urltv - arsonal vs. hitman holla lyrics
[round 1: hitman holla]
i’m a different type of drug homie, i’m wrapped up packin’ strife
what’s all the att-tude for? oh, ’cause you ain’t half as nice?
talkin’ ’bout you ran blocks
n-gga in ya school bus you wouldn’t run traffic lights
arsonal ain’t worth smackin’
yo shotgun if i smack him, i still don’t get braggin’ rights
you around kids all day, how the f-ck you live the savage life?
you got that full house, bob saget, baptist life
soft -ss crip
he’ll probably bleed to death if i grazed him with a fabric wipe
since he be around schools, cool i could calculate
hop on his bus i’m yellin’, “kids evacuate!”
look at the camera like it’s holla, i’ma fry his face
pick up the desi, blackboard you get dry erased
don’t play me dumb my n-gga, i’m a scholar cat
you don’t really think that you better, i could honor that
i’m in newark new jersey, they whisperin’ that’s that holla cat
they shoot, i’m firin’ back, yellin’ out, “roger that!”
in the east to where they rockin’ the dodger’s hat
beyonce’s hometown back up to where the pirates at
fall back and take a l, you ain’t got a choice h-ll
leave his throat in an envelope
then i send it to his folks: that’s a voicemail
on a scale of one to 10 your raps about a zero
y’all put the new villain against a guitar hero
who you think you foolin’ ars, you bring cops through
gangstas, k!llas, thugs—i bring the block through
his homeboy keep talkin’ while i’m rappin’, not cool
the contract said i can’t hit this n-gga, not you!
all that g-ngb-ngin’ liftin’ the 40 up, not true!
here’s a list of some stupid sh-t you should not do
i come around, you around, do not move!
don’t crack a smile, i’m not ya pal, we’re not cool
you gold fishes not allowed in the croc’ pool
and if they jump in understand that they croc’ food
with that bein’ said that leave him with two options
first spit ya verse, keep it rap
we can put on a show you know for the folks watchin’
or two, get stupid and instead of youtube, smack gon’ have to upload this footage and send it to most shocking
we can fight or shoot it out, it’s whatever, let’s have a slug fest
at any minute i’ll drop him, i’m like a drug test
shout out to them 60 crips, where them bloods at?
gd’s, vice lords, grape? you never was that
be yourself, that’s what you oughta do
you ain’t never been in the field, show me a scar or two
hitman, i’m one human being but got the heart of two
if you don’t understand my warning i bet ya daughter do
ball game!
[round 1: arsonal]
i’ll slap you so hard, ya baby mother other baby father gon’ hate me
now say somethin’ ’bout grape street watch them n-ggas go crazy
i was born in the 80’s, i was torn as a baby
f-ck you was on that made you think you was gon’ erase me
i spit, you spit, he relapses
you, remy, verb next, three caskets
someone please tell the dinininon i don’t do rematches
my name arsonal, don’t act like y’all don’t remember me
i’m the same n-gga that tortured you right after flamin’ remyd
now i’m supposed to show dude some sympathy
’cause his first charge was wanderin’
and he just did three months for mistaken ident-ty
i got that syrup fiend beggin’ me
i got that metal thing next to me
just seen verb play grand pops through gerald’s teen pregnancy
your son he a nice kid and i know he like his pops
i’ll introduce him to that night stick ’cause i know he watches cops
to prevent his -ss from actin’ wild
i shoulda pistol whipped his baby mother in the bellyb-tton
while she was pregnant with ya f-ggot child
i’m disrespectful f-ck it, whatever you wanna call it
ya son shoulda been a miscarriage pool of blood floatin in ya toilet
his father gon’ be p-ssy regardless
he ain’t gon’ grow up to be sh-t
brenda shoulda threw your baby in the garbage
but me ain’t no need for actin’, n-gga you see i’m crackin’
you softer than that n-gga that be barkin’ when conceited rappin’
like “eat ’em!” and you know you can’t beat him!
you hold hostages, you deprive little girls of their freedom
and you look like a saudi arabian, dominican, ethiopian
at lost so that puerto rican
now when i get home and the bank don’t clear the check
i’m back in newark airport, i’m jumpin’ on the nearest jet
i come to st. louis to clear your set
beat everybody on his block to death with squidward’s clarinet
you got a swag like mr. krabs, just a f-g
waitin’ for xzibit to knock on ya door and pimp ya cab
no racks, i’ma bang you with the left
’til i see that small intestine start to dangle out ya chest
i’ma choke you ’til you claim you out of breath
i’ma bang bang you with the tec on the roof
and then i’ma slang you down the steps
i’m a gangsta, i b-tchslap a b-tch rapper
and i just made this hitman holla after that natural disaster
i carjack you, you will not get ya honda back
six hadouken then an open e. honda slap
two sonic booms and then show you where my blanka at
then switch cartridges, slowly equip my contra gat
i come to ya breakfast, shove ya head in the d-mn eggs
rip ya torso, watch ya blood pour slow on ya pancakes
kick in the front door and shove ya face in the fan blade
rampage, you gon need a lifesize bandaid
one call will make the homies touch you
you’ll get punched in the face with a fist full of rings
and think kobe snuck you
ya b-tch just a fiend that isn’t clean
i made her suck ya d-ck with a mouth full of peroxide and listerine
now ya sh-t burn ’cause her lips burn
you sizzy slippin’ and twitchin’
like smokey when he was talkin’ to big worm
ya baby mother named chippy d fishburne
ya big homie 36 with no sideburns and a sl!ck perm
you talk cash money, you ain’t got no dough
no bread, no cheese, you got a nacho flow
i rain on this n-gga parade, wear a poncho
shut the f-ck up n-gga, it’s not ya go
ya name hitman holla
[round 2: hitman holla]
i always knew you was a fraud ars’
you the type that ain’t never shot a sh-ll
i mean you a cool dude
but let me let y’all in on a secret about darrell
y’all remember when he got on youtube bluffin’?
him and t-rex goin’ back and forth about a whole lot of nothin’
arsonal swore up-and-down he clap tec’s
i remember like it was yesterday
he said, “at the next url event i’ma smack rex.”
i said, “d-mn, dude might be gangsta.”
i miss that? you sh-ttin’ me
who was on that card smack? ill, surf, ice, tech, hollow and big t
for some strange reason i f-ckin’ believed him
not all rappers lie, i mean well over most of ’em
but make a long story short, i spotted both of them
i said, “aww sh-t, any time now arsonal should be approachin’ him!
he should take that angle and smack him that way…”
in my head i started coachin’ him
he turned around and saw rex and saw me and did this
man i saw the ghost in him
his heart beatin’ fast, he nervous, i’m losin’ hope for him
i gave him the benefit of the doubt like maybe he too sober
he don’t wanna f-ck up the battles, he probably waitin’ til it’s over
we get outside, that’s on my mom’s children
n-gga waved bye to every rapper in the building
you f-ckin’ disgrace, you let ya whole block down
’cause if a st. louis n-gga made a threat
what time is it? a n-gga would be gettin’ shot now
i give a f-ck about you poppin’ a bottle, i don’t drink ho
i thought you was supposed to check me in person, i ain’t think so
fake -ss, mark -ss, fraud -ss n-gga been lyin’ longer than kirilenko
look me in my eyes, i’ll punch you if you even blink slow
st. louis missouri, yeah call us the battle state
shots in that polo horse ’til that saddle break
his homie come around he frontin’, put on his battle face
see me and then get to shakin’, you just a rattled snake
who bang with him? pull ya salary out
pow pow, that .50 cal knock some calories out
grindtime charged him, i take them batteries out
since he think he so cold i knock ya allergies out
i’m a grown man’s man who chose to bring a child in
you had a better chance of winnin’ throwing the towel in
my career runnin’ thousands after thousands
his career darrell jones clean up, where? aisle 10
you a herb that’ll squeal, a nerd with a deal
ain’t worthy of my sk!lls, just resemblance
y’all rep the states, i ball, i put on them jersey’s for real
[round 2: arsonal]
first of all ya mother played professional rugby
she the goalie during soccer season
you wear the thongs and ya b-tch do the boxer briefin’
i’m in the south where all year round it’s chopper season
give me a proper reason
cop and squeezin’, holla stop ya breathin’
where you wanna be? in front of me is the last place
put a pump in ya mouth holla, and ask you how that gas taste
make you kiss ya b-tch now in her tongue, you got that
you starin’ at that b-tch with that i ate -ss face
ewww that’s some nasty -ss kinky sh-t
b-tch look like rasheed wallace with nappy -ss kinky twist
herpes on ya ding-a-ling and that’s why you think you sick
he f-ckin’ b-tches raw with that lumped up stinky d-ck
you movin’ white for eazy chip, easy b-tch
i aim above ya brim, i squeeze slow, leave you leakin’ quick
i knock them sh-ts out that you eatin’ with
you go above the rim i pull a birdy on any n-gga that think he flip
get it? i sn-tch ya ball cap fitted
i done traveled across the world, we use all that pivot
ya b-tch don’t sell the p-ssy, we just call that rented
no walls somehow even my car crashed in it
you gangsta, that don’t at all matter, to me you a fraud rapper
i carjack ya then pistol whip you ’til ya jaw shatter
headb-tt hard hat ya, reach into ya b-tch p-ssy
pull ya daughter out and feed ya new born ya gallbladder
i’ll pay a greedy b-tch to squeeze ya d-ck until ya b-lls splatter
you wouldn’t be a big man if you was sh-g or pau gasol ladder
you lil’ dumb -ss, under 21 -ss, bum -ss
special ed only had one cl-ss, lil b-tch, lil d-ck premature c-m -ss
used to let the school bully sh-t in ya lunch bag
n-gga, little p-ssy -ss pervert
hitman holla? ya name gerald dean girbert
ya b-tch suckin’ spit ’til i ej-cul-te yogurt
you the type open the freezer and stick yo sh-t in the sherbet
now i’m a dog, no fraternity or gold boots
i’ll name marlon and don’t n0body really no juice
see i’m crippin’ but i don’t know snoop
i know verb and he a b-tch
he ain’t got sh-t but some kids and a gold tooth
nothin’ to show for, no car, no chauffeur
no coupe, no four door, n-gga that’s not couture
holla you sure you want all of this? i advise you call it quits
before the rebel start to ball his fist
dash came to st. louis and saw ya b-tch
actin’ wild, blackin’ out, actin’ wild
for a black and mild and a harbor mist
now that there dumb, i’ll dare yung
to put his hands to me and shoot my black -ss the fair one
you the type of n-gga i pop with a flair gun
straight disrespect you
dig in my nose and put the snot in ya ear drum
i don’t wear a mask, i rob this n-gga bare face, bare -ss
put ya full structure in a full body air cast
in a hospital fill his oxygen tank up filled with tear gas
make sure his car in a deer crash
without the seat belts and airbags
that b-tch ain’t yours n-gga, you share -ss
you wonderin’ why grindtime ain’t call you?
’cause you dirty n-ggas is pure -ss
look he sad with his head down so i’m talkin’ and walkin’ with you
that target i’m gonna rip you with rocket launcher missiles
you gonna need bounty, the quilted picker up and lots of toilet tissues
’cause when that glock and that 40 hit you
from marvin the martians pistol
i’m ’bout my money, i need more bread
and i be d-mned if i lose to a n-gga that think he cornbread
i’m the n-gga eatin’ chicken wings, four legs
why is your head shaped like a camel back on a horse head?
go ahead and talk about the bol dreads
and how you gon’ pull ’em out one by one until i got a bald head
you’re an informant, you call feds
you 28 years old at ya mommy house
and you still sleep in ya car bed
you got a twin size lamborghini, ya pillow where ya trunk at
ya father name houdini and his widow is a hunchback
i f-cked ya mother mouth, i put my d-ck where her tongue at
she said my throat kidnapped my seed and you not gettin’ ya son back
[round 3: hitman holla]
in other words, 4th quarter, cool show me primetime
this n-gga first down marker on the sideline
yeah i’m from a dangerous city so i’m ’bout mine
arsonal i’m built for this game, i made the guidelines
uppercuts, hooks and jabs, we don’t box sh-t
glock clips, you wouldn’t block these shots with josh smith
soo-woo, what’s poppin’ what that bread about?
five point flag on the weapon, show him what red about
one phone call and the whole mob is headin’ out
snip him, st-tch him, doctors will have to thread him out
f-ck what you heard, i’m that n-gga you shoulda read about
sh-lls through his living room window, i really egg his house
arsonal a loser, he just spellin’ the cause
don’t believe that bullsh-t that he sellin’ to y’all
pay close attention his name tellin’ it all
yeah he got an a-r, so? will he bust it?
nah, he a f-ckin’ fun boy and he devastatin’ to al(l)
i’m on a money route, my destination is ball
i took this battle in seconds, no preparation at all
he on his high horse ’cause he thinkin’ that his family royal
i’ll run through ya family royal
you a prince? well i’ll sn-tch ya princess
trigger f-ck her with twin tec’s
and the queen where they fly by next
they ricocheted and hit the king mama like delonte west
bar for bar he was out-matched, cookin’ this n-gga
when i finish him the outback
four words when i’m in beef, where his house at?
b00bies at his crib, i put a bomb where his couch at
shotgun reload, arsonal got his spouse clapped
everybody get it i’m sendin’ shots where the mouse at
war time and you in the front? i doubt that
all that super loud sh-t, rowdy rowdy wild sh-t
just lettin’ me know that you ain’t about that
this n-gga can’t see me mentally, physically or spiritually
not this c-ck sucker, literally
i’m a real n-gga, i really just wanna drop it
’cause i don’t feel comfortable talkin’ about the topic
but all that g-ngb-ngin’ you do, i saw that picture
you got some explainin’ to do
who’s the he-she? is it true?
was it photoshop? is it you?
the camera don’t lie, if you watch and see
that one round he did with dizaster
what you do? drop to his knees
i was nice at 14, back then i let them tec’s rattle
nowadays i let that tec rattle
f-ck judgin’, smack you better bring paramedics to my next battle
o-red, shotgun, tsu surf, arsonal, all lame
two words after this, ball game!
[round 3: arsonal]
yo breath hot and stinky, that’s a bad mix, you black b-tch
ya mouth smell like you just swallowed a big bag of -ss chips
ya tongue probably smell like a giant b-ss fish
whiting, tuna, tilapia and catfish
whoever booed will get beat and then stuck up
i’ll beat and then b-tt f-ck ya mother
then beat ya brothers the f-ck up
tough luck hitman, i squeeze until the clip jam
you’ll have better luck next year every year like a knicks fan
after the steal p-ss the rock to ya big man
so i can k!ll him, the scarecrow and the tin man
i show gerald the dirt, grab metal then squirt
st. louis y’all move regular work
y’all ’bout to witness little gerald get murked
hitman gon’ follow in the same footsteps as gerald lavert
you’ll be another dead n-gga missin’
ill lookin’ at you like “do it baby you got it”
go ahead holla give him kiss
i’ll back hand him twice then give him fist
three rounds of death, nah f-ck it, probably give him six
i don’t play, i cop blam blam
i love to watch ya baby mother pop that pretty p-ssy on a hand stand
how much you wanna bet everybody in jersey
that really like the nets will beat the sh-t out of the rams fans
i put the house on him, know that that house haunted
when he battled in halloween this n-gga mother had her mouth on it
that trick treated at her own f-ckin’ house warmin’
ya father walked out and on his back he had ya couch on it
now how i thought of that i see things clear
think before you act, how many lost to me this year?
i pay a random b-tch to leave this queer to the woods
then give that b-tch a new objective, steve mcnair
you need to stick to basketball ’cause once you get the yappin’ off
i get the trap involved and dead n-ggas cannot rap at all
you coochie, you just actin’ hard, f-ckin’ bl–dy p-ssies
runnin’ red lights, n-gga directin’ traffic wrong
lights camera action, n-gga we on, what type of sh-t he on
let me let y’all in on a secret, he ain’t the shooter
he the shooting guard, he get his three on
old booty -ss n-gga he brick and don’t get his d on
ya brother is a peon and ya mother’s name is leon
i unlock this n-gga life i got my top of the key on
then i pop this n-gga wife in my block in a neon
superman that ho, i did the dougie then a deon
that mean i touched her with my d-ck
she touched back, got her meat on
without the in zone i’m strong enough to bend chrome
my saliva stronger to ya face will break ya chin bone
ya b-tch blacker than me with that dark -ss skin tone
blacker the berry sweeter the juice, no sprint phone
i don’t fear you, the east don’t hear you
i’m so far ahead you i can’t spot you in my rearview
my shank slide down you like ya tears do, tear you
put the second knife in you to skin you and then i wear you
i’m holla now! i clap and make ya black blacka
you don’t wanna smash knuckles
i amputate yo leg to beat yo face with yo calf muscles
you done let that gr-ss bluff you
talkin’ ’bout you better than biggie
you ain’t better than diggy, ask russell
i sh-t, take a dookie on him, reach pull the toolies on him
since i moved to new orleans i’ma lean and get groovy on him
beat the men behind him, get six bodies, lil boosie on ’em
hurricane or wayne, i get my lil’ tunechi on him
i pick your girl up, i’ma drop her on my f-ckin’ bed
lift my d-ck up and let it drop on her f-ckin’ head
punch her in the -ss ’til her booty cheek is f-ckin’ red
then make that b-tch wash and retwist every motherf-ckin’ dread
Random Lyrics
- the weathermen - same as it never was lyrics
- ben sidran - about love lyrics
- le soldat pony - rainbow mother earth lyrics
- bacani - controle lyrics
- fuse - antenna lyrics
- dougie dl - tragedy lyrics
- kolmas nainen - hevonpaskankuningas lyrics
- well$ - lessons lyrics
- krowns - fake it lyrics
- chrissii key - presence lyrics