Iron Solomon - Math Hoffa vs. Iron Solomon lyrics

[Iron Solomon, round 1] Little Math, little Math, your records retail this year? You prolly sell as many copies as there's females in here Little Math, little Matthew, look around the room you b**h Aside from her and her, you're the only one with a uterus Little Matthew, little Matthew, you're sweeter than licorice Only thing hood about him's the skin on his cli*oris Little Matthew, little Matthew ... You like when I call you little Matthew See I call you little b**h, but your real name's so b**h I don't have to Cause I'm dissapointed with the comp that Smack has given me I'ma make Smack wanna smack you litta'lly You got garbage punchlines and plastic similies I recycled your rhymes to trash you lyrically Cause back in high school, I smashed this chicketty To cut, she cut science cla** to visit me We had the chemistry, attracted physically Taught her s** ed and wood shop, now Math is history He pa**ed this b**h to me, you failed, she follow me I mapped it instantly, it's called geography Social studies, the whole globe'll love me But you're only famous to your local buddies So get focused dummie, it's just the start of the lecture I play the part of professor, in your hardest semester Get your pocket protector, protect your pockets Withdraw your wallet, direct dough-posit Collect your profit; your digits subtract I divide your pie so my division could snack Pay you no mind, I never listen to math Plus - I'm ADD, in addition to that So I'm getting your cash, this schooling is priceless My other students is lifeless, you're gonna loose to the nicest A grown man's face isn't usually like this He looks like Chris Brown having a puberty crisis And I'm Mike in his prime, you ain't even a top sequel Sugar Shane verse Sweet n' Low, we're not equal I've mastered addition, and you're lacking in wisdom He dies, I multiply with a masters precision I gave him the equations, but his answers are missing So if this guy's a problem, I'm a mathematician He a keyboard beat, I'm a MP snare Your tanks on E, and I'm MC squared [Math Hoffa, round 1] Ayo ... This n***a's a midget Standing here he prolly feel like he's shrinking This ain't a battle, this a debate; Obama verse Hillary Clinton See, I don't like Solomon, Solomon is whack He look like a big a** duck, that waddled into rap And we all know his role model isn't black You ain't s**ing Eminem's dick, but you goggling his sack My man told me not to battle, it ain't bringing in the chips He said "that's Iron Solomon!" I said "you think this n***a's sick? I don't think this n***a's sh**" Made me wanna tear the p**y up even more, I started thinking like my dick All these battle rappers walking 'bout, I'ma tell you why They ain't got sh** to talk about, just the other guy I could talk about me, living horror to your eyes How I went on robbing sprees from August to July sh** that's year round ... I got a rep you can't tear down with jokes sh** I'm feared round the coast Four four four five, push the peer down your throat How another mouth behind your ear sound?'s grose ... Play your post, p**y, don't get f**ing crazy I bust a eighty 'fore I loose to this muppet baby And you know he got his whole clique coaching him "You 'bout to battle Math? Don't get to close to him He got a fast right hand, but I'd watch both of 'em Cause you don't wanna end up in a whole with Dose n' em" sh** my squad raw, n***a I'm hardcore I come through, raise up, like a garage door I rob n***a's, what the f** I need a job for? This dick too p**y - something like a menage, bwoi So f** whatever Iron hollering I'm a steamer from the cleaners, I iron Solomon And I heard he got a giant following Good, they can watch Iron Math Tyson leave Iron wobbling Mmmmmh ... I ain't a**, he ain't try'na blast Only work he ever put in the projects was for his science cla** I can get Iron snatched just for trying Math Have him like a skinny white girl: Can't find his a** I'm from Brooklyn, the borrough where we get to clapping Just imagine how you feel and how your chest collapsing f** the laughing, my whole team set for action Where you from?! What you rep?! Midtown Manhattan? Aw shucks, this n***a is soft bu*t I can see him on his block, try'na be all tough Bop when he walk up, pant's sagging, brown paper bag and a large cop of coffee from Starbucks Now you all exposed like dog nuts His face turning red, his gla**es done falled up He like a lab rat on the trap, he all stuck Hand him some soap, this lil' n***a 'bout to get washed up Put him in my shoes, while I'm taking them trips Homeboy got to work, so we taking his bricks Tell him knuckle n***a's down while he facing the fifth I bet he seize up like he claiming the Crips Fast life, yeah I murk the turbine Got b**hes on my knob like a "don't disturb" sign I'm serious like the kid from Jerse you heard mine Let's see if he got the nerve to even serve his first line Before you do the obvious, I'ma prove he a s**er My name Math, so he prolly gonna do sh** with numbers But my name's an acronym, if you don't know what that means For every letter in my name there's a word in between Give you an example: Every weekend it's just Me And The Ho's Get it? M. A. T. H.: Me And The Ho's, see I'm way prepared for the bars that you got; My Arsenal's Too Heavy, My Aura's Too Hot But if he wanna do math, f** it then bet Subtract his gla**es, add blond hair, what would you get? I can break this p**y down without busting a sweat You been battling rookies, it's time you f** with a vet [Iron Solomon, round 2] You've been s**ing dick, as long as I've been s**ing titties So if you're p**y, maybe that's why you ain't f**ing with me Cause your sh**'s softer, than Justin hugging Britney And my sh**'s tougher, than Bobby snuffing Whitney It's revenge of the nerds; f** Math, I'll get my vengeance with words Sentences, words and paragraphs If I'm Slim Shady, I guess there'll be nothing after Math See, you softer than a rabbit getting pulled out a magic hat If I'm a midget, and you loosing, now how whack is that? See, he had one or two lines, but that first round was trash In a second, you're getting burnt, like a pound of hash When major numbers count, you can't count on Math But his days are numbered now, he can count on that Cause you more like Count Drac, biting verses, you s** Can't counter attack, my fighting words is too tough I launch a full strike, I'm the axis of evil Leave you down for the count, like Dracula's people So let's count down, like a jacket with goose feathers With supreme mathematics added for good measure His old dad named him Math, your pop's Urcle He's the zero in the cypher, corny as a crop circle 9 months you was born, earth delivered a boy It's mealtime, you're getting ate, I build and destroy If you rest on the 7th, you can never compete Cause the true gods a**emble at the End of The Week My 6th sense telling me: Evil keeps watching me People keep blocking me from peace and equality Solomon, follow me, 5 star general The pinnacle, powerful, my squads incredible Vultures keep telling you: This culture's for revenue But 4 elements brings freedom to the destitude ... [Math Hoffa, round 2] Aight ... So the nerd knows math, what a f**ing surprise That sh** don't apply to me, so you still s** in my eyes I look at you and get the feeling you got something to hide Cause your nose and your gla**es look like a f**ing disguise Everybody's so amazed to see a white boy spit That they don't realize a white boy isn't (?) Well somebody tell this white boy to watch his mouth while he spitting Cause I done boxed more chins than a chinese president Look, your jokes ain't sh** to me ... n***a you a nerd! Your p**y words can't get to me But I know your history How he started rapping and acting all n******gy I'ma recap, y'all follow, you get the picture, see His pops had a rocky life: He was a dummie He used to bet on Rocky fights, and loose his money After Rocky father ain't had no dough So he kissed the kid goodbye and took his a** on the road Now his moms had the Black Snake Moan She was like the halfway house, whenever cats came home They'll play a rap tape, to drown out his screaming But guess who white a** was in the other room sleeping Fast forward, who standing here screaming? You play Rakim, in his head he gonna hear a bed sqeaking Look Iron, you messing with a demon Beast or human being I don't give a f** I'm eating I'm way too street for you Show you what a heater do I'll beat him till he need some new teeth to chew a piece of food He wanna be street, throw him underneath a vehicle This n***a ain't beef, I could feed him to his sheeple too Listen, I run with the wolfes We on the prowl till our stomach's is full Don't come with the bull, or we gon' eat steak He j**ish, he a cheapskate He can't afford the beef, he call his peeps in his peeps' flake Cause his peeps' fake We grown men; they all a bunch of juniors, all they got for me is cheesecake I tried to hang with Iron, but it ain't work out I had him in the streets, he keep letting the nerd out I said "Iron! I need some bricks, you know people?!" He said "it's funny that you ask, I'm bout to go to Home Depot" I said "Iron!" - I'm puffing a cig - "you wanna bus down?" He said "Nah, I take the train, Math, I'm going uptown" I said "Iron! I got that budder! What's cracking?!" He said "I'm more of a Parkay guy, it's less fattening" You're try'na sound all tough, but you're just rapping That's why everytime he get's loud, I'm just laughing I got a thing for your sister, you oughtta know this She the first white girl that I smashed, we met in Lotos She took the kid raw, so I could spray on her faster I felt like caviar the way I came on a cracker (Hold on, hold on, hold on ... n***a's bugging, yo hold on) Every night I got a freak to meet I got his broad licking balls while he deep and asleep If Iron walk in, he prolly wouldn't leave her He'd stand there and beat his meat, like Rocky in the freezer You know them white boys, wierd as they can be Peeking at his sister, prolly wearing her panties Jerking at the dinner table, stairing at auntie k** his moms and tell the cops "she kept making me angry!" He want Eminems style And Eminems wife He gay so I can't say he want Eminems wife He want Eminem cars And Eminem homes When he say he a EM-C, he mean a Eminem Clone Keeping it fair: If I could reach in his ear and pull out three toughts The first'd be about him bleaching his hair [Iron Solomon, round 3] You keep compairing me to Eminem is just lame And everybody know you be selling M&M's on the train ... See, I'm a nerdy white guy, pshh, I grew up with loop I went to Styverson High School, and I'm j**ish to boot A banker or a broker's what I prolly should be Cause handling math, have never been a problem for me See, Math is all hype, he going at the wrong mic f** rap; you more like the basketball type And we could hoop in a pair of Timb's I'll still wear 'em thin I'm a Natural Born k**er, the rap Woody Harrelson He looking at me, like White Men Can't Jump Till I step off the bench and light your a** up In a couple seconds flat, check the stats, when it's time to score I'm number one, like 23, and son ain't even final four And for the record Math, you're getting waxed in a vinyl store I turn the tables on rival sets, when I fight a war I infiltrate like Trojan soldiers from inside a horse; A baby with a bu*ter knife, against a samurai with swords A pitbulls bite, lockjaw, and a lions raw You got a marshmellow heart and styrofoam spinal chords I'm an upcomming pimp; you're the worst kind of who*e That gets f**ed once and quits cause her vaginas sore It's like he's PMS'ing, it's like he has his period Who's he think he's kidding? He can't be serious Before the Smack appearances, I heard dude spitting Sounded like one of Shaq's apprentices, should have been in Fu Schnickens Used to spit like Bone Thugs But wasn't getting no love, so now he try to rhyme like Serious Jones does He hopes his lyrics'll blow up; whichever gimmick pops Rappers like him - this is why Mims is hot But I'm a real lyricist, something Mims is not I oughtta go diamond with the gems I drop And this is why I'm hot, I can chip 'em off the block Or I rip 'em with a written cause I glisten like a rock And this is why you not, but you flip and gonna flop Cause you spits a lot of fiction like the mission in Iraq With the wins I got, I defend my spot I chase gin with scotch, you drink ginger schnapps Try'na riding my lane, your stock rims'll pop Try holding my crown, your limbs'll rot Try wearing my shoes, I'll even lend you socks Feels like you rocking Timb's made of cinder blocks If heaven got a ghetto, I'ma send you ock Go chill in Thugz Mansion, be friends with Pac You a underground rapper, I'll dig your plot Party on your tomb stone - bring some pot [Math Hoffa, round 3] Ayo... Listen, shorty You're short, bummy, with short change You had a short run, for a short time, a short reign I got a short temper; If I short right this short lame, it be a short fight He gon' run off with a short stain My n***a's put in work, they down to do dirt for me So tell Brainy Smurf: It ain't smart to smurf with me I start a brawl purposely, just to see him broke up They say I set Dose up, if I did, so what? Most these n***a's so bu*t, I don't wanna battle 'em I just wanna hit 'em, shake 'em up and rattle 'em They talk a bunch of fiction, just a bunch of babbling I show 'em how I'm living; they going in an ambulance It's Training Day, I'm Denzel to this dude He the rookie white boy, I gotta tell him the rules I let him think he smoking Math, hit the pipe and he set That's when I turn and say "I ain't know you like to get wet" Now he wiping his sweat, he on PCP Hallucinating that he wan a Smack DVD Tell Iron he ain't dealing with a TV G Ax around, I'm the Truth, like Beanie Si He no thug, he know me from his people's club Cause I done f**ed n***a's up - outside of EO dubb We throw slugs, n***a's wanna fight, we don't budge I always got a right for a soft n***a like Neo does He on d**, white boys and they habits Go to his crib, he prolly got a drawer full of tablets Something to pop when he mad, something to pop when he sad Hope you got something to pop for Math chewing yo' a** He gon' run up on the roof, crying out for sympathy: "I never loose! I never even lost my virginity It's k**ing me! How'd that black motherf**er win?" Though he was a Eminem, but he just another Jin And while he on the roof, all stuck in his slump I'm downstairs screaming up to him "jump, n***a, jump!" This punk is a punk, let him front if he want I could take his front off with one pump with a pump, pssh.. White bread you done come for dead You wanna battle? Me lick you with a buckle on your lumpy head White bread, what ya try for do? Mine a bad man, me shoot you and your wifey too And that's just me doing how I like to do f** him up and let his homeboys wipe my shoes And here's a fact: King Solomon was black I got his blood in my veins, you're just a bum with his name His parents got money, and I'm strapped for the bread So when he leave after this; throw a bag on his head Make him call up mommy with the tech to his liver Tell daddy "empty the trust fond and get it delivered" And when they get him back, I'm gon' be set with the figures And they'll tell you: "That's what you get for messing with ... ni**erS!"