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king of the dot - charron vs. rum nitty lyrics

[round 1: charron]
it’s charron vs. cornell
you ’bout to get owned, i been known
on tv but this home
you think i’d turn my back on battle rap? i ain’t that b-tch rone
flip mo’
b-tch don’t
sleep on me because of my skin tone
rum got the kid f-cked up; fetal alcohol syndrome
they said it’s real deal for the chain, i’m raisin’ my voice
i’m the one makin’ y’all noise
trevor don’t want this smoke with corey, it ain’t the trailer park boys
you’se a fake crip, and you and i different
i know why he didn’t throw up that c for (c-4), this a suicide mission
i ain’t a new bull, resume long as manute bol
i’ll break down this crip ’til he see (c) r.i.p. on his tombstone
real deal, fresco, who’s home?
i’ll have danny myers on ice, i’m too cold!
what up boss town?
been in this league since 17, won’t stop now
i’m bigg k on twitter, all i do is hold the block down
i got a playbook for all you b-tches, i’m barney stinson
they’ll see (c) how i took k out, i started crippin’
and now it’s “bye p-ss” (byp-ss); heart condition
they gave me an award (a. ward), that was a stupid death; darwinism
he’s hardly winnin’
bet against charron then i’m chargin’ a bag
it ain’t a car collision
when it cost you angryfans an arm and a leg
yo ‘ganik, i spent 200k for oxxxy, this a body round 1
you’re a sh-tty bartender, i asked for a white russian and got a watered down rum
crew hoppin’, that’s what he is about
you rep homi, 4th quarter, lsc? you need a key for some help
i’m old school like will farrell, i’m on the street by myself
ain’t no helpin’ ya, dead bodies, selfin’ ya
the way i’m doin’ rum? ham, it’s always sunny in philadelphia
that racist angle, cut it out right now
don’t say this for el paso or justice for mike brown
if i see a racist pig, i’ll get mine
instead of a black kid, i hope it’s a crooked cop next time
the motto has always been “f-ck 12”; tech 9
callin’ me racist isn’t a great style
i still think lotto beat rabbit in 8 mile
against a. ward it was wu-tang; k!llah priest
now it’s yung joc; nitti (nitty) beats
was supposed to be bachir but i’m a different beast
yo cambridge, you know you’re the man when dizaster ducks you in the middle east
i hope your son throws up a “b” on his next exam
pay my shooters an extra grand
you rum in the middle east, that only gets you banned
it ain’t home sweet home when this desert land
take the c out when i put the k to [?]; metal band
they say he’s the “patriot of gun bars” this for the brady fans
soon as i drew, he bled so (bledsoe) much they replaced the man
i call this “belichick”, with the 12 i had a crazy plan
but this 12’s been ringin’ so much i just start changin’ hands
they say you’re the “mj of gun bars” to me that’s not important
they said the same with k, peep my roc performance
this a mirror match, you wear fake j’s and i knock of jordans
the url k!ller, they forgot the motto
no one wants to see this white boy black; tom macdonald
i do the job, you don’t keep it real yourself
you decide, suicide, just look at me when you k!ll yourself

[round 1: rum nitty]
i’m ’bout to pull two thumpers out and slap you
all you hear is the beats up top, don’t be f-ckin’ up the battle
after this, you’re ’bout to get everything outta the tool
i’ll trail you, to your car and pull your card

[geechi]
what is you doin’?

[rum]
followin’ suit
aye we got rum nitty, “mr. .50 blam”…lift the can’…trigger hands
versus, current event, reb-ttal, hitler hands
aye movie bars is somethin’ you gotta deal wit’
at least a couple of ’em, y’all knew what it was
billy pistolz? man how you get bodied in bodied?; buddy love
i ain’t finna take ya light world, i’m a motherf-ckin’ monster, these n-gg-s type scary
cause i’m beastin’ (bee sting) on everything; macaulay culkin in my girl
every f-cking bar
i don’t think ya dawg shootin’
but if you are shootin’, i’ll pull up and air back out the window; swamp cooler
i won’t even let the squad do it, i got two k’s (2k), but i ain’t tryin’ to p-ss the sticks, i’ma sore loser
your boy’s stupid, clueless, use ya mind
you starin’ at a goat; george clooney
aye, i know you not active really, so i’m not listenin’ to what this f-ggot tell me
i can’t hear you, i’m death to the fake; machiavelli
i’ll f-ck around and slap charron
clap charron
sniper rifle posted, scopin’
i’ll see where you at charron
i’m watchin’ over you with super vision (supervision); this sh-t a chaperone
this n-gg- look up to pat stay, but he don’t really try to
he’s in denial
it makes sense, that punk known for rock, of course he’s billy idol
lift the rifle
spot you, [?]
loud shot, f-cked up my hearing; different trial
i’m skippin’ trial, aye, if a n-gg- try you, dawg get aired
pull up, in the midnight ridin’, let off the steel
somethin’ from the taurus, tore through his house; paul revere
this my motherf-ckin’ spot for real
you either move on or get moved out
you tommy pickles lookin’ in the face -ss
don’t make me pull up with the tool out
palm the grip, .38, infrared on the tip
now there is a light that shines on it special for you, use your common sense
you’re gonna die fam’
you finna die fam’
i’ll send you to jesus, become an angel, i made you wing it; improvised plan
lift up my cans
two smith’s, i’ll shoot ’em at will; gemini man
don’t play wit’ me
they like, “nitty, you ’bout to go put on a show for them white folks?”
i will, and grace-fully
blade wit’ me, get stuck by ya side; faithfully
then get it all in ya head since you make believe
smokin’ sh-t what i be on, to be frank, nitty ran with al capone (kapone)
b-tch, you can’t keep it real yourself
(suicide or i’ll do the job, you decide, k!ll yourself!)
b-tch!

[round 2: charron]
aye, aye, aye, he says all i do is film references, i guess you want some more movies
always starin’ at a goat, you think he’s george clooney
well guess who k!lled him? yours truly
see people, they don’t really wanna get that ’til i put it to his melon
you got your hands up like you don’t know, i ain’t gonna tell on ya
tommy pickles, one punch, swellin’ ya
i’m lookin’ down on this little kid; angelica
they say he’s the goat puncher, he had one that really move me
against tax you said, “your sister’s the biggest groupie
she gave the whole town dome like, the simpson’s movie
that bar flames
but how you gon’ steal a line i used against arcane?
both bars bit and i give a f-ck when you start crippin’
out of principle i’ll give this c more (seymour) problems than bart simpson
your girl lets every mister (mr.) plow, it’s a nice old job
she rakes in more with her head than sideshow bob
that was my line, why’d you take it though?
stole my idea, now i’m lightin’ rum up, that’s a flamin’ bowl
shuttin’ rum down like rex banner
the right? hit like a sledge hammer
well i got somethin’ for every left hander like ned flanders
if we heat grippin’ i’ll deep ditch him
i’m stupid with the gun; chief wiggum
when this auto (otto) bust (bus) all your kids go
let a clip blow
i just registered the maggie, simpsons intro
see i didn’t write a segue to get into these gun bars sooo it’s pistolz time
bigga .9
you crippin’? now your team is dead
put a bullet in geechi’s head
it’s like i’m guessin’ in multiple choice, i’m just fillin’ up c’s with lead
crazy, don’t know what to think
you start shoot-
look at me when i’m k!lling you!
look at me when i’m k!lling you!

[rum nitty]
you’re losing

[charron]
crazy, don’t know what to think, start shootin’, i won’t even blink
i’ll pull out the sig’ (cig’) after rum, i only smoke when i drink
sorry player, we’ll get to those fake jordans later
the first couple rounds, corey’s favor
white boy in boston, 2-0; gordon hayward
and don’t reb-ttal it by dunkin’ neither
your girl knew i’m from toronto, i just f-ck and leave her
soon as i shoot my shot, she sat on it…i’m kawhi with that buzzer beater
hoop season, casket, that’s what you leave in
ya crew leakin’, i’m the opposite of my mom’s food, i’m too seasoned
i battled twork on five days didn’t miss a step, i had flips on deck
i’m like the url, i’m even better without prep
is we crippin’ yet? your sister blue (blew), didn’t hit it yet
red stripe bottle, just got a little neck
don’t interject, i never stall
geechi? don’t get involved
i got bodies inside of bodies; russian nesting doll
it’s death for y’all
they wanna do this, but watch how i’m checkin’ y’all
i’m the most deadly think mixed with smack since fentanyl
eff your whole style, the smack k!ller, his death was so vile
you gettin’ drug up and down m-ss ave, this the methadone mile
i’m always there to ride ain’t scared of crime, i never snitch, i’m prepared for time
this white boy wouldn’t sing if they put on ‘sweet caroline’
rum pourin’ on the pavement, r.i.p
they start to scream and put this p-ssy on a shirt; carter deems
with the hardest team, i got a family full of animals; arthur reed
scratch that, all you see is the fist; arthur meme
do you want a blade or an arm from me?
it’s rum shot, rum shot, this bacardi’s free
or put a knife to son and start spikin’ rum like cardi b
whether it’s the chef or chilla, this is up my lane
drake curse, when i’m in the picture it switches up the game
i’ll flip another house, you can flip another name
the real gun bar king; billy pistolz for the chain

[round 2: rum nitty]

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