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labattlegroundz - danny myers vs coffee brown lyrics

[round 1: danny myers]
before y’all hear danny rap about this shootin’ sh-t i’m handy at
i’m going to take this moment… to give this b-tch her panties back
{danny pulls panties out of his pocket}
b-tch look at this
you call yourself “my queen” wanna walk around in some tight jeans
want a man to kiss yo’ -ss, but can’t take care of yo’ hygiene
ain’t this a b-tch, why i’m so frustrated? give this a whiff
y’all do sh-t like this then tell a man he supposed to l1ck the cl-t
they sought me out cause these hoes been tripping that’s why they brought me out
this some sh-t i had to express so (espresso) i’m up in coffee house
f-ck you talkin’ ’bout, evil sh-t, i’ll let the desert eagle rip
this for all them times i couldn’t tell my b-tch was f-cking cause of that keegle sh-t
i should squeeze this p-ssy, but i’d rather put the shotty behind this broad
it’s ionic you rep the mafia, cause it’s really gotti behind these bars
coffee brown, my homie wrote me, he said “you clown stupid fools”
“when i get out, i’ma see you…p.s.,(ups) what can brown do for you?”
today’s actually my birthday, you going to the pearly gates bless you
as a gift, they gave me a target to make .38 special
i’ll sock one of yo’ n-ggas just to sock you, it’s gone be adios
that means i’ll steal a n-gga just to give you this punch like bonnie ghost
i don’t waste time to slaughter ’em
i you know you be in san bernardino sellin’ p-ssy on baseline and waterman
do you believe in a parallel universe?
(i do!)
you a hopeless ratchet
because you can’t keep your box closed, you’ll be dead in a open casket
hooker, hoe, harlot, prost-tute, jezebel, it ain’t a thing to you
b-tch even if you already married, all those names should have a ring to you
i’m mean to you, you nasty b-tch, ya whole image is damaged
you change yo’ pad, don’t wash yo’ hands, then make yo’ n-gga a sandwich
you copied all the women from new york, now you got the right to battle?
that’s right? you ain’t even listen to god when he told not to bite the apple
b-tch get pregnant, let me find out, you gon’ see fatal errors
i’ll feed your baby before it come out, that’s prenatal care
i can’t front, you ain’t ugly, i had to clown this baddie
tell yo son i asked 300 hundred n-ggas and still ain’t found his daddy
and even though she already on the ground with this sh-t

[vicki myers]
this wack mc got a whole ‘nother round of this sh-t!

[danny]
yikes!

[round 2: danny myers]
i’ll show you how us men do
i’m a f-ckin’ goat wit’ that pencil
you was talkin’ ’bout saudi arabia, i’ll crack you over the head with this bottle, i show you what that hen’ do (hindu)
how did you feel…the first time you sold p-ssy, at the snooty fox, suckin that white d-ck?
he turned on the light switch, threw you 12 dollars but nothing to wipe with
on your knees, mouth open, ready to receive his c-m
you thinkin’ to yourself “lord forgive me, i’m trying to feed my son.”
this moral dilemma, manifest the aura within ya
this only yo’ fifth battle but you not a oral beginner
how ironic, you use your mouth to get ahead (a head) wit’ it
you had so many abortions ya p-ssy still got legs in it
no respect for me though
they cut our umbilical then wonder why we don’t connect to these hoes
i won’t hit a woman? sh-t, i’ll explode on this b-tch
up up, down down, left, right, aye b (ab), she’ll be cold (code) in this b-tch
i’ll take a hold of the grip, ya whole house better be evacuated
i know coffee has a kick, so i aim at the calf and ate it (decaffeinated)
one’ll buck you, you fall, i stand over you with the gun above you
before you die, i reveal which one of ya uncles f-cked you
you talk a gang of sh-t, she was looking for a mark, and she thought she found it
i don’t like coffee filter, so i gotta get coffee grounded
you sl-t bucket, you one of them hoes that has to be sm-tted
you told yo’ baby daddy you was pregnant two seconds after he nutted
i know it’s foul, but you the biggest hoe around
yo’ baby was chewing on a condom in the ultra sound
black queen? you can save that for the next guest
all these b-tches think they’re nefert-ti until their necks stretched
ron compton and geechi gotti be running trains on you
just to put you on this card alcatraz got some brain from you
shame on you, i’ll put the whole squad on a hoe
you’re mary magdalene, tryna f-ck with the god on the low
i can’t front, you still cute, but i gotta clown this baddie
tell yo son i asked 500 mo’ n-ggas, and still ain’t found his daddy
and even though you already on the ground with this sh-t
this wack mc got a whole ‘nother round of this sh-t
yikes!

[round 3: danny myers]
b. dot told me the black woman was god…odd
does god condemn a man cause he don’t have a job?
does god take a man and woman and fuse’em as a blessin’?
produce a seed, then take that child and use’em as weapon?
does god judge a man on what he owns truly?
does god wear a lot of weave cause he ain’t proud of his own beauty?
you the same b-tch, have yo’ son in the living room while a n-gga d-ckin’ down yo’ ribs
then have the nerve to tell his daddy don’t bring no b-tches ’round yo’ kids
take off yo’ wig and yo’ make up, let me look at yo’ plain -ss
you think you cause you got off the county all a sudden you done gained cl-ss?
wait, county? gain cl-ss? ya whole camp’ll get hit
yo’ crew is food, so i snap cause y’all stampin’ this b-tch
you a tramp in this b-tch, fifty n-ggas in the telly scr-ped her
this the same triflin hoe that was talkin ’bout nelly raped her
you old ‘desperate housewives of battle rap’ lookin -ss b-tch
i hope you get ovarian cancer
and die alone, won’t no man marry a dancer
you won’t be involved with anything with the word “bridal” this year
a man turns on a movie, you suck his d-ck before the t-tle appears
i can’t be rivaled in here i’m buckin’ the fifth for my kinfolk
my n-ggas out here duckin’ the stick, they playing limbo
k!ll you? nah..i’m tryna bring you h-ll sister
i’ma slowly tear off ya cl-t with a finger nail clipper
get yo’ -ss in the kitchen cause in here y’all can’t cook like a n-gga
y’all leave men, just to get a b-tch…that look like a n-gga
all y’all do is set us up, tryna send us to the higher ups
i can’t talk no business ’round this b-tch, you know coffee’ll have you wired up
this n-gga myers tough, throw a vigil for this b-tch, put ya lighters up
stop battle rappin’, you hoes belong on a fire truck
b-tch look at me, i’m the battle rapper that you couldn’t see
i should pimp hand back slap you cause i like my coffee suga free
i can’t front, you still cute, but i had to slam this baddie
tell yo’ son i confess, i am his daddy
and even though, she on the ground with this sh-t
thank the lord she don’t got another round of this sh-t
yikes!

- labattlegroundz lyrics

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