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urltv - geechi gotti vs. nu jerzey twork lyrics

[round 1: geechi gotti]
we got geechi gotti versus….
n#gga you pull a gun out on me and don’t use it i’ma k!ll you n#gga
straight like that
i’m still p#ssed off n#ggas seen me movin’ out the way like that
but see you did it for clout
i gave n#ggas the benefit of the doubt
cause in them situations, you was supposed to clear that b#tch out
but then…when your car got shot up
you my n#gga so i said, “f#ck whoever done that.”
but then i started thinkin’ like, “where was that gun at?
why you ain’t let none clap?”
see n#ggas ain’t scared to let it go on you and that’s dumb facts
cause shootin’ at you is like battle rap for these industry dudes
it’s no fire come back
n#gga i run rap
it’s time to keep it g with these punks
they say this a match for the top spot, i don’t see it as such
i’m the back to back champ, he ain’t even in the top three we discuss
but lettin’ you live this long was my mistake
so after this, sh#t gonna get a lot clearer
y’all ain’t even catch that
i said “my mistake” that meant this my era (error)
i done battled the best shine, jc
sh#t, even me and nitty had to bang
i’m talkin’ arsonal, o#red, even laid down the wave
i’m talkin’ john john, ill will, had ms. fit fallin’ on the stage
big t, chess, ave, tay roc with the change
during the strike i put top down screamin’ ‘money ain’t a thang’
i made this sh#t crack again
i’m the reason n#ggas wanted to start livin’ they bars
but they keep givin’ you my credit
that’s why i’m the n#gga with a chip on this card
i will grab a blade and chop ya family up
ya girl, ya mama, then he go after
grab ya little new born then i saw the baby (dababy) like the detroit rapper
i’m a real life factor
i ain’t just speakin’ bars
face shot, hole in (holdin’) his chin like he thinkin’ hard
the king of bars, plus in these streets i’m active
shoot ’til it cl!ck when a n#gga blast it
b#tch my sig’ (cig’) been smokin’ so long i could’ve ashed it
tragic
y’all n#ggas remember when i said i had the gun like this?
both hands double dribblin’
crazy sh#t
but now i got one on the handle and one right up under the nose when i’m blazin’ it
with that heat i’m d. wade
steady questionin’ myself on how i raised the b#tch
crazy sh#t
raise the fifth, spray 30, i play dirty
funeral, ya home, go and turn twork to an away jersey
he ain’t worthy
f#ck the lames, mafia, i put my own team on jersey, it’s custom made
it ain’t a f#ckin’ game
y’all put him against a dome splitter
chrome lifter
junior’s bachelor party
y’all done put twerk (twork) in front of the wrong n#gga
30 stick, long clipper
get hit when i blast it
twork (twerk) fall from the pole like the stripper in dallas
since i’ve been spazzin’, i make mo’ than what the vets make
back shot, spine on the flo’
it drop before the disc came out like cassette tapes
grab him by the throat, his neck break
he died with his eyes wide like rex on that s#x tape
this n#gga stay recyclin’ bars, and y’all be cool with that
that’s why when they ask me ’bout this battle i was doubtin’ if bro worthy
show up with any of that old jazz, it’s gon’ feel like a mountain on jersey (jerzey)
’bout to do him dirty with non effort
i can drop 30 even if i slack with jersey (jerzey) like tom sheppard
above the rim
don’t make me flip you, they done put the crip on you
against ‘tez, y’all seen me put sh#lls in they ese
now i’m finna get you damaged, i shoot cannon
over the body with the sweeper standin’ up, it ain’t the broom challenge
y’all think dude savage?
but his hands too shaky to handle the glock, that’s the difference
i leave n#ggas shakin’ like that after the shot
aye, you beat up norbes?
i really don’t care
i’m just tryin’ to figure out what that mean to a n#gga that really clap things
shoot him, his body shut down
blood stream f#cked up worser than caffeine
and when it’s real…y’all can tell
(y’all can see it they in they eyes
it’s yo’ turn make n#ggas believe them lies
n#gga, time)

[round 1: nu jerzey twork]
n#gga you’se a b#tch!
he know
i was just out in bompton on my piruthless sh#t
let him try angles
catch a bullet, use a pick
ruger clip
nah, i can give a f#ck what you heard ’bout
i’m so excited, he finally dies
one shot i’ma squeeze a bird out
baow!
he got got’
god got got’, i can’t even get the words out
tool ’bout to shoot
chrome ’bout to spark
chrome ’bout to shoot
{fake chokes}
nah f#ck that, that’s something the old twork would do
this weighin’ heavy on my heart
you tryin’ to call up the crips? cl!ck
this beretta dumpin’ off
boom, let him live
i’ma drag his body very f#ckin’ far
i’m talkin’ so deep in the woods he can never f#ckin’ call
can you hear me now?
n#gga you gon’ need every f#ckin’ bar
believability?
y’all saw the video, bro was hidin’
i was the n#gga holdin’ iron
him? facin’ a tree like pocahontas
i should’ve clapped yo’ ass then, that was god blessin’ you
shoot every page you was hidin’ behind, there wouldn’t have been a log left
left the whole tree danglin’ down, that’s a car freshener
it ain’t the fact that you hid behind a tree
it’s just the fact i saw you leave brooklyn hanz, i can attest to it
too many unanswered questions
n#gga tried to justify the sh#t, the fans were stressin’ him
you think you right cause you left hanz (hands)? that’s ambidextrous
heat about to fly
i shook his pride
you know it’s real when you see it in they eyes
not when they look alive
i’m strapped in!
i’ll clap you in a coma
madness, i could snap at any moment
my name twork, i ain’t twork n#gga, i’m already earnin’ my status
errrr, i’ma drive down nutty blocc burnin’ the ratchets
k!ll ’em all
closed casket?
[?] b#tch we burnin’ the casket
i need to know if it’s nuts in it, i got allergic reaction
aye avo’, i’m ’bout to murder this f#ggot
i should put it in avo’s face, avocado’s face
cause you the only person [?]
but i’ma pick this n#gga first, that’s affirmative action
get stabbed up for your champion of the year belt
i’ll [?]
pull it out, poke an extra hole in the belt, make it my size
he claimin’ mob ties
but you be lucky if you manage out the east
.45’s, look like a .9, that’s an apostrophe
try wit’ me
i get mad over the slightest thing, can’t hash it out wit’ me
literally, trip for next to nothin’; travelocity
ratchet pop on him
you run your mouth, i k!ll ya first lady
this launch heavy f#cker
[?] lit, stick on coffee; r. kelly mother
let that resonate
serial, still on the revolver, i let the weapon spray
spin, with no scratch, let’s set the record straight
geechi, i can give a f#ck about your deceased folks
they memories left they graves
why the f#ck you let ya dead homie mother, keep leavin’ voicemail knowin’ her son ain’t gonna hear what the message say?
next time she try to call that n#gga, i let berettas blaze
baow!
scream on the voicemail, “you got seven days!”
larkin peel, you all get k!lled
i’ll leave this nutty n#gga missin’
missin’, missin’, i’m talkin’ lost for real
i’m talkin’ nut’ on the carton, that’s almond milk
y’all n#ggas homeless still
i done kicked it with a lot of these n#ggas, n0body seems violent
ch#ch ch#ch, my shotty bring [?]
who wanna die?
shhh y’all gotta keep quiet
boom, this gonna be a n#gga n0body seen die
leave him
drop the body, no leave the body, that’s the jolly green giant
jersey

[round 2: geechi gotti]
i can do what you do, that style is sickenin’
all you do is word association with vocal projection, it isn’t gifted
the crowd know to cheer the moment you yell the bar, it’s like the sh#t is scripted
he be like, “i should be on the big screen with the sh#t i’m liftin’
through the scope i can see ya plasma…cause i got tele#vision”
but i’m not the n#gga to fool wit’
he prolly own a fertilizer company cause he keep sellin’ y’all this bullsh#t
trunk bars, i shouldn’t never hear
but that don’t take away the sh#t i did on my block
n#ggas i done got k!lled by my glock
the truth is, real n#ggas get out the way
cause when bustas got guns, somebody innocent gets shot
with a name like twork, you should be workin’ at magic city shakin’ ass and titties
puttin’ ya tip money in one of them old ladies who you be sn#tchin’ purse
you make ya state look bad my n#gga and that’s on the turf
cause when i think of jersey, that’s arsonal and surf puttin’ in work
joe budden, redman, tretch, with the bars they be goin’ berserk
it wasn’t until i met this n#gga, that i found out that n#ggas in new jersey twerk (nu jerzey twork)
now smack, how come you don’t say “pause” before you announce this n#gga name?
twork! twork!
and i’m surprised all these grown men be happy when they see his ass bouncin’ on the stage
this n#gga’s a lame
but let me know
how did ya homies feel when you got that piercin’?
what type of gangsta do those things?
see i got high rankin’ from the big homies the first time i let my nose ring
but let me tell you a few mo’ things
what’s up with ryda, drugz? that lu cas’ n#gga?
don’t y’all get tired seein’ this fake g string along all these ass n#ggas?
goonies? where? all i see is a bunch of victims
them dudes ain’t hard
now that jakk, q and ace left
n#ggas ain’t gonna have no problems pullin’ they card
and these n#ggas ain’t stars, that’s why they gotta work
but all try to sound like you, that’s what make it kinda worse
but i get it
in order for them wack b#tches to get attention they gotta twerk (twork)
the llama burst, like y’all don’t really want smoke dawg
k!ll you then dump the .40 over ya dead homies like loc dog
f#ck you and drugz, i’ll put a bullet in both y’all
in the hospital ya family watchin’ ya body go through a series of events, it ain’t snowfall
talkin’ ’bout, “he the reason geech’ was hidin’ behind a tree.”
is he illiterate?
the nerve of a n#gga that got f#cked up by senior citizen
who he kiddin’ when me and you both know he ain’t wanna fight
hoe n#gga, why don’t you tell the fans how you literally had to push drugz in that street like a dope dealer
n#gga he’s a b#tch!
and you, a jersey n#gga that live in the dmv, claimin’ a compton gang
what’s really good?
it’s safe to say on stage, the only time that he in his hood
he wanna be ‘pac so bad, i bet he wish he could
an east coast n#gga runnin’ with compton piru’s, takin’ orders from his n#gga suge
both of y’all got nose rings, both of y’all got k!lled in vegas
should i continue on?
i don’t think i should
mr. piru gang member
see you got the street# see you got these n#ggas confused, but the streets not
you can’t be a piru blood gang member unless you from the same hood as b. dot
see that’s the type of sh#t that make me hot
but after this, we gonna get this sh#t clear
because piru is a street in compton and you ain’t never even been there
the sh#t weird
and you know, yeah you was in compton but if i had you there
and told you to take me to piru street, you wouldn’t know where to go
see for that you a hoe
claimin’ a block and a street you never stood on
you don’t know how disrespectful that is to the real piru’s that had to put on
shoot sh#t, go to jail and die for that street
see all these years in church but it took geechi to get his soul right
ya mama a preacher, it makes sense
she had you believin’ in sh#t you haven’t seen ya whole life
but in real compton and bompton, piru’s that don’t make it fair
you got a n#gga named driver in the goonies, couldn’t he even take you there?
but see, aye, i know some real piru’s they like, “twork cool. but gotti you gotta cook dawg.”
for real you look soft
i could have 135 piru’s give you a [?]
i’m the reason yo’ career took off
cause i brought this gangsta sh#t back to battle rap and i can bang that
now everybody flaggin’, y’all didn’t even doo rag
that’s why they called me to bring the wave back
champion of the year, can’t none of these n#ggas claim that
to beat me, you gon’ need a bigga .9 than robin williams when he played jack
brotherhood? i’m from that other hood
crip street, big heat
.4 close (foreclose) ya sh#t like when the crib lease
i’ll shoot ya pregnant b#tch
y’all gon’ think her water broke the way the b#tch leak
her baby measurements gon’ be 7 ounces and six feet
16 in the clip, close range when i’m shootin’ him
on jesus i’ll let about 12 roam (rome) in jerusalem
i’m through wit’ him
i could have my sis’ spark it at you
bury you live on caffeine and have coffee plant you
i get at you
give a f#ck if you witcha guys
the gun’ll blaze ya
you get laid down and i pop back up like the undertaker
n#gga
you a dead man, i’ma be runnin’ this battle rap sh#t ’til my last day
sayin’ you can beat me? you cappin’ jerzey (cap in jersey) like draft day
drum on the k, b#tch i ain’t stutterin’
clip took so long to load look like i’m bufferin’
enough wit’ him
i’m not ya mans
gun on me, it’s not contraband
100 buck, then it’s twerk (twork) in the upper room like a private dance
cause when it’s real y’all can see tell
(y’all can see it in they eyes
it’s yo’ turn, see you can make n#ggas believe them lies
n#gga time)

[round 2: nu jerzey twork]
this n#gga said, my moms was a pastor, that’s a fact
talkin’ ’bout me havin’ guns or bein’ a blood
but my mom bein’ a pastor i guess y’all thinkin’, “boy just a scandal.”
but i talked to my mom about that the other day
she said when she preach she keep a .40 by the panel
i said, “word?!”
i don’t think jesus gon’ be mad at me
you run up on me i’ma plant you
cause god taught me he’ll never give me more than i can handle
speakin’ of my mom, y’all gotta check her out
i done seen her pray over the rich or poor
i done seen her lay hands on the handicap and watch ’em hit the floor
and i’m just like her, i can put my hands on you, you won’t be crip no more!
crazy
geechi gotti!
you put on a couple pounds?
oooh
i was on your ig the other day, saw you workin’ out
i’m impressed as f#ck
see, you gettin’ ya reps up bruh
flexin’ huh?
workin’ on ya pecs and stuff
this n#gga gonna go and gain all this muscle just for my tecs to dump
i don’t give a f#ck what you bench, just don’t press ya luck
you get 100 out the chamber
i don’t see anything about him dangerous
this piru, our city’s nutty blocc, grab a mop out and bang ya
boom
buncha hot sh#lls comin’ out the chamber
nina, a pliers to the nuts, that’s money mike and damon
tameless
this a glock, with 30 shots
k!ll rivals
baow, somehow it always land on ’em first; bill cycle
i do you real trifle
chrome it pop
pop
try to go near the tecs
yellow tape, homie drop
i get the message
i left him on scene with no response
the strap just hot
whatchu think, you the only n#gga that been to jail?
i been locked, with no pc; mac desktop
.38 come out the waist, the gat just pop
revolver, spin off the hip, that’s dak prescott
the gun is dumpin’, the rusty bird, the ugly duckling
gun b#tt, get lumped for nothin’
pistol whip, crack a ; uncle ruckus
jersey

[round 3: geechi gotti]

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