URLtv - John John Da Don vs. Tay Roc lyrics

[Round 1: Tay Roc] n***as hit me like “Roc, you see how he did Wavy? You better prep for this.” I tell n***as, “I'm not Wavy and when do I not prep for sh**?” Perfectionist, my style is five percent excellence The other ninety-five percent recklessness All I could think of is violence, I need a therapist, specialist The gun bars I come up with, they be treacherous n***a, it's evident, there won't be no evidence Your head and chest get caved in, I gives a f** whatever dent Don't leave your b**h home alone in your residence There's k**ers I sent to meet her with 9 millimeters, no need for measurements We shoot b**hes, even who*es get wings like Pegasus Why f** with Roc? You're climbing a mountain you shouldn't ever risk You hella b**h, John John Wanting to battle Roc, this is what happens when keeping it real gone wrong You ain't the don, John, and I ain't Hollow, n***a, I get it shaking with these hands, no pom poms I'll clock you out, you'll get done dirty Catch a shell from the 12, but all the buckshots look like I gave one 30 You unworthy, boy, I will crack the Don And after the crack of dawn, have your family mourning, that's dumb early Yeah, son heard me, I don't think you could stand more I'll go across his damn jaw ‘til my hands sore Leave this man floored, who you fronting on cam for? I got everything but a knife in these damn drawers n***a, that slick sh** get you rocked by a fan for it Watch how you use your vocal, or I'm cutting the damn chord The can stored, if you ain't packing like you got an eviction notice; this will leave your sh** all outside on the land, Lord Aye, I ain't PG, mid-tier, or top-tier I've been a problem, threatening these n***as since I got here You'll get shot here, I do not care A shell hit his chest and come out behind his back like he not here Talk to me nice, I'm not Wavy, this Roc here Lately, I've been on a k**ing spree, and it don't stop here Tsu Surf, Brizz, Calicoe, I had a hot year And for an early Christmas gift Smack putting you on a hot chair It's not fair, I will grip here I figure four will send dog to Nate, your boy Ric Flair It's time to back up that talking, don't get scared This n***a said he'll f** Tay Roc up, b**h where? This b**h weird, I get paranoid, don't get near I ain't got flats in my car, but that four will get aired His wig split, half on his shoulders, half of it sit there He wouldn't live if they put a quarter back, I did him like McNair You fought with Hollow to get a battle out the sh**? Swing on me, you will not be on stage rapping ‘bout the sh** Put a knot on my head I will not be blogging, or ratting ‘bout this sh** I'll retire battling, and start clapping up every Smack event We GPS map the sh**, cut the lights, black the sh** n***a, if I hear a sigh, your boy get k**ed on accident I have these fists, I ain't even trying to grab for this I'm looking at his jaw like “what kind of cheap gla** is this?” You have me pissed, I ain't the n***a you should call out f** a personal, disrespect what I'm all about But this time, the ice pick go in your mom's scalp I'll put at least a baby maggie in your brother Bart mouth You are lightweight, see how I carried the n***a? I was a good father to you, I took care of you, n***a I was hoping Bow Wow was here so I can bury him with ya And let him know me and my b**h trying to f** Erica Mena Cave Gang [Round 1: John John Da Don] Let me reiterate Summer Madness coming, Calicoe, stop running Conceited, how you 4'5” and still ducking? John John talking sh**, he gon' make me steal something Make you do what, my n***a? Ain't no condoning that ‘Cause all you do is rap about the steel Well sh**, I'm known for that Y'all thinking I'm gonna take his sh**? See y'all wrong for that ‘Cause I ain't got to copy anybody Don't they got clones for that? We here now, and Summer Madness 5 is all it took, Roc Calicoe must really be getting drug money, ‘cause he got by and all he did was push Roc This is boiling hot water, waiting for you in a good pot I want to leave him baking So the arm and hammer fixing to cook Roc It's levels to this gun bar sh**, let's peep the difference I'm like a scammer with some fresh gift cards; my piece is hitting And these b**hes ready to bust it like freaky women If I see him trying to black, I'm shooting, police decisions If you want to box, I'll give you a box, let's be specific But don't worry, you could get it for nothing; it's free admission Y'all see the movie Belly, right? Well if Tay Tay planning on giving me the mittens Then I'ma get it shaking with the ratchet like Tommy Buns telling Keisha “listen, listen, listen” I don't know no f**ing Keyana But I could make Mrs. Cave bust it open for that sweet stuff like a f**ing piñata Two choices, cut all the drama, or get rest of the trauma You make one step, pop, I think I'm in love with his mama But why you keep calling me your son? How could you talk this way? When you're my kid, Roc, I'm the reason that you walk this way I run these MC's, Kid Rock, Run-DMC Now watch the plot unfold I'll make whatever I got on my hip hop out on Roc and roll It's past rap, ‘cause Roc been looking shaky, that's a bad batch I'm strapped like I just came from Fury Road; I got mad MACs He pointing fingers, I'm pointing stingers You will get clapped at For snitching, you could test the equipment Now you're a lab rat It's science, ‘cause my toast is gonna split your core I double you with these 40s like *eee*, cringing doors Give him clip, after clip, after clip, then more Don't act like you ain't die from many clips before, twice ‘Cause Charlie k**ed him again when it came back around At least it got two million views, so it's a cla**ic now But the owner to that venue tried to pay Smack to take the battle down ‘Cause it was bad for business watching a n***a smoke Roc in that tobacco lounge You're really ‘bout the sh** you raps? Look me in my eye, Roc For lying, king, a scar could be the reason you die, Roc I'll snatch your daughter Jeniah up like she Simba until you cry, Roc So I guess that makes me Rafiki, ‘cause I'll hold your cub over your pride, Roc And that's gonna show me a p**y, so pull your skirt down Cross the line, I bet ten yards you'll be the first down You ride with him? Better reserve a spot in that hearse now Well since the cave man invented the wheel He'll get the first round I'm only here ‘cause n***as ain't been showing me no respect The only way Roc can k** me if I get stoned to d**h Big T, Tsu Surf, Hollow, one of them going next With all that gas, you still ain't sh**? Go get your colon checked n***a, and I'm here ‘cause I'm getting that cash It is a body, and it's time for you to get in that bag So just know when you get done spitting that trash It's still two more rounds of me whipping that a** [Round 2: Tay Roc] You told Wavy he was Drake and you was Quentin Miller, you got to right for this n***a That was smooth, watch how I flip it, get it right for this n***a If he get charged up back-to-back like that light-skinned n***a I'll have his eye puffy, n***as like “did he Smack a light-skinned n***a?” That's light for you, n***a, you thief, you be biting off n***as Taking bars that n***as worked hard to write for these n***as You stole my Martin Luther King, Rodney King sh**, you trifling n***a But since you steal sh**, I brought some steel sh** tonight for you, n***a See this round, you won't feel so tough n***a with no warning, Roc stole on him ‘cause he steal so much Get stomped with trees, the boots with the steel toe front Your f**ing head the perfect shape for a field goal punt Aye, what's this? Light skin vs. dark skin? Well tell Drake I rock with Millz Tell the house n***as I rock with n***as in the cotton fields I don't got no chills, you must want to get shot for real Have to use the second half Smack pay you on your doctor bill You who I'ma k**, my n***as run down on you If you ain't got you pound on you, they gon' pound on you Face swollen, looking like you gained a couple pounds on you Don't call me Tay, call me Sir Roc, my crown royal Who down for you, point them out, and they can have these hands Y'all gon' make me snap, back smack this man out his battle stance n***a, you'll get spotted in the field, that's a cattle ranch Once Roc slide down on him, that's a avalanche Snub nose, six shots and this gun on me I'll let off four, Liam Nesson, he taking one through three Merry Christmas, me and my n***as be lighting up the reef Hopefully, they'll find your missing toe while you're underneath Son is weak, watch your f**ing mouth if you want your teeth For talking drunk, the next thing you're sipping will be the lunch you eat f** police and the animal shelter for giving me citations because my bulldog always come unleashed Who want the beef? I promise, I ain't near sweet Venison, on my block, you wouldn't dare meet I'll smack your bald head with some hair grease Uppercut his chin through his jaw, he gon' have a blue tooth in his earpiece You're not the don, you wouldn't be sh** without your mom Even though you should be cheesing, ‘cause I'm your papa, John You're popping sh** ‘til I pop the nine Your next battle will be for your life, and God will be there to stop the time Beating me? You're out your mind You're gonna take an L, be cool, J, I'm a phenomenon We'll shoot up your house, bottom line The crib gonna look like Columbine and Virginia Tech got combined And if he snitching in court Spell it out, for a P, or K, my n***as will get rid of the pork I told you, soon as I get to New York I'll really get at you, Liberty statue, I'm lifting the torch I'm smacking you with it ‘til it's hurting me from hurting you If it's beef, I'm chopping down everything concerning you Your b**h, I'll lake her, your seed get done dirty too Like Magic, John son back get 32 We're masked up, put you in a bag like a trick-or-treater You wanted a win or a cla**ic, well you ain't getting neither I'ma grip the steamer He tried to bail but got caught, fell and he died, how y'all think mister meaner? Tried to tell him that this ain't what he want from me Battle rapping ain't a job to me, that sh** is fun me f** a scheme, angle, punch, it's ‘bout a gun to me A gun is-, you ugly, n***a [Round 2: John John Da Don] The most hated vs. the fan favorite, they love to amp you, Roc But I was a PG, so I know how to handle Roc Charlie Clips, Tsu Surf, Calicoe, they all dismantled Roc I thought it was time for them to re-up the way they ran through Roc ‘Cause all you ever talked about is guns that you use And they believe it ‘cause you dirty and got nothing to lose And since I'm clean and well dressed, all my gun bars be up for review But I watched Home Improvement, that's why I didn't even get my Tims tailored ‘cause I'm in love with the tools Is it the frames that got y'all thinking I won't let the ruger smoke? See every time you call me a nerd, it's just a stupid joke What is it about these that makes me less of a shooter, folks? I only wear gla**es so I ain't got to bother looking through a scope I'm hard, Roc, you'll need more than guns and your bars, Roc You bold, but I'm bolder, that's why I'm considered large, Roc You said you keep bundles and d** with you? You better tell me where they are, Roc Or R.I.P. to Stacks and Chinx, I'ma send you somewhere far, Roc f** you and your gun bars, that's all you rhyme about The cannon got a mac to Conceited, that's why he wilding out But testing me the wrong route, see, you're just now finding out This b**h kick harder than the one that knocked Ronda out Without a doubt, you're the most ga**ed n***a ever And you wouldn't bust a pipe if you was adding the pressure I'll make sure your d**h be way too drastic to measure You're bringing Smack down, no wonder you're named after a wrestler Ain't trying to take the curt angle, but I plotted a scheme To be your undertaker, and Kane brother is not what I mean It's like Wrestlemania 29, y'all follow the scene? You should know what happened the last time that a John scene a Roc in the ring And you gon' meet that same fate tonight, you want to bet? If it works out, I'll show off the body, you want to flex? f** a multiple choice, I'll fill in the blanks, you want to test? He talking back to an official, I'm guessing he want a tec Where's the check? Don't let me find out you ain't come with the cash Think NASA, when Roc get sent up from a blast And it ain't no taking cover when you're in front of the mag And it will break Roc up like when Jay stopped f**ing with Dash It's sanitation, I get paid to rid the public of trash Y'all think he cutting cheese? Please, that ain't nothing but gas It's a sack race, that's why I made him jump in that bag And it'll tuck Roc somewhere like a drug dealer stash It could be ten of y'all n***as, I'll run through your staff It'll get at least eight zipped from the pound like I wanted a half And keep count how many n***as I end, why? Because I've been f**ing with Math You see the vision, these subs track him, plus something to add ‘Cause these times, tables turn, and you stuck in the past I know I dragged that scheme out too long, right? But don't worry, I can switch it You want a proper grade? I feel you on that, I can dig it I don't like surprises, pop up on me while I'm just chilling And this b**h will point for the shot like Skylar Diggins I'm just different, and here ‘cause I'm saving the culture By carving Roc for this art like I'm making a sculpture I'll run in his wifey crib, and catch Tay on the sofa Both of them b**hes getting more bucks than Raven and Oprah And I'm taking it over [Round 3: Tay Roc] All y'all John John fans should close your ears, close your eyes You can't get personal with me ‘cause I don't know you guys But you're gon' make me show this four real, all jokes aside I'm straight to it, no time for games Think Mortal Kombat, all kinds of rage I'll stab you with your own knife, pull it out, make you sign your blade Get it? I'll f** around, break a bone in Johnny cage That's how I'ma play, b**h n***as, I don't roll with any We not sober, friendly, we got loads of semis The barrel big, looking like a bank roll of 20's The shotgun shells looking like a roll of pennies You vámonos when I got the toast, that's wala I'll make your shirt a mess with the piece, you'll get a tie-dye Chopper bullets the size of fingers, you'll get a high five I'll pull straps, a pair will shoot, you better skydive You not live, catch you at the corner store, the stock rise Headshot, he dropped his chips, the pigeons picking up hot fries I will get J the kiss on this Glock 9 Meaning I'll clap ‘til he was dead or alive, I gave his top five It's nothing to get you, what's up with the issue? The revolver make it a threesome, a couple will hit you When the snub nose sneeze, it will puncture your tissue I let it smoke in his face like Lady Luck did O'fficial Peep though, I'm the type to walk in your crib, don't even speck to mama Smack the plate out her hand like “Miss, I don't eat lasagna” Your brother get shot in his seat recliner Then I look to go f** up your grandma, am I speaking proper? You better keep a chopper, or you gon' need a doctor He on his job, I'll pop up like a secret shopper Watch how you speaking, partner, waste management sh** I'll come through with machines and sweep the block up Oh yeah, NWX, Big Terrence, that big titty n***a, lame Let Th3 Saga continue to ride with him, and that n***a getting flamed I'ma let this four cast every n***a in that gang I will son Shine, there will be no possibility of Rain I've seen that footage with Shine, I know you hate Roc You said, “New York be booing New York n***as but cheer for a Tay Roc” f** you, DNA and K-Shine, them n***as are in love in hip-hop, them n***as Miles and Milan Back to John, I'm here to give John John problems These nice, I'll knock the freckles off of John John noggin You couldn't escape these bars if they gave John John Cochran To me, you're small, to them, you tall, John John Stockton These n***as my sons, don't ever let them say they're not You grew up watching me, don't ever try to play Tay Roc f** with me, you'll see this AK pop I'll put tecs and two nines to his back, he J.J. Watt Texans, two 9's to his back, J.J. Watt Right after that John Stockton, Utah bar, Tay Tay hot It will be a short stop if J.J. start me To find him in Baltimore with a O in his hat, now he J.J. Hardy I'm giving out a** whoopings, I ain't taking any names If I'm taking any L's, I'm taking n***as' chains Real sh**, the kick got my wrist aching when it bang Keep playing, you gon' need stitches thinking sh** a game Dead n***a, is he gonna beat me? Still n***as lying Tell him like I told the others, I don't feel n***as' rhymes Who he fooling with the steel gripping lines? f**ing with me, you'll get smacked, real, real n***a time [Round 3: John John Da Don] I ain't the type to speak on beef that ain't mine But n***a, why you battling me, don't waste time See, you… Hazzard County King, huh? That's who you're putting on the map? You want to be a Maryland boss? Got to do more than rap All you do is battle, and that's why your soul belong to Smack You want to rep your city right? Then you got to be more than that I understand that's the only n***a you're getting stacks from But I look at you like an abusive parent, ‘cause you're Smack son And that's dumb, now I'ma take the time to start stating facts I'll get back to k**ing Roc, but it's some sh** I got to say to Smack This your gunner, huh? See I ain't trying to sound scarred from it But it's kinda hard to not be emotional when you actually put your heart in it I've paved the way for the PG's, found the plug to BET, even helped with some of the marketing But I seen you ran with Roc, it's ‘cause you on your Harden sh** But I will not fear the beard, but I'll face you here If this a body, I should get Hollow if I could make it clear I blame you for this Roc era like the Reagan years When I should get them drops tatted down my check, ‘cause I've been facing tiers I made it here on my own, I ain't have to play the middle, n***a Your whole career based on being somebody's little n***a, little n***a But f** how much of a sap that you are ‘Cause I just violated parole again, that just mean I'm going back to the bars And this time, Tay, you lost today, Smack hit my line, Tay ‘Cause I was thinking like the guard from the Pacers, that mean an L is what I had in mind, Tay Let's talk about that blue-haired b**h that stands behind Tay Who's probably f**ing the n***a that's the boss of Roc, but that's beyond say Silly thot, this n***a think he winning when he really not Y'all see I'm well over Roc like I took Free Willy spot We ain't got to dance in New York, I'll be on any block Arms waving, bodies turn when I show with that milli, Roc But off that, what's your excuse for your last battle, though? How you the Gun Bar King when you ain't know what to do with a Calicoe? It's sad to know you missed that big shot you've been asking for And got left, hanging off a body like saggy clothes You can't say you wasn't motivated, you was the challenger I thought you'll put Cal in the ER any day on the calendar You had to fail English, but since you had that on the radar With the correct TECs, you could've made Cal end with the AR You got the dumbest pen in battle rap, you should never win And I peeped it when you tried to put a n***a face on a 50 like Jefferson Wrong president, but let me get that line revamped for you My shooter will put your face on that 50 if I grant him to You got the dumbest pen in battle rap, true statement Like what's a D Nanny or a turducken? Who knows what Tay meant? See when you battled Rich, you tried to burn him with the same sh** But how you earn Dollaz when you barely ever make sense? You got the dumbest pen in battle rap, but you know what, let's keep it moving ‘Cause Smack threw Roc at the God like he was Jewish And my bro don't mind hawking a n***a, I've seen him do it Stage the play to stab the back of his Caesar like he was Brutus ‘Cause we ruthless, it got it lit like Vegas at night How you blacking when everything you're saying is light? Well please don't say the John if you ain't saying it twice And if you don't add Da Don, you ain't saying it right