ahat battle league – danny myers vs bobby lee lyrics
[round 1: danny myers]
anytime i needed some money, or whatever it was, you’d buy it for me
cops towed my truck in utah, you left yo’ job and got fired for me
you always been a humble dude, you never acted too tough
while the west looks up to me, i’ve always looked up to you bruh
but i don’t give two f-cks
when y’all step in this ring lace ya boots up
i’ll sn-tch lil bobby and brush his t–th with a p-rn stars tooth brush
i am the truth bruh, one of the sickest men, i am now, what i envisioned then
since ’92 i been holdin’ down the west through the thick and thin
remember i said i got a gun so big i gotta get in it to shoot it…well picture then
danny with the big machine to hold down the pacific rim
i got a different pen, you wanna talk goats? let’s be specific then
i tracked down the ark of the covenant to keep my lyrics in
you a full time hustler, so treat this as a hobby then
i opened the gates, cause we couldn’t pick the lock with bobby pen (pin)
i had a dozen beefs, but some of my homies died, and they wasn’t street
they was just grillin’ n-ggas they even know like cousin pete
go ‘head say you f-cked one of my baby mamas, you think that’s gone drive me insane?
you think i’m gone wrestle…with the fact she gave bobby the brain?!
i quit the dope game, i wanted that lifestyle to be over with
i bought a game store, employees was stealin’ soon as i opened it!
i opened a men’s store, sellin clothes and sh-t, then we had to close the sh-t
how the f-ck i lose 200 thousand tryna go legit!?
i tried to leave the game, i ain’t want no parts of the sh-t
but once you lay a foundation, you gotta start with a brick
i rap my heart when i spit, these caskets is for anybody
i’ll pull up in a race car with a mini shotty…and “ricky” bobby!
my friend shot a fiend over some meth, it wasn’t even worth that lame cash
he took the sack and gave it to me, i got an insane past
do you believe in a parallel universe?
(i do!)
i went to church over that same blast
i had blood on the crystal while praying next to the stained gl-ss
so what we doin’ bobby? you really think you can rob mobstas?
i’ll talk about ballin’ after you dead if that’s what bob cost us (costas)!
i spot ya, run up on ’em and a k’ll spray
the other strap got the extension like it can’t pay today
we had make a way, in the hood, gang bangers was goin’ there
n-ggas got cripped on (krypton) before superman was born there
i’ll eat ya guts, ya kidneys and spleen’ll get fried
open ya stomach with my hands don’t be squeamish this time
i’ll mutilate you, there’s really a demon inside
but you won’t see the full gore (fulgore) til there’s a beam in his eye
he in the chi, denver, utah, we don’t share lanes
watch how i do b.o.b. when he comin’ off them ‘airplanes’!
we don’t spare lames, i’m not impressed by your murder stories
you ain’t goin’ to h-ll for pimpin’, but you are doomed for purgatory!
once you die you’ll be surrounded by s-x addicts and wh0r- mongers
you’ll see the pictures of your food p-rn, then you’ll experience more hunger
you’ll scream as zombie hookers don the flesh of you
you can’t wake from this nightmare, you sweat while johns is textin’ you!
you can’t move, ya minds a vegetable
this is beyond the s-xual, i make n-ggas look non professional!
emerson kennedy a g*nius, diesel got hay makers, kinda unique
yak got punches, he showin’ you the science is sweet
bria can write, griz can win anytime of the week
then there’s you, the king of trolls for the comic relief
is that yo’ legacy? the rest of yo’ squad can rap, and the heat be weekly
do you really want to be known as barcodes freaky zeeky?
i’m the goat n-gga, you can’t measure respect
i’ve already damaged barcode, that’s why it hasn’t registered yet
triangular barrel for my foes, i’ma slay his crew
there’s a lesson in the desert like asu
that scar on ya face tells a story, a n-gga tried to rob son
i’ll told em you ‘sposed to swipe in if you wanna get the job done
large gun, with the fitted scope, aimed at this n-ggas throat
when it’s in the travel case it looks like i’m bout to hit the slopes
this sh-t’s a joke, i had a tommy gun, but the sh-t had broke
i miss the drummin’ (mr drummund) from that old guy it had a different stroke
this sh-ts a joke, he on the ground with this sh-t
thank the lord he don’t got another round of this sh-t
yikes!
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