Big T (Battle Rapper) - Bender vs Big T lyrics

[Round 1: Bender] Now when he didn't show up to Blackout, I thought "damn, what you do that for?" You a grown-a** man and then some, f**ing your fans over? That's bad form King of the Dot was ready, performance fee, hotel, and transport But with two months notice this lazy f** couldn't go apply for a pa**port I wore down this hatchet head, now there's nothing but the handle left From chopping down the forest needed to build your f**ing casket with Happy Easter! I'm not too religious, to me that sh**'s all superstition But I will have blood running down a Big T like a crucifixion My music teachers were Schoolly D and Louis Prima You doing tributes to Aretha, you the hugest diva I'm feeling like the Cuban leader that overthrew Batista I could rule for fifty years, I think it's time I threw my feat up And this here's the new Katrina, that's real Cause when I kick his leg out you gon' see a useless FEMA/femur I use my sneakers to leave you with mutant features like a sewer creature Baptized in every cubic liter of nuclear seepage of fuel to leak from Fukishima You're speaking to a reaper I brought angles to supersede (super seed) you like Monsanto Want battle? You get ethered, I brought ammo like John Rambo Jesus Christ! If he really think he half as slick as me He's coming down on 'Ye/yay harder than the fashion industry Big T, you big, T, but you ain't got no BIG in ya I'm nice, I got Jesus Christ looking like Caligula Uppercut take off half your grill like Richard Harrow With a hook that'll take your brain out your face like an Egyptian Pharaoh See Terry's not calling the shots, if Terry starts something I'ma draw up at Terry's spot concocting a terror plot Think he ballin' like Terrence Ross, Terry's softer than Terry Fox Turn Terry to Terry Fox, take his leg and just tear it off See Terry got nothing, can hear his heart pumping Sound like the Terror Squad when I'm marathon running Watch him black out like he aerosol huffing When I put a bag over top his head like carry-on luggage f** it, I'll put your home address on blast just out of spite So every week you can get that G-check at your front door, that's lucky for life sh**, thanks for showing up Your gun noises better be on point cause mine are cold as f** Bing! [Round 1: Big T] Yo, I knew he was gonna say I got a whole bunch of gun rhymes, it's typical I got gun sounds and a whole bunch of punch lines that's typical But I'd rather be part of a one-dimensional gun rhyme punchline festival Than some bis**ual telling you to s** my genitals See I know what he gon' say to get this b**h going He gon' say Big T look like one ignoramus six-four inch Gin pouring, b**h whoring and Tim Horton... sh**'s boring me, having me and my clique snoring But I guess if I said it in his form it'll have this b**h roaring Y'all sayin' he a lyricist is hoe sh** All he do is throw a whole bunch of syllables on sh** And most the sh** this hoe spit be making no sense See y'all could be pretending it's like he come up with some dope sh** But I see why y'all call him Bender, cause he force a lot of sh** that don't fit You get his hoe, send her over Like, "yo, is Al Bender over?" I'll bend her over That b**h be mad the way Al be in there Cause every time she say, "Al, be in there" She don't even think Al be in there That boy swing charge like an EBT card That boy miss? That boy gon' sing like Chico DeBarge You miss? You see stars, another reason why they call him Bender Cause he about to be in the ER You fat f**er! Quiet, man [Round 2: Bender] When it comes down to the wire, I'm surprised he's able to spit his verses When Prop Joe saw Cheese walk in the building, he started getting nervous The only trap house you ever seen was watching The Sound of Music Judging by how you bullsh**, you must think these crowds are stupid Prop Joe, you don't clock dough, you funny son of a b**h Just cause you built like the Kool-Aid man does not mean you're running through bricks Listen, you Chicago's bummiest pimp, how the f** you stack skrilla? Heard your bottom b**h got a limp and a gum line like Mac Miller And one eye like Jack Thriller, but she always manage to get work Probably scared if she don't, he'll go and eat the b**h like Big Lurch Listen turkey-tits, I ain't come to ruffle your feathers I pluck 'em, gut 'em, and stuff 'em and sew the c*nt back together Spill your blood so it gush in a flood your cup couldn't measure Have you losing more quarts/courts than a f**ing public defender Son I'm up for whatever, you got a screw loose, Bruce Bruce? You really think we give two sh**s about your, deuce deuce? Shoot yourself in the mouth like the Fight Club movie b**h, put your lips on your Desi/Dese' let's play I Love Lucy I'm feeling like Rocky, ain't talking no Pretty Flacko f** a Tommy gun, these fists is Drago mixed with Apollo Now I'm back in LA, got explosives stacked up to detonate And leave you underground like when 50 pa**ed on your demo tape I be on my business, you be on your first spaghetti plate I murder every page I touch, then burn him worse than Freddy's face I got the urn already, hey, let's see if he worth the mess he made When this curved machete blade turns this heavyweight To a writer sent to an early resting place like Earnest Hemmingway I'm that tidal wave that comes after you feel the quake in the ground No words escape from your mouth as you're washed away and you drown You shoulda learned in the Surf battle, when they announced his name to the crowd Put a T in front of a Tsunami, it should not be making a sound So let P.M. Dawn Corleone rhyme about letting the heat pop While he does his signature move, the "I'm a little teapot" I carve my name in your face, that's a signature move done right My finishing move leave no one in your circle left upright I could have went fairly light in Toronto and spared your life But for wasting my time I'm going off at Vendetta here tonight Let's get it [Round 2: Big T] You are the lamest dude I ever battled When I was beefing, you probably was raising cattle Placed with camels, singing Amazing Grace in flannels, playing piano While I was trying to get the gun raised to handle You was probably playing onesies in red and green Christmas flannels I go to your crib, take a sh** in the ladies bathroom Get on your pop's robe, favorite sandals, change the channel He look at me like, "hey guy, I was watching that!" I take my hands, cup 'em, "b**h! Now you watching SMACK!" Yo! I ain't trying to display where I stay it's real But where I'm from, K's get peeled, graves get filled, the teenage get k**ed Where you from you say "poutine," I guess that's some sh** you make in a meal Where I'm from you hear pew-TING! That's bullets ricocheting from steel It's real! And it's one, two, and knock the front two tooth in your front loose Boy I son you, the same T that brought war to Sun Tzu I shoot your b**h right up in front of you So you gon' be feeling right at home when I aim this can at her/Canada It be nowhere to run to/Toronto I dismember Bender, y'all remember Bender? Yeah, Bender send the vid' to get the kids to listen to ya Pressed to enter, but wasn't nobody impressed from the words that you get from Bender All I heard was a bunch of flipper-sipper da blimper bimper ba blibber jibber His punches hit, but don't do damage, now you a fender bender f**ing s** offender Bender, Quiet! [Round 3: Bender] This round I'm back on my monster sh**, it's how I seized the title Got flown to the Philippines and went out to see the Eiffel You did that Slaughterhouse battle and choked, you was just down to meet your idols But your shot went down the drain like the shower scene in Psycho Noah's Ark baby, got two Llamas on deck *spit* bobbity-bloop bloop! Pop in the clip The kick back will have you moon walking like Chewbacca And knock you off the roof like 2Pac in this b**h Rah rah bloopity choo choo! Launched at your crib Boo blocka and sh**? Cool off with that bit You sound like a retard, fool, stop with that sh** Boo boo! Your whole style's a party trick You're known for sound effects more than any actual bar you've spit This is retribution, it's more than a rebel movement After T gets taxed, we'll dump him in a harbor, that's a revolution! I stay sharper than a train yard fighter I'm J.R. Writer spliced with H. R. Giger Betting against me ain't smart, I've got my brain hardwired Eight large says you'll be sleeping under K-Mart flyers You tryna lock jaws with Godzilla Watch me Ice T and lay the law down like a Cop k**er This tough guy's hostile? Said he keep that heat by his side? b**h you're a plus sized model, we'd never see you squeeze in a nine Show up with a switchblade at your grandma's, doing angels' work Spit in the trick's face, stick her rib cage, twist the blade in her Fifth day you cremating her, just wait, I'ma take the urn Dump it on the table and *sniff* Rick James the remains of her I Brady Bunch your whole clan, got a box for each one When I take your fam and tape 'em up in a van like a Partridge re-run Your ugly granny, mommy, daddy, uncle, aunty, cousin Tammy Doug and Sammy, plus your Pappy, understand me? f** your family Bring me someone with bars! I'm too clever I feel like Hugh Heffner with a huge heffer, I could do better In fact, from here on in, I'm only battling legends So next time tell The Saurus I'm coming back with a Vengeance [Round 3: Big T] Yo, I take the biggest n***a you know and pulverize him Slam dunk, post to riser Hit his Facebook, notarize then rub it in like moisturizer You look like a Greg Morganheimer, put ninety seconds on the time And I'ma roast his a** like chestnuts on an open fire How you gon' put a compulsive liar verse' the ? I take your b**h, porcupine her, spit yellow and green cold saliva in that hoe lasagna Then make you eat the whole lasagna I was born in the 80s, Chitown birthed the baby One hostage team will give him a hot sixteen, and it ain't no verses from Shady Only person I'm cool with from King of the Dot is Hollohan Cause I sold crack and he purchases daily But I put Bender and Pat on they back like I was burping a baby It's crazy saying he best to me That's weak next to me, I see weakness, if he died Boy I'd take it in stride, that's a deep breath Anybody saying that he best Is the difference between spelling Obama and Osama's first name... that's BS This weak mess, this f*g was fiending to go to jail He said "Where's the biggest f*g in San Quentin, and lead me to his cell." The gayest thing he did as well He said that he wanted to get held for ransom just cause they leave they fingers in braille I get this maggot surrounded, it be mad guts around him With maggots around it and mag guts around it It's all cool 'till the mac gets a round in And he red like a mood ring when somebody mad gets around it It's on contact Bender, call combat So you'd better calm that down, or we gon' find where I placed that bomb at We pray on y'all like a Islam mat Llama clap, and had boy sleep like an insomniac I put rubbing alcohol in the lens you get your contacts On 4/20, I'll get you off contact But won't let you hit the weed, or sip the cognac And put rubbing alcohol in the way that you put your contacts I catch him there up in the Jeep creeping He three cars back so he up in the Jeep sleeping I don't know right where he live, so I tail him to the crib Cause if tail him, I gotta k** him like a deep secret Quiet!