NoCanDo - Nocando vs Dizaster lyrics

[Round 1: Nocando] You need to realize that real life is just like high school You're still an underachiever and nobody likes you You a target, acting like you been a violent creature n***a, you've been sh**ted on since Rev Run and DMC was singing My Adidas I hang with city kids that stay fly til they die like Aaliyah You run with a whole crew full of b**h a** n***as, a bunch of Madeas You try to act sick, like you're Grind Time's Hannibal Lecter But on the inside you're softer than a handful of feathers To beat you, I don't have to be tactical ever I'll be practical; pressure You're so much of a b**h that if you ran away from home you're come home pregnant at the animal shelter I remember when you were in nursing school and you dropped out cause you couldn't handle the pressure Or maybe your medication from the manic depression made it hard for you to understand all the lectures I know a b**h in the valley that says that you like two fingers up the a**hole and a paddle for pleasure While you wear thigh high leg warmers and sing "You drive me crazy" in that Fine Young Cannibal texture We're in Florida so maybe you should get your flow tighter With all your hibbidy bibbidy ribbity staccato syncopations you could be ghostwriter for FloRida You just gotta learn to control your voice and get the grooves in your verse You're already wearing Apple Bottom jeans now it's time to buy the boots with the fur [Round 1: Dizaster] Real talk, no matter what you do my flow's liver You said I'm the ghostwriter for FloRida But you so white bro you sound like the ghostwriter for Fort Minor I said, I met you back in 2001 and back then we was young We never thought the scene would become this sh**, we used to battle for fun And no matter what route we took, and no matter what either one of us seemed t do At the end, somehow it always ends up being me and you So f** you for all the times I got jerked when I ethered you You little f**ing f*ggot b**h Well listen I'm an Al-Qaeda activist slash Middle Eastern data an*lyst I'm in my caves blasting sh** They try to send his a** to the Florida for anger management And I raped a Spanish b**h Whoever gave you your fashion tips was on 800 acid hits Motherf**er you ain't making no cla**ic hits And if you are then I'll take your master mix and beat you in the face with it til I crack the disc Drink a gallon of camel piss In Los Angeles, he told Dirt he had the style Illmaculate Bo-Rat and Pa**wurdz bit When I first heard it I reacted quick But come to realize he sold me a bag of sh** Motherf**er you haven't been active since The battle rapping scene was ran by Brits And even back then in '07 when this f*ggot quit Then left over bars you had for the Jumpoff establishment Are probably the same ones you debuted on Grind Time and battled Madness with That's how wack this kid actually is In L.A. you ain't sh** without the dick riders that stick to your side Who constantly convince you that your sh** is fly And to cover up the fact that you're a struggling artist that's barely even getting by I know your diet consists of sniffing lines And the reason I know this is cause I have a mutual friend that's done it with you at least like 50 times I know your fricking kind You're the type to ditch the try tip and skip the chicken thighs You look like all you had for dinner time was a little bit of fries You're the only dude that goes to Wendy's and order's mini size Every picture that you're in is minimized You've been a skinny guy since Biggie died And this is why, I'm never with the chinky eyed Ayo, flash back to Lyraflip doing a Slip N Slide inside of Intuitions ride The first time you ever seen Intuition's chest hair You were thinking, "Damn, I should probably build a nest there." Name a department in the world and Nocan' is willing to rock a set there Unless they're selling men's wear [Round 2: Nocando] This was a verse that I was gonna save for later I grew up with you You went from backpacker, to Juggalo, to raver to angry gangster Wait, they're laughing, but you can switch your style but on the inside you can't change your flavor Even back in 2003 after you spit your punchlines you looked all intense and start breathing hard like you just threw a f**ing kamehameha I bet you, when you're battling, you're imaging you're in a first person shooter Look, I can see you f**ing in a John Woo style movie Doing a no handed cartwheel, rolling into a shoulder spinning advancing into a back flip Hoping behind the f**ing trash can and a cabinet Picking up both ratchets, reloading the Mags Then hopping out the back of them like, "Die you f*ggity f*ggot!" So about that coke sh**... For me to beat a dude as delusional as you, I have to imagine I'm in a Japanese animated movie So I'm not Nocando, I'm actually a cyborg made from reconstructed an*log recording equipment and an old beat up hooptie n***a, I'm not Nocando, I'm a twenty ton terror on top of Tokyo Towers with two titanium tentacles n***a, one of them reach half way to Jarajuku asphyxiating yo' b**h Slapping her in the face while the other one going up her a** while she gasps and doesn't fit turning into half a dozen dicks Real talk, no more joke lines You spit a bunch of written sh** that was about 400 bars in a week, you were doing the coke line As far as me, I agreed to this battle drunk in Detroit in no time n***a, you were sweater than the tea in the south And I know you wrote something about Detroit cause you used to keeping the D in your mouth It's all freestyle Remember, you were in Krack City Do you still hang out with Avi and Daylyt still? You remember that time f**ing with me you almost got Daylyt k**ed? Oh yeah, this motherf**er It was over on the west side a bunch of bullsh** This n***a Daylyt said he was gonna shoot me you hand him the gun but at home you left the bullets No, this is a true story Your whole life you've been a suburban wigger watching the internet living too corny And there's nothing you can do for me I take this sh** easy, I got my own hype man If this wasn't accapella I'd use your nose as my mic stand That was freestyle that was good damn it [Round 2: Dizaster] If that was a freestyle wouldn't have to tell them but anyways He said that was a f**ing freestyle That was no motherf**ing freestyle, that was a waste of my motherf**ing time So if you think about it, you technically owe me now And by the way that's a niche watch, what is that a G-Shock? Anyway, how about telling your fans why you look like an African American rabbi Motherf**er I feel like I'm battling with Soul Khan's black side Yeah you do look like Soul Khan's black side f*ggot If Fresco ever met God before he was born and had a chance to be a black guy He'd request to look like that guy You know the type that seems like they're half white and freestyles cause they can't write? Yep, that guy Motherf**er, you like surfing, swimming, biking and hiking and you hang glide Congratulations f*ggot, you're almost as black as Franchise He keeps his pants tight like Kid Twist when it's dance night Motherf**ing James you're so damn white I bet in your past life you lived in a half pipe Wait a minute, that's not a white kid, you are darker than gingivitis You are darker than a flock of Somalian pirates You are darker than Marcus Garvey's iris You are as dark as Marlon Wayans but only cause you're also a White Chick Muhf**a you're darker than Arsonal when the cops hit the light switch Muhf**a, you're so dark you remind me of the night stick that almost took Rodney's life with Yo, I know this is cliche to say but y'all still gon' like this When I reach into your soul and pull out a white b**h You moved out from LA to the Bay so your own folks consider you a joke wow Another real reason you moved out to the O Town Is cause you stop getting respect in your own home town Now that he's in 3-05 I bet Florida is your boys now But when he's in New York he's also known as Troy Brown I said I spit lead and I never miss Double gauge barrel Beretta make your belly twist like Method Man on some Belly sh** This dickhead should've been dead ever since the second diss I'm in this chick's bed getting big head like a jelly fish The semi spits and leaves you with a skinhead like supremacist Whatever b**h, we both from L.A. but not to go and disrespect the sh** But Project Blowed buzz been dead like Sega Genesis I do have some sh** about Red Bull, yeah I know The Bay is your home And you know they gave you the throne cause you're homeboys with motherf**ing Aceyalone Yeah, go ahead predict a bar That shows and confirms the fact that even you know how much of a b**h you are I wanna show y'all why freestyling, you should do it I mean come on it really isn't hard I'll f**ing slice your wrist with a ninja star You look like a fricking Snicker bar I caught this motherf**er in a San Francisco bar with his hand dipped in the tipping jar You're so skinny when you get injured in a car you'll walk out looking like you got injured in a spar Whatever f** it [Round 3: Nocando] This whole battle, you had nothing but Grind Time references Because without Grind Time you would never exist So Project Blowed I've been touring since I was 19 And since then you were at home practicing on your battle rhyme schemes Low End Theory, going to Japan, France and maybe even London What the f** have you done then? Look, I was sent here by the Save A Kid Foundation By a Canadian, Vietnamese teenage dying cancer patient He told me to tell you you're a b**h to your face He's a b**h-Timmy Look, you're only a disaster to your parents and race relations The last time you went to get Chinese food You opened a fortune cookie and it said, "Watch out. You 'bout to get raped by 80 Asians." BAM! Next thing you know you woke up in bukaki-palooza Jizz all over your bushy brow Dumbfoundead on the sideline screaming "I tried to stop him!" Jin's whispering in your ear like, "Who's the p**y now?" Look, you can be overly theatrical and yell and act like you're doing something But when you do that I just see the stereotype of an overbearing American Jewish woman It's just like nothing but changing your voice, hand gestures, that annoying rap persona It's nothing but the girl from Fraiser, Fran Drescher and George Costanza's mama Look, I know some Asian kids in Korea Town that said told me to tell you to get prepared for a chin check Cause they've been waiting to slap a JAP since World War II And you're nothing but a Jewish American Princess Wait, wait, wait and I'm not done Your whole battle is about my career but you don't even got one You said I sniff coke with your homies, you have imaginary friends, I don't do coke Look, real talk, you wanna be me I'm a smart guy from a neighborhood riddled with d** and gang violence And you can act like you don't wanna be like it But that's the reason right now you're silent You're thinking of rebu*tals seeming a little befuddled But after this I'll punch you in stomach until I make a little mud puddle Oooh That's the girl your face makes every time I stick my dick in her I'm like a constellation and she's the Big Dipper You wanna freestyle but you can't even do it right Talking about I get mini-size I get supersize In this country you're a terrorist you don't truth in rights You can lose your life like it's suicide I'll beat you black, then brown, then blue and white And then open the phone book and find some other sh** to do tonight n***a, you live with your parents and make money by walking your mother's poodle And by "phone book" I meant I'll go on Google It's over [Round 3: Dizaster] Yo, I am sick of people talking about my parents You bring my parents I'ma start decking you I'd rather live with my parents and not have to pay when the rent is due Then live with three of my children that I never have time to pay attention to You live in Oakland, I'll pull up to your spot bumping Dr. Dre Leaning out of that window let that Glock clap away And leave your body on the Dock Of The Bay But I'm not a singer like Marvin Gaye Or Lotta Zay This some sh** that I gotta say Like "f** you and your favorite holiday" I'll send your daughter's to you in a casket with half of her neck gone away like Jon Benet And on the box it'll say "Happy Father's Day" I'll let the di-di-di-di-di-di chopper spray And you'll be like Run DMC, "Why do I Walk This Way?" He brings up personals against me I didn't wanna bring personals But that's what I have to do if I have to defeat you I mean I have to actually beat you Your persona is see through Battle rapping can't feed you You did this battle for free too? Take your f*ggot a** home Nocan' you family needs you This motherf**er is my [?] And when I battled The Saurus, you were on the phone listening to it And when you heard I was beating him, I bet your soul collapsed Cause growing up, me and you had the same goal for that But you salty, I just did it before your a** You modeled your style after Pete, your formations, your whole attacks You told me when you'd feel down about losing your battles you'd uplift your soul by listening to The Saurus rap And I know we're homies Peter but c'mon dawg, how f**ing corny is that? You entered WRC, got smoked in that Blamed your boy Rheteric and said he hold you back Then you had a chance to rematch him in Scribble for a sh** load of cash And he simultaneously owned your a** See what I'm getting at Is WRC is over, Scribble is over, a rematch, there's no more hope for that So the motto at the end of the story is that You'll never ever get a chance to get The Saurus back All I f**ing Know Is That! Make some noise, what do you mean make some noise? I'll pick your face up and break your boy This motherf**ing f*ggot is about to get hurt I can't stand little f**ing wienies skinny in yellow shirts I'ma treat this muhf**a like he's never been sh** Why y'all f**ing laughing I still haven't got to punch Stop lifting your f**ing eye- Y'all motherf**ers are throwing me off Listen, I said one day, you gon' learn this I keep heat like a thermos, burn through your epidermis Leave you submerged in a furnace like Jews getting murked by Germans You're the reason they call us nerds and you deserve this This herb is herbless your punchlines have no surface you're worthless You're the definition of what Aye Verb's perm is The vermin go get murdered for certain I'll make a DVD of your mother swerving and slurping My s**m, then I'll call it The Return Of The Turban So who is liable, the eye of a k**er, ego maniacal, I'll fight a gorilla Undeniable sk** prior to Thriller you a liar for real Like Charles Hamilton when he said he was riding with Dilla If you know [?] in the mirror I said "f** you" you bring up my culture, I'm not gonna have it I'll bomb your car while you in traffic I'm an Islamic fanatic I'll put a Nocando in a box and Iron Solomon is a f*ggot!