Dwoyo - Hand Down lyrics

[Radio Host] Aaaand we're back on the D-Low, where we're bringing you the hottest Hip-Hop in the game. That was Dwoyo spitting over Cole's banger "Fire Squad," and we actually got Dwoyo in here with us today [Dwoyo] Yes sir [Radio Host] Coming by to chill, talk sh** for a little bit. But, first he's here to let fans know what real rap is all about, and take on our hand down challenge. (Marc Jackson "hand down man down" snippet) Five beats, one after the other, just one take. You ready to show us what you got? [Dwoyo] I'm ready [Radio Host] You nervous? [Dwoyo] I mean, nah, I like having an open mic on me [Radio Host] Alright, let's get it to it then. Live on the air, Dwoyo, hand down challenge, only on the D-Low! Talk that sh**! [Verse 1] Look Soundcloud's got me inspired The more I hear these wack rappers, the more I wanna spit fire Dwoyo know I'll never let it expire I'm going Kevin Gates, n***a I don't get tired Mic check, one two one two Tryna make my art permanent, I spit tattoos With the ink I could murder and make a beat taboo You spit sh** over clean beats? That's shampoo f** a mic check, one take, drive through, no breaks Up late, tryna give my fans and I an update You get what you put in If you go soft to get the cream, all your gonna get is pudding I'm tryna put a foot in, just testing the waters But everybody's tryna jump in, so why bother? Mitt's got me thinking, I ain't sinking, I'll be swimming These binders full of rhymes gon get me binders full of women Flew past the minor leagues, out of double A At 19, I already had my double A You bragging bout grades? Ain't ever heard of that But my degree or rap will get me paid, and that's a fact Ima tell the whole world I got money b**h New balance on the account, yeah I run it b**h This the, silver spoon feeding y'all a ton of sh** Come out with a hundred hits and still I'm never gonna quit [Verse 2] Soft breeze with the palm trees, boy I live for this Dexter running the city, n***a I k** for this Love music, stay grinding, hope I make a mill with this I ain't gon expire, so I might as well keep milking this Got Miami dudes waiting on a mixtape I got Tally n***as thinking that my sh**'s great Others hating on my looks, hating on my tone Throw tomatoes at em fore he reach the microphone I'm bout to set the bar higher, do you understand me? The only bar you raisin's prolly gonna be a xanny So pop it off with some alcohol and just go to sleep When I finish with you, you'll want this gone from your memory Murder every beat, instrumentalcide Put a check next to my verses cause they certified Ask any of my boys and they could testify I'll give a quick freestyle if you ain't satisfied Instrumentalcide, who's got the most d**hs? Someone should do the mathematics while I count what's left Of every beat that I just k**ed just yet, I've got mad flows Wack rappers just finger popping each others essholes I know a girl who said her favorite game was Smash Bros Listened to Mario, I told her lemme smash, yo! Shots to the face was the remedy Roommate waking up, I got her singing melodies [Verse 3] Oooh I'm so rude with it I forgot you told me that you were prude and sh** Acting new to this, like when you saw it you didn't know what to do with it Put me in a licky lullaby, bye-bye And no longer am I that shy guy Pretty b**hes with highlights make up most of my highlights She had me on the wall, then we bounce like it's jai alai Buzzing off on these mai tai, now she grabbing on my tie Fratboy I'm living the life, why lie? I can't say the name, but just know it rhymes with I fly sh**, I should probably take it more serious Feeling delirious, bumping Bryson, I see the horizon Drank so much I almost died, but that ain't surprising Even when I'm hungover, I knock em out like Tyson Green eye of the tiger, I know it's so enticing I'm getting Buffalo Bills, I tell you boys Bison! Shoutout to my boys, hear me at my best But even at my worst they always seem to be impressed And it's bros before hoes, unless I pull a chick that's so tight, I might even let the compress Now you wanna call me lame my n***a? If she's all up on your dick, you'd do the same my n***a You should know which girls are fair game my n***a I ain't gon say names, but that's a shame my n***a [Verse 4] Rondon know the deal, so he did it for Seur Let him smash in the car but she ain't getting insured Dude's that get no hoes are always the first to persecute How the hell she murking you? I just said her purse is cute All about the confidence, hit her with some compliments And you could be like Washington and get her on your monument Water all around me, I'm stranded, I like it She rode my island like we were up in Providence Don't compare me to them rappers me and them are opposites Antonyms, they just wanna replicate the panda hymns I got broads in Atlanta and Dominicana Tallaha**ee to Miami, all of them hara** me Didn't know that I could rap? Well you should've asked me Call me San Diego, I always keep it cla**y But if you haven't noticed, I could be explosive I'm going off the rails, I've got a locomotive Watch me deliver, no Digiorno All these lines on my head like cornrows Liquor in the liver, four bros, four hoes Who gon jump on the grenade? Nose goes PC referees, don't get mad at me My reality described in an*logies Now you're saying that my rhymes don't fit the right crowd? Who are you tell me what I should rap about? [Verse 5] You know what? I'll go and kick with the rhythm My inspirations through my prism Oh yeah, I'll go three, four bars And five, six, seven, eight Yeah it's never too late, to witness the greatness Oh man, you know that I've been stainless You could show it, could hear it in my bonus n***a I freestyle this and you should know this, I'm popping And I ain't stopping, ain't got an option, let's get it popping Abel to do it every weekend, so I do it often Pen is mightier than the sword, and my pages full of battle scars Wanna ride? You gon need to handle bars I ain't crazy, I'm super saying! I breathe fire from my dragon balls Young Brennan dragging balls, all over the drum set, of this beat, go one breath, and fifth deep, you done yet? Forgive me, but I do not know what a limit is Wolverines know I go gump like I don't know where the finish is I flow like every damn rapper combined But only the good ones, bad ones don't mind This the good ole fashioned Marc Jackson Hand down, man down, I don't get distracted Still got plenty, tank never getting empty But to keep y'all waiting Ima stop an 120 Uh [Radio Host] What!? (Woo!) Hoooo! You heard it here first ladies and gentlemen Oh my Lord! (Ay!) I gotta, hold on a minute, I gotta get outta my seat for a second, hold on a minute (laughs) [Dwoyo] f** it, we going out! We going out! [Radio Host] Oh my Lord! You heard it here first, on the D-Low Dwoyo