sh** Same dude who was skinny dipping with his goons taking naked pics Said there was six b**hes there, where? That sh** was Raining Men, Toranio You don't know what terrain you in But I see you brought them here with you to look all mean on cam' Half of my goons can't be seen on cam' Let alone cross the border, this isn't an environment they'd understand All they'd see is tension around me and it'd just be BAM, this ain't a habitat for them I'm glad you have your friends But real gangstas don't hang at battle rap events My dudes could be standing way in the back with all them With their eyes closed and shoot a f**ing apple off your head Just for practice Lose your top like Janet Jackson I don't mean the actress when I say I'll get a man to clap him (Amanda Clapham) You want hands, we can handle that quick You thought I taught the man gymnastics when I rip the spikes off of Black Sabbath jacket And wrap them around my hand with elastic bands and smash him He pulls off a big ole fancy back flip and lands in thee exact stance He had been standing before Macho Man Randy Savage and The Rock whoop their little candy a**es My sh** is cla**ic, like the Thriller jacket In its original package, it's still in the plastic Let's get it cracking Gorilla slap him across the mouth so hard he'll do a triple axle So that when he lands he'll complete forget it happened And wake up with a British accent Yo, talking that white boy sh** As if we're so different just cause your skin is black yeah You want some of that white privilege have it I'll grab him and give him so many little stabs in his abdomen He'll be running down the street whistling now you'll be able to get a taxi quick That's how we do [Round 3: Calicoe] Pull out y'all phones Follow me on Instagram right now Yung_Shoeboxmoney, and tell me if I ever ever mention dude They got me battling a white boy, some sh** that I never ever get to do Honestly, I couldn't even think of sh** for you They called me back with 20 I said, "I really gotta think of some sh** for dude." But I noticed something You disrespect certain n***as but you don't never get the sh** confused I ain't saying you a ho a** n***a, but you really know how to pick and choose You n***as know I'm missing screws You white boys think that Mike Brown type funny until yo' mama missing you I take her ipod and delete all the music she be reminiscing to I'm at your funeral like I'm stopping through, hugging her like Pac on Juice Warriors, there ain't a n***a with me that's not gon' shoot And I'll up they change on 'em and bang on 'em like Equal Dolla do But you 6'6" and never played a sport in your life You think that we can't tell You from Canada you couldn't make it to the CFL? Not even the NHL? Aw, he'd rather run his DSL's but this chopper like a hockey stick for him and his whole Nazi clique He tried to blend in with the crowd while I co*k my sh** You a 6'6" white boy you can not be missed {Calicoe pushes Pat Stay's hat back and drama ensues} I'm sorry y'all I ain't gon' pet lil Pat I ain't gon' touch yo' hat I'm sorry But you 6'6" and never played a sport in your life You think that we can't tell You from Canada you couldn't make it to the CFL? Not even the NHL? Aw, he'd rather run his DSL's but this chopper like a hockey stick for him and his whole Nazi clique He tried to blend in with the crowd while I co*k my sh** You a 6'6" white boy you can not be missed Keep on talking touch, I'ma rock yo sh** You prolly think you got a chance cause you been at home studying Rocky 6 So I pity the fool for whoever don't take me as a threat Eh Pat, just know my Mr. T is a Tec f** yo' money, you gotta pay me with respect I'm up about a hundred and I still be in the 'jects Boy this the mob, you look like you work for somebody's job Acting like you blamming with the Mac I can see the manager in Pat Where your mannerisms at? I got a youngin that'll slam you with the Mac as long as I keep handing him the packs Where was you at last night? Studying for me? While I was getting p**y out at Club Zone Spent so much money in that b**h we almost brought the club home They knew I wasn't from around here soon as I threw my bus on Order so many bottles of Henny, so mad they ain't had Patron But you 6'6"...it don't matter you still a big b**h I don't know if you Kurt Angle, William Regal or Rik Smits When that click click You have to worry 'bout a whole lot more than Trick Trick There's gon' be body parts everywhere The crime scene like a pig stitch It's gon' be like Neo in The Matrix, I'm Floyd you Pacquiao C'mon let's see your imitation I'm spazzing without no limitation I don't even know why the f** you in my country I don't believe in immigration I see them n***as on them comments I see all them n***as hating But every time I accept a battle I see all them n***as waiting And I ain't saying this on no comment, I'm saying that to all you n***as faces Pat why you ain't got disrespectful yet, you got all these people waiting His first time in America, I made him feel what? (Cause there's a difference between metaphors and real rap Landslide!) [Round 3: Pat Stay] Don't sweat it That sh**'s all battle rap sh** it don't bother me He knows this is a business, nothings going on it's so obsolete Cause he don't wanna box with me See, we both got the reach but these will make you float off your feet Cold clock you, rock you to sleep You drop to your knees I do a crow hop and clean kick his f**ing dome off cross the street Pick it up, spin it on my finger whistling the Globe Trotters theme music Throw on some old soccer cleats, control-alt-delete, reboot it But now I'm mad that my cleats ruined I'm yelling at him like an avid sports fan when my team's losing So I just keep booting Leave you with, a knot in your head as if it got a good beat to it Go to your funeral asleep through it Ask a hospital if they have the audio to your flat line and could I please use it Loop it, bump it in my Jeep on repeat and just creep to it G-G-G-G-Unit [Poison Pen] He's stupid. Hahaha [Pat Stay] Eh, that rhymes with "he's stupid" Stereo over my shoulder rolling down the beach booming Even slap it on my iPod when I'm Ski-Dooing Bike past your moms like "Oh, how's he doing?" You think I'm just a joker though? I robbed a dude who looked kinda like you for this whole sh** From the toaster to the baby stroller True story Had to collect a debt from dude Ran up in his house with the toaster, left with two Real sh** hold up Cal', what you know about seeing a beef? Busting a 40 over his head Bottom half of the bottle smashing you still holding the neck Then go for his neck Leave the party go home to bed, sleep like a baby, don't even know if he's dead Cold as it gets I actually saw the guy not long ago You know what he said? He said it's been nine years and I have nightmares to this day I can't get that outta my head It just plays in my brain over and over again, I'm an emotional wreck And I said "I'm sorry" and what's messed Is I didn't even know what he was talking about until he reminded me These are the stories I forget! But those are my high school days I remember when I copped that nice new blade with the light blue frame sh** would slice right through veins To be honest it gives me anxiety now, I'm not trying to brag What I'm trying to say, if it's ever that I'm afraid It's of myself cause I know how fast I'll snatch your f**ing life away Yeah, that white boy rage sh** haunts me you couldn't fight this pain I'm ashamed of the lives I've changed You shoot a dude with a little deuce deuce in the side of the leg and think you violent eh? Try beating a man so bad you paralyze his brain And when he sees you he yells But his caretaker can't tell he's trying to say Now did I just rat on myself all over youtube like you do? Or am I just making sh** up like the rest of these dudes do? You choose See I'm too smooth, look, who knew? Patty Stay got a little deuce deuce too Shoot through a pillow to muffle it, feel that buck under it And you ain't even have a loose tooth The battles over Thanks for coming out y'all