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grind time now - qp vs. taz lyrics

[round 1: qp]
ay look, the difference between me and you taz, mainly the bezel
this grind time forecast task can’t be ya’ level
the clip’s in, got hitmen, if taz think he a rebel
i call it in, revolver spin like tasmanian devils
now that’s banging the metal, but fellow this isn’t rock and roll
just ’cause ya’ teeth yellow that yellow don’t mean you rocking gold
you come to my hood it’s understood, you’ll be locking doors
or instead of a new whip, stupid, i’ll be copping yours
these are just a few things you should be watching for
when you’re not at the kwik stop with your father, watching stores
this is the guy from how high, know how you got them sores
this isn’t dubai cool guy, we don’t auction whores
of course he’s rich, he probably get hella shit with his black card
but with a name like mc hachmed, it’s irrelevant if you act hard
i mean, the guy’s got an elephant in his backyard

[round 1: taz]
it’s only just beginning to rumble for the right to be called the king of the jungle
you full of shit, surrounded by pigeons amongst you
you can’t battle rhyme, have you ever had a line that could rattle a mind
nah you just good for giving fox some extra camera time
this dude’s battle on youtube, it wasn’t pretty
i’m not just talking ’bout his face but the whole thing was f-cking shitty
and that’s when something in me told me that this dude wasn’t f-cking with me, plain and simple
’cause that’s how you rap, plain and simple
call me a terrorist wow, i’ma have to start aiming missiles at the back of his dome
you lack original style, it’s like that movie attack of the clones
but i’m back in the zone, you better get ya’ steps right
you can’t rumble in the jungle, you don’t know how to flex mics
man i took him to the amazon, this motherf-cker thought it was a website
i was like, yo- shit, i’m blanking out
but i’m ’bout to f-cking spank his spouse when i pull her over up on the couch
yo and that was just a f-cking freestyle, yo

[round 2: qp]
aight look, i was told he was indian, but which kind it wasn’t specified
convenience store owners, or the wild wild western kind
he knows cowboys, he’s familiar with the wesson, i’m
guessing he’s native american so cl-ss, it’s lesson time
on his reservation it’s safe, he don’t need no pistols
when he playing with fire, he just sending smoke signals
no riddles, i don’t mean to talk down to your race
how’d you escape guantanamo bay with geronimo’s face?
now the whites were a phenomenal race, i heard how they handled you
columbus took your culture, even copied ya’ sandals too
you guys were dumb, you smoke herb you’re a dam to move
i mean you guys name yourself by putting a verb before the animal
so you must be sitting bull, well i’ll leave you lying shook
when the clip is full sitting bull will be crying wolf
no games here, like reindeers, you’ll see flying hoofs
i’ll take his dreamcatcher down, so when he sleep he see how dying looks
you think i’m lying look, this heat’ll scorch the sauna
i’ll put the steel to his grill like an orthodontist
this ain’t a good look for you when i torch the llama
it turn him to a redskin like pocahontas

[round 2: taz]
okay he said some shit about redskin pocahontas, but let’s be honest
in hip hop it never mattered whether your skin tone was full house nor family matters
yo and i’m known to spit the truth ’cause the gt movement is living proof
but this dude, probably born in the mid-’80s
but your rhyme stage and your mind state is no smarter than d-ck cheney’s
when i was working harder to get gravy i seen him on maury hollering at his b-tch lady
talking about “i am not gonna be the father of six babies”
it’s no way that you spit crazy i’m just the better rapper that’ll spit your punchlines better backwards
’cause you live in the false reality, happily ever after
and we all know how that story goes i don’t have to finish the chapter
now this immature b-st-rd needs to wake up and realize that the stereotypical black rapper image is shattered
qp, you are simply not the answer
when you are the reason for hip hop’s battle with cancer
so don’t rap about guns you never popped and worry about them alb-ms you never dropped
otherwise the outcome, a wannabe smack dvd reject mc that was never hot

[round 3: qp]
is he still rapping? have you listened to a thing i’ve said?
or are you punch-drunk, from being rap’s prince naseem hamed
on the top of the glock, all of my beam dots red
i’ll put a red dot on his red dot then make ya’ bebop dread
my t chop heads, hot lead come across ya’ jaw
he rose in van wilder, but we all knew that taj would fall
i met his chick at the brothel when she swallowed it she m-ssaged my b-lls
she worship at the temple, and my d-ck is the taj mahal
you with a camel that’s like, hockey-canadian
if he’s rolling with a hood, then that’s probably his lady friend
if this is sparta then you’re probably arcadian
and i’m a type of nigga to roll with a couple of his lady’s friends
my blade sharper than a ginsu, i give you more lead than a pencil
so me going against you, it’s a wrap like the head of a hindu, it’s simple
i hit ya’ beanie wit’ a hollow, then make him disappear like a genie in a bottle
got some head from his girl, she sucked my weenie in the tahoe
tossed my salad, before she put my zucchini in her piehole

[round 3: taz]
i went to this high school called king/drew
and that shit he said about hindu, i heard from a f-cking friend and 50 cent too
that line is so f-cking old, that’s my whole point
when this man raps it’s a f-cking rap tragedy
you got a couple of jokes but this ain’t the laugh factory
see i’m hungry like my nationality coming after me
and

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