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grind time now - arsonal vs dizaster (2010) lyrics

[round 1: dizaster]
you overrated f-ggot
i mean the world hates you more than they hate me
and i think i finally know why
you’re like that annoying creature in every single f-cking video game that just won’t die
no matter what i do today he’ll say that he’s better rapping
i could have him on the floor in a position where his neck is snapping
take a machete, hack him into several fractions, and he’ll put himself back together and say that it never happened
see people say that you’re supposed to be your own worst critic
but when it comes to d-ck riding yourself
your boy ars’ here doesn’t know the limit
he talk about himself like he’s so terrific
but when you said you bodied everybody you ever battled
homie that’s when you overdid it
cause you said you beat rich dolarz, b-tch, no you didn’t!
you said you beat okwerdz, b-tch, no you didn’t!
you even said you beat conceited, alright, yeah, you did
after we confirmed this battle on twitter
ars’ was trying to back out like a hoe
everyone saw him, tweet-tweet-tweet
“what is dizaster attacking me for? lush i want more money or i’m not gonna do this battle no more”
listen, p-ssy, you wear the g-yest shirts
i’ve ever seen since mase when he praising church
and to make things worse, you motherf-cking recycle every single thing you say and say the verse
this motherf-cker right here heard mistah fab’s album
and he said it was straight up dirt
he said, “so what he ghost ride his school bus?
i do that every day on my way to work.”
i ain’t gon’ diss smack or [?], those are two businessmen who clearly go their head set. why else do you think this f-ggot arsonal doesn’t have one battle on url yet?
but this is grind time, homie, you ain’t f-cking with us
you like reverse rosa parks cause you’re always on the front of the bus
they say i’m scared to go to the east, what the f-ck for?
i’ll show up to loaded lux door
take a sh-t on his front porch and tell him i want war
i’ll scream into his mail box
“they’ll give you a mil’ to do it, even 1.14!”
and he never came out, he had his mother open the front door and tell me to put up more!

[round 1: arsonal]
first of all, let me get my spit on
here’s some sh-t that i’ma get on
i been here since wednesday f-cking morning
and he had the same sh-t on
habib, why you playing with me?
you ain’t nothing but a racist gypsy
i run in your masjid and bring a fresh piece of bacon with me
when you was learning to make bombs, i was making hickeys
your mind set is: “the world is mine and i’m going to take it with me!”
eat sh-t, your terrorist f-ck, your mom’s a therapist sl-t
she drink bath water and elephant nut
that b-tch will such a booger out an elephant tust
it’s no way this genie would ever turn the rebel to dust
now first he escaped from guantanamo bay then flew to amsterdam
kidnapped an american cameraman, took him back to afghanistan
said, “al humdu allah” three hundred times, did the hammer dance
then you drop to your knees to pray
n-gga, you don’t stand a chance
i’ll hop kick you while they try to rush you to the hospital
i’ma crash that school bus into your ambulance
my tool tuck if two bust, you the panic man
and i know you can prevent yourself from choking cause your grandma can
that old b-tch pop them t–th out, i pop my meat out
we send you to the your room and hang a sign that say “keep out”
now you pondering, wondering what are we ’bout to do
so you decide to make a bomb and then sneak out
you bring that sh-t to newark if you want
and you’ll be held hostage
anthrax in your package big laden, you’ll be mailed boxes
your arm, leg, leg, arm, had, a lot in mailboxes
and please believe darrell hands connect
with whoever darrell boxes
my n-gga you don’t got a bus p-ss
and your eyebrows are thicker than dr. robotnik’s mustache
you f-ck f-gs. matter fact, your eyebrows get trimmed with the same lawn mower your rich father uses to cut gr-ss
what you thought i’d pull a jin
and wasn’t gonna be making it on time?
to m.o.b., m-ssacre of the bay, not making my own bomb?
the key to winning this battle is saving your third rhyme
making sure your punches land and saying them on time
now you on your solo sh-t, your dolo sh-t
your b-tch respect my gadget
i say go-go d-ck and she jump on that pogo stick
now i”m on your big screen, me and her, p-rno fl1ck
you oh so sick, meet arsonal’s round house dojo kick
here some reverend run wisdom, whoever you go-go get
when i bring mac out
i bet your team black out like them n-gga that jojo with
you don’t wanna take it to la, he know why
he know i am the b.o.y
that’ll beat him in the back of his neck
with the same brick that craig used on debo eye

[round 2: dizaster]
i’ll admit, right about now, this dude is busting sick
but when he did that move and got on his knees
i really thought he was gonna suck my d-ck
y’all wondering why i’m always snapping and cursing?
cause i get to see firsthand the m-ssive amounts of cash that grind time staff is dispersing
on rappers who haven’t put in half as much work
as we all have to deserve it
i wouldn’t be mad at you for getting stacks
i would think this cat is actually worth it if after all your battles you didn’t act like such a f-ggot in person
why’s it when a street dude loses to a grind time rapper
he walks around acting all b-tt hurt?
you can’t be humble, instead you wanna mumble a bunch of cuss words and call us some dumb nerds
but when a grind time rapper loses to a street dude
it’s just as bad if not much worse
cause we gotta run back to the suburbs and tell everyone we lost to the same old played out f-cking gun verse
you got smashed by ok’ and started acting mad and uptight
but it wasn’t the fact it was a grind time rapper
it was the fact he was white
you’re like, “i can’t go to jers’ after they heard i got served by this nerd rapper
how could i put in words not to sound like i got murked by a ‘burbs cracker?
got d-mn it, this okwerdz a sh-t head, he’s a squirrel master.”
in the hood when you lose to a white boy you lose all of your props
so when he went back home to jers’
with his head down and he started to pout
his father opened up the door and he started to shout
like, “darrell, bring yo’ -ss inside and sit down on the couch
me and you got something we should be talking about
now you win some and lose some in life
and that’s beyond a doubt
this ain’t a loss this is an opportunity to put your music out.”
and he’s like, “but dad, that white boy…”
“did you just say white boy?
now get yo’ black -ss out of my house!”
now you calling out dot mob? man, leave t-rex alone
you’re like an archaeologist
the way you stay polishing t-rex’s bone
this motherf-cker told rex online
when he see him he would slap him
d-mn, five feet away from each other and nothing happened
nothing happened…
hold on, hold on, hold on… nothing happened!

- grind time now lyrics

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