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king of the dot - arsonal vs pat stay lyrics

[round 1: arsonal]
pat stay is a sucka free boss, but he’ll be left dead
if you ever let the cals (cows) fly
want beef? i’ll eject lead
your favorite movie is how high but you neglect red
cause red smoke weed, this motherf-ckers a meth head
in my city you wouldn’t show face
i wouldn’t let you get a penny off the dollar at a slow pace
i’m a gorilla but in yo’ place, i’m just a n-gga
your mother, i’ll k!ll her (k!lla) without ghostface
now i’m slaying him, hooking, souffleing him
i’ma show y’all ten ways to k!ll a canadian
first, feed him to the american people
two, dress him from head to toe in american eagle
three, make him read the american bible
four is simple, don’t let him watch no american idol
put you in a cell with an american f-g
make your canadian b-tch carrie weber suck 13 stripes off of my american flag
six and seven, just bury the guy
c-ck and let the glock bust faster than jimbo on american pie
eight and nine they both definitely bad
pat, your past is no comparison to any of the rest of these f-gs
number ten, tell you i ain’t done
then yell, “hey son, you really got an african american dad.”
now it’s time to radio in, canadian down location
nova scotia, some small canadian town
hostile posed a threat so i engaged on sight
they like, “other words you just k!lled pat stay, right?”
wrong bishop, i just k!lled pat stay wife in front of pat
pat ain’t do sh-t cause pat can’t fight
but ooh, don’t let me catch him slipping
have pat in a bad position
shooters on the roof, the scope attach for the mac’s precision
one blast, pat in half, that was fast division
split him into two by accident, oops i’m a bad magician
abracadabra, i smack, tackle i clap, you’re my gat packed in my knapsack
i’m back packing my clapper
black gats will clap to you wack talentless cast
but i’m past pat on a fast track
raps travelling past ya
y’all remember fight klub when hollow’s eyes showed the fear
i scorpioned that n-gga told his -ss, “get over here.”
beat him up public, f-ck waiting til the coast is clear
chicken noodle soup on him and threw a lot of jokes in there
that was in ’09
2010 was my smoking year
that bud got me wiser, no alcohol, beat yo’ face with an open beer
you copy, you capiche, you canadian f-g
i disrespect you and smoke the leaf off the canadian flag
your time is up and you know it’s over
i brought a map of canada put a hole where you from so i could f-ck nova scotia

[round 1: pat stay]
ha, arsonal, arsonal
ain’t a d-mn man as dark as you
you only beat dizaster cause when them lights went out no one knew who the f-ck he was talking to
christ, he could bust off his piece like, “f-ck the police”
cause if it’s dark out, arsonal is up in a tree
cops won’t find him for sh-t
unless he crumples some leaves and they crack a funny as joke and he shows a couple of t–th
wait, wait, don’t get it f-cked up, i’m just dissing his physical features
this slithering, primitive creature is so thin he could swim in his t-shirt
my girl goes to the beauty salon and asks for a pedicure
arsonal goes to the beauty salon and asks for “the predator”
he’s a school bus driver!
like how could you take him seriously y’all?
it’s not a joke, that’s his actual career, that’s his job
he prolly drove the school bus here with his dawgs singing 99 bottles of beer on the wall
you ain’t busting your tool b-tch, you busing to school
screaming at little kids that keep f-cking with you and chucking up food
threatening to cancel the field trip, pulling over on the side of the road
like, “i can turn this bus around and we can just all go home.”
wait, wait, just had to clown him right quick but let me put it down like this
i’m pat stay, canada’s champ i’m down right sl1ck
moonwalk on water with brick tied around my kicks
i am the sh-t
shake the world when i pound my fists
f-ck arsonal da rebel
you dancing in the darkness with the devil
mind power sharp enough sever, my heart’s leather
make you step back like car alarm sensors
you wouldn’t spark metal if you were an arc welder
and no matter what happens after this battle
he’ll act like he had it in the palm of his hand
but he switched it to promo a minute ago cause if he lost he’d call it a scam
you need to grow some motherf-cking b-lls and stop being scared
haul up your pants and learn to take a f-cking loss like a man
you have no backbone, you sensitive sweet
he got no criminal cases he does video statements in 1080p
i mean, if he’s able to cross the boarder he’s obviously not what he’s pretending to be
cause if canadians let him in like radio editing his record is clean

[round 2: arsonal]
like i told you on twitter, i ain’t the one for all the yelling in my face pat
that’s like midgets, and i motherf-cking hate that
you’ll get ape slapped til your neck and your face crack
white boy you’ll be black the day diddy took ma$e back
you a hockey fan
your best friend is a convict, racist -ss n-z-, klan, canadian, yugoslavian, p-ssy -ss bonti man
bishop called to say, “ars’, please k!ll pat the first month of the year.”
i said, “so you want me to take him is oxy-gen?”
he had problems with a hollohan
you must ain’t seen the fight klub what i did to the whole hollow man
man, sh-t got a little out of hand
he tried to steal my style for a while i exchanged his life for the contraband
but you? you a big b-tch, so we gon’ play the wordplay game
cause to me your wordplay lame
you say sh-t like, “moon walking in steal toe boots”
“i put that eagle to your chest like bird gang chain”
that’s cause your nostrils was decorated with cocaine stains
a real n-gga step in your face your whole domain change
p-ssy, my money done grew up
you big…as h-ll, but i f-ck you up
i stomp you in some tall dark blue chucks
bang nines at you f-cks, gang signs get threw up
then i put the piece/peace to you without chucking the deuce up
think about it
voice your opinion and sing about it
read about it, read about it, i talk cause i be about it
your outfit i beat you out it
right in front the pastor or the reverend bredren
at the alter while your church cathedral’s crowded
now that’s perfection put together so precisely
you purposely provoking me posing like you don’t like me
so if i prove with pictures
in panties pat, you gon’ fight me?
cause all that’s gonna mean is that i brian pumpered your wifey
i fingered that b-tch until her p-ssy did the rain dance
i dug in my nose and slapped your mother with the same hand
i ain’t playing with these words, i am great fam’
with nouns, aye verb will die playing hang man
p-ssy, you don’t even seem hard
i keep two desert eagles c-cked on the dashboard of your dream car
i’m on your mind, your last thought when you think hard
you couldn’t enter my city with a p-ssport and a green card
but ooh, if i catch homie, i’ma hit him with that vest on him
f-ck if he my fan, i’ll pull a ron artest on him
break down the big apple on this big b-tch
outta new york i fly my giants on them jets towards him
we met in spanish harlem, i had them jankies pull them tec’s on him
trigger finger got an itch and i’m feeling froggy
so i’ma leap onto the street and then commit a robbery
then i’m gonna leap onto the beat and then commit a homi
then i might leap onto and push my meat into your mommy
you from nova scotia, that’s where you from f-ggot
you little dumb b-st-rd
i’m ’bout to shove five canadians in one casket
you on a date your water break, you little dumb actress
i’ll break into your house then urinate on your son mattress
i sh-t on his pillowcase, give and take
lift him straight over my head, i’ll bench press him and watch his liver shake
devour your insides for breakfast on a dinner plate
then knock your t–th out like your mouth tried to renovate
game over, press the b-tton, start the simulate
i’ll bend your b-tch over, carrie weber and let my c-ck head penetrate
i got bread, i’ve been a great, i’ll pop lead, i finish fakes
i’m a pothead, i’m in at sp-ce, you’ll drop dead and get erased
i’m nice
patrick you gon’ pay the price
this world like jumanji p-ssy, you gon’ shake the dice
you’ll ace on your first roll
i f-cked your b-tch in her third hole
i’m the young n-gga with the old soul
no ice in my ears cause my lobes closed
new jewels, old clothes, pinkie ring is rose gold
i done traveled across the world and seen the whole globe
six shot dillinger empty, you’ll get the whole load
four arm clipping
you defeating me don’t look right, nah like putting a 34 on pippen
my jdp foolies they-

[organik]
alright yo we gotta call it

[round 2: pat stay]
now arsonal claims that he’s a crip
and i ain’t dissing the crip crew
it’s true, he is, his moms was a crip too
it all started when me and the clique slid through
she was on her red rag so the b-tch just blew/blue
jaws like a pitbull, suck your d-ck til she get a chipped tooth
i f-cked that b-tch in the -ss til she sounded like chip-fu having a big p–p
see that’s what she meant by a g-ngb-ng and this guy was just confused
we be filming scenes for bangbus and he drive the kids to school
yo, i’m sick of this dude fronting
he’s like, “i’m a gangsta. i’ll just shoot ya
i f-cking shot my mama in the face with a bazooka.”
he said he’ll never forget the first time he seen one die
i said, “d-mn, what’d you do?”
he said, “i picked it up shook it and rolled a five.”
moral of the story is he’s a fake, there’s nothing more for me to say
he held the door for me today and i was 40 feet away
he’s a f-cking sweetheart, he never g-ngb-nged in his life
and superman ain’t losing to this fake crip tonight/kryptonite
wait, the bus man is cripping? that sh-t is impossible
i’m letting the principle’s office know
i’ll send this b-tch to the hospital and you better bring in a doctor’s note
you go to prison and drop the soap and turn into a soccer pro
so take squidward’s clarinet and your invisible glock and go get you an -rs-nal/arsonal
see you think you tough but i ain’t conceited though
try to punk me around i- t.k.o
i could punch a hole through your chest and swing your body around like pizza dough
put you in a sleeper hold til your breathing goes
and leave you in the freezing cold til you decompose
free your soul
split your wig til you can see his skull
from hitting him with the same stick that the grim reaper holds
how’s that?
it’s like getting hit with a loud smack
i don’t pop bottles but i twist around caps
walk through the streets stomping my feet til the ground crack
you know the motherf-cking name i got this sh-t down pat
wait, but i’m just a white boy from canada right?
who cares if i’m white?
you racist piece of sh-t all you do is stereotype
well guess what
my d-cks bigger, i rap better, plus i fight live
and even in basketball the best shooters are the white guys

[round 3: arsonal]
i’m fresh off a body bag and i’m trying to see this money
i just murdered a hitman in new york that’s why i had to flee the country
last time i tried to cook, i had a little trouble crossing the boarder
cause they know i travel with a black k
boarder patrol asked me and ryan, “where y’all going?” what’d i say?
“where ever the f-ck pat stay
now either you gon’ get the f-ck out my way or give me the directions.”
he pointed that way, said your mom’s a wh0r- i might need some protection
i said, “d-mn ryan that b-tch that bad?”
he said, “ars’, i f-ck around beat pat dad
every male in canada done pinned they tail on that donkey.”
you jack-ss
your mother birthed you in a crack lab
under her white p-ssy she put a black bag
and called you a “stupid little n-gga.” when she conceived you like you had a black dad
and i said, “hold on c-cky b-tch
i beat sh-t down your leg with the bottom end of a hockey stick
your son pat ain’t got no job on his tommy sh-t
he swallow d-ck and he take meat
i call him ‘young teriyaki stick..”
now something y’all might know, in ’05 his man hollohan got jumped and he dipped
why you did that?

[pat stay]
that’s bullsh-t

[arsonal]
no, it’s not bullsh-t
he asked if you gon’ ride
you was like, “nah, i ain’t with that.”
but by you running, made it seem as if you was on the get back
it’s like you took the snap and they david beckham’d his chinstrap
he could’ve died upon impact
what you was gonna do? be a friend and take his body to nova scotia so he be sleeping where the fish at?
n-gga you talk about busting yo’ thang, you a customer fiend
you wouldn’t even give me a run for the green
your similarities to this hustling team
eddie guerrero, owen hart or turo gotti?
y’all all dead white boys who wasn’t scared to jump in the ring
now at my last battle, i was told i lived the bob saget, baptist life, right?
so i beat that n-gga to death with squidward’s clarinet cause i felt as though he lived the spongebob/patrick life
but you patrick, you a mix breed hermaphrodite
against arsonal, i’m larger than big t’s appet-te
i give and take oxygen
i be wait watching him
you always come up short with your green, you nate robinson
you talk about guns in your raps but you ain’t popping ’em
now bite the curb and watch me stomp you with suave moccasins
i run up on your dice game strapped, bank stopped again
i ain’t gotta say you unarmed, tank top again
you see me, you haul -ss, you ain’t confident
cause i rap, you talk jazz, john stockton him
you old f-ck n-gga
seven foot bum n-gga
john cena in the face -ss battle rapper, but much bigger
your b-tch mad that she stuck with ya
so she make you pay to f-ck since you “sucka free” and you just l1ck her
that b-tch suck d-ck on a private plane on an air bed
from take off to landing, non stop, she’s an airhead
i’m never sober, it’s hard to think with a clear head
when i’m done with you i’ma hang you on my wall next to my there heads
i ain’t say “deer heads” i said “there heads”
hollow da don, hitman, remy, their heads
tech-9, conceited, dizaster, their heads
okwerdz, rich dollarz, pat stay, their heads!
airhead

{organik stops arsonal again for going over the set time limit}

[round 3: pat stay]
your moms looks like beetlejuice
and the girl that he dates
looks like that cop from the first 48 who crashed and burned off his face
so i f-cked her
make your boy look better, right?
i wanted to see who’s bigger
that b-tch said his d-ck looked like e.t.’s finger
and are those strings of sh-t or locks?
you did a really sh-tty job
what type of fitted do you rock, a f-cking kitty litter box?
ayo, it’s disgusting ain’t it?
tight jeans looking like my mother’s leggings suffocating
a couple g-y kids saw him and called him a “f-cking f-ggot”
let’s bash his rep though
before his hitman holla battle i thought he had potential
that sh-t had to be off the top of his head cause that was dreadful
and whoever did arsonal’s dreads must’ve wanted him dead
cause he got murdered by a hitman and his barber put a knot on his head
and what the f-ck kind of gangsta mentions squidward’s clarinet?
yo, i bet he didn’t even know what it was and his kids were scared to death
you f-cking idiot, you got a brain like a brick
he thought black eyed peas was a youtube video of some brother taking a p-ss
he even spelled his own name wrong
a-r-s-o-n-a-l
never made it through grade 12
i raise h-ll, an arson with an -rs-nal spit flames from a caged cell
i’ll leave a hole in the middle of arsonal like the way that his name’s spelled
i’m light years beyond you, the nightmare that haunts you
f-ck rap we can scr-p right here if you want to
let’s scr-p now, i’m king kong b-tch i’ll fight til the last round
p-ssing through security is the only way you’ll get pat down
oh what you think? cause we from canada we thought y’all hard?
the bus driver, the janitor and the crosswalk guard
d-mn right i’m from scotia my d-ck’s as long as my fishing rod
your mom’s type
that b-tch a crackhead the way she be blowing that hard white
but look
he mad right now
spongebob ’bout to get stabbed right now
and yo homie, n0body where’s brown right now
man, and you said i can’t even dunk in that blog that you did
well i have a broken ankle and i just dunked on you with my b-lls on your chin
sucka

- king of the dot lyrics

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