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king of the dot - pat stay vs head i.c.e lyrics

[round 1: head ice]
i came here to break dinner with n-ggas
i’m a wolf, i share the corpse when i finish a spitter
they said “pat stay”, i said “pat’s great”
find me on the couch in the house in where pat stay
fix me a dinner, b-tch, i want pat’s plate
waiting for your -ss to come home so i could wax stay
she nervous, she telling me yo he cross-dress
ain’t nothing ’bout him threatening at all
don’t wanna hear that, where the beer at?
cause now he gotta step in the woods to get his dear back
rappers don’t be talking my talk unless they air that
so you say you walking that walk, to me it’s airmax
tired of waiting so i shot her
they’ll tell you how many times at the doctor
pour your heart out your boxers
man up, i’ll put you down like a boxer
so you’re slipping now you’re caught, n-gga
get your issue, you tried dissing a new york n-gga
you bra-strapped, come to that combat
pair of t-tties for b-llsack, i’ll blow off your ballcap
hollohan’ll get shot with you
armed criminal, lay them down with a cop issue
i’m on your block with the rock movin’
telling n-ggas how we survive all those cop shootings
he telling suckas he sucka free
then catch a tantrum and first thing he do is suck his t–th
your bars wack, f-ck if you like
i sock brother then box cutter, f-ck up his height
when you rap you sound my color, f-ck all the hype
till i look you into your eyes like we nothing alike
so pat here, pap smear
n-ggas ain’t checking for p-ssy that got dad’s beards
you the laughing stock
wouldn’t respect you if you had a flag or you rapped like pac
was all good till them buyers came in
and that last laugh was that last blast and left that lobby painted
running through gr-ss, trash, gl-ss, giving stacks to cabs
and get back where i be hangin’
me and my gun been through so much sh-t together; potty training
i said but wait, let me see that moonwalk
if i was the halifax hockey coach, i’ll sick my goon on you
then tell him to moon on you
ice!

[round 1: pat stay]
since that sh-t i said against marv and the saurus
y’all gave me a bad name
they say i’m a shock value rapper now
but they don’t know the biography of pat stay
see i have autistic family as well and my father’s on his last legs
my homie just got murdered too
they popped him with his back swayed
but i guess i’m the bad guy now
so my opponents be on some hero sh-t
i’m already set up to lose so f-ck it
i’ll say what i want, i ain’t scared of sh-t
you playing russian roulette with a gun to your head
watch the barrel spin
pat stay, bruce b’s last bang through a collapsed vein
let the hero win
see everyone went soft since then
in the crowd looking like they just lost a friend
scared to react to my sh-t
so they stand there like a b-tch and just nod their heads
the saurus didn’t care ’bout them father lines
why the h-ll y’all upset?
autistic people see me in the streets
and be like “rethpect dawg, rethpect!”
i’m that scotian lion, a cobra bitin’
the east coast giant, you can’t stone goliath
kobe bryant in the quarterfinals with no one by him and he’s on fire
so bright you’d think my brain had ultraviolet bulbs inside it
somali pirate, get your f-cking boat off my island
bow on my side, i’d close one eye -fwwp-, you’re floating beside it
a storm is arising, the planet’s formed an alignment
you’re in the eye of a hurricane twirling inside it
boom! you hit the ground at a vertical spiral
barbarian, i skin wolves and rock their fur for survival
yeah, give me that eye contact
‘fore i contact with your eyeball like an eye-contact
time bomb wrapped around you like python
when my watch tap, your head explode, put some ice on that!
boom!

[round 2: head ice]
pat, you gon’ do what outside the flat screen?
pat, you half a f-g and half a drag queen
i smack both tonsils down your neck
use my soles, it’ll look like broncos hit your chest
you ain’t never catch a body, what you fronting for?
just looking like a body, keep that fronting on
you probably feeling like you safe but i doubt that
by time organik say “ice, chill!” i’m on my house jack
probably telling loaded lux i had to body something
he was coming at my moms, i hit the gotti b-tton
bare hand k!lls but look like shotties touched him
how i’m supposed to let pat live if my daddy wouldn’t?
we off that, your two carriers one pitcher and the lookout? i ball stack
you looking like dinner with new silverware; fork that
feel your flow is fine wine, that’s why you shake like a moscato bottle; cork that
if y’all forget about the ransom money and they never get they boss back
i put that on devon stone
for every n-gga you gave head and bone
when every bullet fled the chrome
there’ll be nothing but empty pepsi cans left
from when you and hollohan be getting stoned
he mad right now
he ready to take off both earrings and stop being a f-g right now
you look like your dad right now
i bet you’d still lose to swave sevah’s pops in a flash right now
dumb sh-t you say…
i’m still a man behind those bars; the mutulu way
i would ask for more rounds
but he’ll get outcl-ssed and p-ssed out; the zab juda way
so somebody tell his hash brown that if he cl-ss clown
he shouldn’t play grounds around this school today
and tell peter, your punk brother
he more than nuts for asking about me, he c-m-colored
ice!

[round 2: pat stay]
this is a death match, no submission
forrest griffin vs. otis nixon – ice
blast a motherf-cker for a bucket of boneless chicken – spiced
for that suicide sauce he’d go to prison – for life
when waitressses bring him teriyaki, he k!lls them – nice
he’s that old man in the hood who always got a f-cking story to tell
boring as h-ll, “yeah i used to drink 40s in jail
i’m like a animal, i was actually born with a tail
you think you got it bad, my beds are wooden board with nails”
he says him and all the murderers had a mutual respect in jail
they used to play musical electric chairs
but to cross the border you can’t have a scratch on your record
so if all your stories are true, i gotta ask you a question
if you’s a felon, i like to know how you got yourself here
oh you must’ve jumped in one of your big -ss guns
and just f-cking shot yourself here
i mean, it’s just weird, he gets charged with a felon
but his record is crystal clear
it’s like he slipped and dropped in quicksand;
he fell and he disappeared
ice is the biggest snitch in the game
if he gets caught the whole block gets arrested
not even stressin’
they’ll have the charges against him dropped in a second
this man got caught with possession, -ssault with a weapon
shot a detective, officer jenkins
stomped him to death, chopped off his head
left his body in segments
walked in court, calm and collected, said “i taught him a lesson”
the judge asked if he at least brought a defendant
he said, “no, absolutely not your honor, i meant it”
in fact he didn’t call him honor, he called him a f-ggot
judge caught him in bed with his wife
and asked him if he wanted some breakfast
they play wwf music in court
when he walks through the entrance
he bounces like the rock when he steps in
and does a tatanka impression
you ever turn your back on me homie
i’ll be knocking you senseless
that’d be normal, he has been in prison
he’s just hopping in position
and you say i smoked a rock? yeah, i do know what that’s like
i’ll cremate your body and put your ashes on my crack pipe

[round 3: head ice]
you too soft to talk street sh-t, but wanna he hard
sniff c0ke, crack jokes, and yell “i wanna be loved”
darkside, mark wide
knowing that you care being soft, the heart kind
you can hear cap guns bust and you horse-fly
so beef, if pat’s in one then more dies
bad enough, he ain’t trigger bangin’
so if you riding and you dying for all that sh-t he sayin’
square-feet you dead meat in the situation
i’m that bold, i’ll mac holler that sh-t you paintin’
punk p-ssy, i should’ve spit with it
tell your b-tch i said f-ck her, eat a d-ck with it
and she cut like a man, you probably arm wrestle
may the best man win, you two’s an odd couple
hope you die with your hand on her d-ck
and she die with her hand on your t-ts – that type of odd couple
f-ck boy, your b-tt moist
you wave your arm in the air to sound the truck noise
you’d get chased in my hood, i put money on it
just for stepping in them esco jeans
with your spandex shirt like, “let’s go eat”
and some open toe slippers and them two earrings
i’m bona fide, pat, n-gga i’m more than ride
b-tch i park and walk to a homicide, g’d up
them weed blunts
gon’ have nothing left but your timbs; tree stumps
see now i got to groove on him
three piece type of swag with the shoes on him
i’m mike jack in his past, montana for the cash
jc type of dance how i move on him
broke, but my house rich, so i put on a gun before a outfit
still listen to pun and some of styles sh-t
before i run in the crib, no cat and mouse sh-t
now pardon my bag, strut my shoulders
somebody tell the boss this what i does to dojas
pound of weed, he on the road to closure
and i’m ’bout to f-ck a b-tch out of nova scotia
i put the head of my d-ck inside your kool-aid
cause you was p-ssy before your crew name
ice!

[round 3: pat stay]
your girl looks like giant gonzales
look at the size of his nostrils, i bet you’re getting sucked up there like the f-cking magic school bus
and getting in this big fight with his tonsils
ain’t no b-tch making you home fries, dawg
you’d be lucky to get fries from mcdonalds
you old trout, you know he’s old as sh-t
he did that moonwalk you could see his -ss wobble
see you on som atari sh-t, my game’s too advanced for y’all
i banged his ex’ box, now she can’t keep her panties on
her friend wanted ps too so i slammed the broad
i got that smooth game to control her and a log
show her that the man’s the boss, hand across her face
like, “um excuse me, is my sandwich lost?”
yeah yeah, your mom died, whatever b-tch, the game is on
make her open my beer with her t–th till she breaks her jaw
but wait, i love her home fries, i love her-love her home fries
look at him, starving as sh-t, stomach grumbling the whole time
i wanna know why, i wanna-wanna know why
the h-ll you keep giving me these motherf-cking old guys
boss status, cause static that be cutting up your phone line
you looking for a problem then you struck a f-cking gold mine
roll by slow, in a bucket got a four-five
clip to your neck like you b-tton up a bow tie
oh you mad cause a white boy stylin’ on you
take a swing on me, man i’ll f-cking power bomb you
mess with me, you’d be the next jimmy
wet w-lly you so hard i have a bent pinky
a f-cking robot joints oil and i don’t smoke pot
bullets flying out of my chest bigger than cold shots
load, c-ck, aim, dome shot bang, brain goes pop
if your watch is frozen you’ll get cold clocked
oh dawg, i’m a d-mn beast, zangief, slam me
i’ll even fight you hands free and feet
eyes closed with a blindfold so i can’t see
i’m from the motherf-cking dark side, a wolf don’t scare me
sucka free, your punches weak like math hoffa
so act proper and get slumped like bad posture
spinal fracture, i’m your chiropractor, back doctor
straighten you out, laid on the ground like an ab rocker
white boy and i strike like a black mamba
half monster, sasquatch, stomp ya
so go ahead, say you cl!ck that trigga
you’s a lying–ss, snitch–ss, b-tch–ss… time!

- king of the dot lyrics

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