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urltv - k-shine vs. geechi gotti lyrics

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[round 1: geechi gotti]
n-gga you’se a b-tch!
and i’m here to prove that in front of all that vouch you
get loud in here tonight, and i’ma smack the volume out you
n-gga get tough and i’ma show ’em you a pup clown
stand over the body, just like your jewelry, i gotta bust down
n-gga touch down, that’s what we holla when the pack land
gauge wit’ me, i’ma let the 12 gun this n-gga down
(for what?)
cause he a black man
he get the back hand
knife open him up, he gon’ need closure
loud buck, so you can hear the “cut” like the scene over
i done battled the top pen, when n-ggas swore it was danger
then i put jc back in the box since he was born in a manger
n-gga tech-9 got 30’d, suge got a heart check
i went to war with top and nitty, two n-ggas you ain’t even fought yet
i had tougher compet-tion, if we talkin’ ’bout matches against ward
aye i (a.i.) didn’t show up but, what we talkin’ ’bout? practice?
this n-gga’s an actress
and he ain’t never faced this kind of pressure
i don’t even think shine real he need a diamond tester
iron stretcher, dawg gon’ find k laid out with his forehead open
coroner showed up, we like, “what y’all waitin’ on? y’all already know k’s slogan.”
you know i’m locin’
i’ll chuck a “c” in his face, open his mug, now we can see in his face
he a disgrace
tryin’ to convince y’all that he’s not soft
get his block knocked off
show me your flag if you want, you gettin’ shot dawg
i’ll leave you and your rag wet up, now it’s a wash cloth
i’ll watch dawg, 50 shots, extended glocks, that’s how a boss get down
the dot’s found all the sh-lls still in his body like, “d-mn. i guess he never really lost a round.”
i’ll toss the pound
it’s a throwaway pistol, you just had a battle with jae?
i’ll make you battle the blade
you can’t f-ck wit’ me, get cut swiftly
think bankrupt how he went from millz (mills) to a buck 50
this punk silly
the a.r. will have that look on his face torn off
next time he chuck up the x, you’ll be in the casket with your arms crossed
this a body, after this, n-ggas won’t hear from him
that black (blac) bag you gettin’ ain’t champion of the year money
listen here dummy
all that clique sh-t in battle rap
i ain’t feelin’ it cuz (cause)
you n-ggas was fightin’ over twork like it was only one b-tch in the club
i’m grippin’ the snub, finna terrorize you
two shot, get one sent in his mouth, he tryin’ to p-ss the breathalyzer
“another six foot-” oh them the bars y’all was waitin’ on?
baow! lower his casket so he can be six foot like the n-ggas you be hatin’ on
that’s on the set
do you n-ggas believe in a parallel- man word to danny, i do n-gga the .9 spittin’ it’s crazy
he died at night but his fam’ still in mourning (morning) like it’s a time difference
my mind different, every battle this n-gga almost rumble
and that’s why y’all think cuz wit’ the sh-t?
he be ballin’ up his fist and bitin’ at his lip
every battle he attempt to fight, at 16 i was fightin’ an attempt
n-gga true story, can’t tell me how i ain’t gon’ shoot
detectives question me ’bout murder (murda)
i said, “b-tch i don’t know mook.”
bro you, gon’ have to realize tonight just ain’t yo’ night
you finna have to bite this l the same way you was bitin’ [?]
this n-gga shine said, “oh y’all got me f-cked up. thinkin’ i was all bark but no bite.”
baow! let’s see you attempt to fight for yo’ life
n-gga chopper in my hands
my k vs this k, let’s see who’s rounds hit harder
n-gga i’m a clip sparker, had the knife in the cut
i could’ve stabbed him, instead i let the .40 care of this little b-tch, it’s a sugar daddy
the .9 extended, it’s long as a musket
just sayin’ this b-tch came wit’ a d-ck like them trannies you f-cked wit’
you’se a fruit cake, takin’ pictures with duck lip
the reason why the sh-t on your lip ain’t healed cause you prolly-
man pause
yeah press play on this f-ggot
i’m sprayin’ the ratchet, he try to run and i’ma hit back like, i can’t hear what you sayin’ it’s static
and i ain’t just rappin’, n-gga this me everyday
i ain’t actin’ cuz
crime was payin’ me, way before smack and them was
street n-gga, came up robbin’ packs from plugs
yeah i appreciate this good sh-t this rap sh-t does
but think twork, i can always go back to jackin’ drugs (jakk and drugz)
and when it’s real-

[round 1: k-shine]
i said yo!
arm up on the champ like rocky hit the old steps
if i don’t win, i wet champion and the winner (in the winter) ’til they get cold sweats
go check, you had ny rockin’ witchu, and the whole west
n-gga had the gas on both sides like a road test
you heard “k-shine ain’t lose a round”, you were so stressed
he even started helpin’ millz prep like a coat check
the nerve of you
“i can’t let you get this cuz, that’s on the whole set.”
n-gga i wasn’t tryin’ to take your turn, you get to go next
you heard three rounds of millz and told that n-gga he was ready
n-gga you’se a b-tch!
ruger clip, if i sneak a cat on his back like puma kicks
you would get band aids and half a mask like the lunatics
do some sh-t
block drills, they yellin’ out, “move the kids!”
i even nick a teen (nicotine) in the hand, let’s see who can (hookah) stick
enough of that hookah sh-t, i got somethin’ special for you loc
i’m in the vapors now, i’m finna get all you smoked
“rest in peace to the cuz” will be all you post
feelin’ froggy then somethin’ l!ck and fly until all you croak
boy, i am ’bout to do your mother’s son bad
like always feedin’ the other one last
f and left back like he wasn’t on task
watch for anybody wit’ him, you see another gun blast
pound on the side of coffee mug like #1 dad
louie slugger, i go to bat for him like mom dukes
make him have a seat without the arms like a bar stool
for helpin’ millz, ridin’ wit’ n-ggas you don’t even know like a carpool
bird clappin’ off his roof alonzo with the piru’s
serial on the gun, i ain’t scratch it off, i just slide through
then push the label under gotti like ja rule
i’m over him, i let him fly down like the zipper stuck
watch this d-ckhead turn into a p-ssy, nip & tuck
knife, i could’ve punctured his lung
but the fifth is tucked, so it’s either your cover get blown or the jig is up
i’m in bompton, where gotti at?

[geechi]
ain’t no bompton

[k-shine]
i’m in bompton like, “where gotti at?”
shotty strapped, point between the grill like a pontiac
will he give everybody a wake (awake) like insomniacs?
well that depend on the pill (peel); hypochondriac
strap under his chin, point at the top, like a party hat
his girl like, “stop, don’t y’all start with that.”
shut up, caught him (quarter) with the machine like a laundry mat
hollow’s into drake, like a mike zombie track
give him five rounds from 80, party arty back
boy this ’bout to be crazier than stealin’ from a n-gga, then ask for a solid
i’m talkin’ crazy like, the doctor see the wounds and they ask for deposits
i’m talkin’ crazy like, the hole wide enough, i can hide the strap in his noggin’
makin’ sure his roof is past the (pastor) [?], ‘trapped in the closet’
i had to gossip with the knife, it’s been a minute since we chopped it up
but me and the ruger clip, both drop outs, school was not for us
three strikes movement, get robbed in an alley with a chopper up
f-ck ya lil’ c’s (lil’ cease), i’ll shoot ya seed if ya junior mafia
my crew’s squadin’ up
[?] wit’ a inf’, leavin’ y’all wit’ a stench
i don’t care if you rep three, 6, mafia, out there mobbin’ wit’ ya crips
they all get credit for this hit
you know it’s ‘hard out here for a pimp’
lay it down before i raise a pound like a hi-5
twins and a pair will shoot (parachute) like a skydive
i’m in your neighborhood wit’ a semi, this a drive-by
what up crippy? i get to clockin’ 60’s like grindtime
headshot, that’ll put your pupils on the blindside
stomach in knots, that’s the definition of some mob ties
pupils? stomach? y’all owin’
but y’all ain’t lookin’ through the guidelines
this the mafia i’m settin’ up an organized (organ eyes) crime
n-gga kiss yo’ -ss goodbye
pucker up, 12 inch clip, i put a foot down, enough’s enough
you ain’t even see me runnin’ up
snuck him like a sucker punch
big nose on an arm swingin’ do the humpty hump
that’s a two shot, 2pac, get ya crew shot
oowop, lift him up
nwx, rest of you n-ggas suck
1-0 n-gga, zip him up!

[round 2: geechi gotti]
shut all that bullsh-t up. all y’all f-cked up for even g-ssin’ that sh-t right there man. n-gga rappin’ some real elementary sh-t

but look, i’m champion of the year let me tell you why
cause if i get the money i’ma go right back to the hood with my peeps and sh-t
if he win the money these n-ggas all helped him write it so they gotta split it two grands a piece and sh-t
yeah, so don’t y’all wanna cheer for that
n-gga i’ll sleep this b-tch
you see the blood leakin’ out him?
the doc’s runnin’ out of time, i’m lookin’ at him
but all i think is lookin’ at one of his battles cause i just see dna comin’ out of shine
what you n-ggas right together?
y’all be sittin’ on the couch sharin’ ideas like it’s therapy
judgin’ off his last battle, my partner said, “that couldn’t be shine. cause that was eric b.”
there’s n-ggas scared of me
that sh-t you do be wack
i can’t even call it rap
you say simple sh-t, that if i said it, these f-ck boys wouldn’t even react
you be like, “i’ll get something stuck in his head. that’s a tumor
ratchet’s talkin’, he say/she say, that’s a rumor
two .5’s lift him to god; hallelujah.”
and you be standin’ there lookin’ stupid like, “that’s my junior.”
n-gga you’se a loser
today cuz dyin’
you went from the mobb to the x
n-ggas been tradin’ shine like a blood diamond
n-gga speakin’ of blood, n-gga where is you from?
y’all see how dude stutterin’ that’s cause he fake blood he food coloring
i’m a crip
disrespect that on my mama i’ma shoot you
i don’t wanna hear no blood call, keep it neutral
i ain’t sayin’ sh-t but baow!
i’d rather let the coroner soowoop you
you gon’ shoot who?
i got the heat that’ll bang at his friend
it ain’t a headshot cause i’m aimin’ at a brim
is this some gang sh-t? or some rap sh-t?
three shots will make a brim disappear
this a hat trick, i’m that sick
i’ll catch you wit’ ya b-tch and this sh-t serious
when she see blood in a box, it ain’t her period
catch you at your bm house and get poppin’
left lil’ blood leakin’ in her pad, the b-tch spottin’
b-tch stop it
yo’ gang bangin’ ain’t like mine
stop comparin’ it
my hood got history, all that og beef, i inherited it
think surrogates, even though it ain’t mines, i’ma carry it
i ain’t hearin’ it
n-ggas wanna talk all this gang sh-t when they don’t even know the culture
these n-ggas only bangin’ on pics like a jordan poster
f-ck a holster
straps fully auto with the silencer
you can get k!lled for mistakin’ the sound like white people sayin’ “monica”
i’m tired of cuz
talkin’ tough, ’til i show up with the clips and let it spray through
i could’ve just slapped shine but for all that spice, i’m smokin’ k too (k2)
i used to sell dope by a staircase
then i start jackin’
n-ggas thought it was t-top, i used to rob ’em with bare (bear) face
n-gga face the facts, you from a well known snitch city and you proud of that
n-ggas from yo’ city, as long as they got money, they can tell
and y’all will honor that
snitch -ss harlem n-ggas, if alpo and nicky was from my hood, we’d have shot them boys
i guess y’all code word was that chuck e. cheese
(what the f-ck that mean?)
as long as that n-gga can be a rat, as long as they got some coins
but look i would’ve shot-
yeah, it’s okay to be a rat as long as they got some coins
i would’ve shot them boys
i got a bald head for the bald head n-gga in ya clique
watch the bullets smash his brain
will he survive? i don’t know?
doctor soundin’ like a weather man, they predict a low chance for rain
cuz is gon’ get you shot, n-gga don’t be stupid
if this ya lil’ homie, you better tell him to stand there and rap
don’t get emotional when he know he losin’
if he do, i’m gonna -ssume that you told cuz, do it on my power sh-t
rain’ll (raina’ll) get k!lled from how the bro was movin’
oh it’s boomin’
i’ll have an eagle in ya face cause i ain’t into surprises
got him starin’ at the desert so long he think he seein’ mirages
you’se a f-g, type that need to be in the closet
i heard about y’all 2 on 2’s, shine always get the back end, he let dna keep the deposits
it’s 2018, yeah n-gga, who you beatin’ with them ’88 lines
ak, the chopper made me hate .9’s
this b-tch will get dumped over dna like i found out the baby ain’t mines
this a hate crime
talkin’ ’bout you gon’ give me $9,000
that was somethin’ son tried to tease me ’bout
but you shot a video called ‘new crib’ at beasley house
who needs the clout?
talkin’ ’bout you only use the kitchen
that’s cause when you spend the night, he got you doin’ the dishes
you n-ggas b-tchin’
they bathed you and burped you
give you allowances, prolly gave you a curfew
these n-ggas birthed you
you they baby k, thought you was they k!ller then realized you gettin’ k!lled, oh you crazy k
the .80 spray
dead slippin’ from the gun where the hit is
backslide like, “d-mn, i thought you was done with this sh-t.”
and when it’s real, y’all can tell, y’all can see it in they eyes
it’s yo’ turn, see if you can make n-ggas believe them d-mn lies

[round 2: k-shine]
these all facts!
machete in his throat
take out the lil’ knife, don’t let the short stay like a telly wit’ a hoe
oh you think it’s a game?
’til i’m on the celly wit’ the bro
in bay area, ready to make a hit with e-40 ‘tell me when to go’
knock it over, or every hour on the hour, they’ll be changin’ all your cotton b-lls
checkin’ on your respirators, makin’ sure your socks is on
hospital bed, jacked up in the air like they dropped the call
i’m in the other window, tommy on the stairs like i drawers
blaaat!
that sh-t makin’ gang statements
but you bl–dy when i blew (blue), n-gga we finna trade places
more to actually clap
caught a rapper from smack, shea davis
the code: askin’ for work
(what that mean?)
he ain’t make it
they playin’, like they don’t see me on my grind
jayblac like easy, we don’t want you speedin’ through your rounds
what’s all the f-ckin’ hype about
n-gga this is geechi versus shine
he like, “we need you on the ten.”
“why? when i can beat him with a .9”
eagle on my side, waitin’ for the good flop
mask and goggles, like i’m on my woodshop
mardi gras, they t-tties show when i’m takin’ off tops
i spill the beans outta anybody reppin’ neighborhood, watch
think i’m not
put the mop back in the closet, i did the ch0r-s
nah, turn into that old k-shine, give ’em more
headshot, he ran off the collar, get ya dawg
it’s finna pour
i keep pushin’ the b-tton, i missed the floor
i let your son see you gettin’ rocked, miss your core
they took a half moon by the star; singapore
i make ’em sure
this mark is here (hair) twisted, he immature
bay (bae) get the texts (tecs) every five minutes, i’m insecure
let me catch you in your g ride tryin’ to spin past
quick flash
point in cracker grill; riff raff
g-g-g-g-g-unit! on a diss track
cause all it takes is one .50 to push gotti whole sh-t back
he get the uppercut to the gut and a quick jab
he gettin’ two different type of socks, this a mismatch
tell the homie sit back
i took his strap, i took his knife, i took his gat
i took his nina, i took his mac
now everything’s on me, i’m givin’ back
this the smack, bro you thought you was…tryin’ to show you buddy love
so you can get somebody reppin’ nutty, professor
tool in the sweater, i’m ’bout drop cuz
the choppers out like the grandma in the hot tub
glock, snub or the semi with the drum out
denise on her first date, this sh-t will take a clump (klump) out
professor squeezin’ in the whip like the potion finna run out
n-gga it’s been days when i did drills and i wasn’t hittin’ nothin’
when you a shooter, you can tell the off day, the first time you feel a b-tton
there’s been times i aim for a noggin’, and heard i pushed a n-gga gut in
like, “how i do that? f-ck it
he can think on an empty stomach.”
i double back, put down the strap, got to cuttin’
mid sentence, he caught a part in (pardon) the interruption (inner-ruption)
i done did n-ggas superbad, i’m talkin’ id’s for organs; mclovin
first newport of the day, the cig’ (sig’) bustin’
it’s a reason, i keep it on the low, a n-gga creepin’
but soon as they holler they spirits
christmas evening
double barrel, sing like a carol, ’tis the season
compressor, i let it whisper in ya ear
gotti can you keep a secret
i love my new gun connect
he convenient
he send a text (tecs) under the table, i’m in a meeting
headshot, i put his eyeb-lls by the t–th then
he be a vegetable, oh watch what you eatin’, that n-gga vegan
n-gga, we can put the guns down
forget the squeezin’
believe it, we can shake on it, i’m in agreement
he gettin’ f-cked up as soon as they (day) off, this the weekend
my crew on the first, proof in the work, this will crack a n-gga cheek in
n-gga- kiss- you know what?
go ahead man. go ‘head man

[round 3: geechi gotti]
this sh-t f-cked up man
but i can see it now it’s all clearer
most these n-ggas don’t wanna lift you up, ’til the forced to be your pallbearer
did y’all hear him?
actin’ like his crew do homi’s?
then how come my n-ggas trapped in the system like the new jumanji?
my patna had a baby, he said his daughter changed his life full throttle
first words she learned, was how to ask for a bottle
that n-gga dead now
man, when the good die, those be the worst ones
the last words he heard was “bah bah”, sounds just like his daughter’s first ones
i’m one of the realest n-ggas in this sh-t!
i demand that stripe
my patna got an l then they charged him with another body, yeah i said that right
cuz ain’t never comin’ home, but somehow he got a second chance at life
you understand my gripes?
so much anger inside, it’s hard for me to smile
i never had a job all i did was rob the
closest i came to a brief case was a speedy trial
these streets is wild
that’s somethin’ i gotta teach my child
you know the reason why they hate us
i’m from a hood where the wrong word will get your face stuck in school
teacher looked at me said, “i don’t see nothin’ special.”
that’s cause i had the .38 tucked
you a fake f-ck
claimin’ my lifestyle, man this sh-t unusual
realized i was married to the street life cause every time i walked down a aisle, it was a funeral
this sh-t unusual
i know fiends who be smokin’ until they lungs sore
i’m in the spot like this can’t be life, i know it’s much more
junky steady knockin’ on the front door
n-gga, i done seen four heads on the same rock like mt. rushmore
n-gga what’s war? when ever since a kid i’ve been duckin’ shots
the first rule was, “don’t run, n-gga get down.”
man i was six the first time i realized you ain’t gotta spar just to hear a round
this clear now
my patna just lost in trial, i seen his mom, she had tears in her eyes
that pain really cost her smile
she said, “gotti you will never understand until you lost a child.”
she spent all her money buyin’ him a lawyer, judge still gave him an l
bet she wished she would’ve bought him a vowel
n-gga i was lost, but now i’m found
now i keep the money bag (moneybagg) wit’ me like i’m yo gotti
i still shoot a n-gga after he dead, cause i don’t trust n0body (no body)
you n-ggas hear me rap, y’all don’t really know gotti
can’t talk no gang sh-t to me, homie you ain’t did enough
the feds, hit [?] wit’ the oowhop when they hit him up
you can see the staples under his shirt, that’s if he lift it up
i’m just tellin’ you, you them n-ggas had to literally zip him up
n-gga what?!
we rep the game until our last breath is gone
we even put the hood on the tool, that’s our definition of set in (and) stone
the weapon drawn
out the window and i hawk him down
if the pigs find any sh-ll in this whip
cuz i would’ve wish i would’ve lost them rounds
my patna was 15 when he took his time
he just made a mistake
i said, “lil dawg, use your time to change your life and sharpen your tool.”
that lil’ n-gga made him a shank
he ain’t never even been out wit’ a b-tch, we wasn’t trippin’
least the judge gave him a date
n-gga what you gon’ say?
i lost to a. ward?
ain’t no real n-ggas believe nothin’ that fraud say
cause he believe god the only n-gga with the power to give life
tell him to explain how come that judge keep givin’ my n-ggas all day
and y’all g-y
cause all of a sudden he a gang banger and y’all believe him
check his old battles, we didn’t see none of that blood sh-t comin’ out
he must’ve been internally bleedin’
don’t give me a reason, these n-ggas wanna be me
i’m from the streets g
on a mission the first rule we learned was to leave the phone home like e.t
man, these n-ggas couldn’t beat me
but anyway man, you know it is man, mafia
man, and when it’s real, y’all can tell, y’all can see it in they eyes
yo turn, see if you can make n-ggas believe them lies
n-gga time

[round 3: k-shine]
man, this n-gga said he got shot by accident at a party
then the very next week he said he took his p-ssy -ss back to the party
if a n-gga would’ve shot me by accident at a party
the news reporter would’ve been like, “there’s entirely too many accidents at this party.”
n-ggas would’ve been bouncin’ wit’ the bounces
runnin’ like a relay
breakin’ with the dancers, i would’ve been cuttin’ like the dj
n-ggas in the section like, “he f-ckin’ up my b-day!”
beans on the record like an album dropped with freeway
only way i would’ve went back to the party bay
is to shoot a buster (busta) in the club like ‘p-ss the courvoisier’
but everyday you out here puttin’ sh-lls in your clip
lookin’ at all these hammer crimes with your guys
but they the only ones gettin’ nailed for the sh-t?
this why i know you lyin’, and anything you sellings a jip
murder in every story, i’m sick and tired of it all these tales from the crypt (crip)
n-gga, gangstas move in silence, and you wildin’
talkin’ ’bout other n-ggas life and then glorify it
the sh-t i do be so crazy…i gotta do the same exact thing to any n-gga that talk about it
what we talkin’ ’bout then?
n-gga i been real since birth
{pew, bow, blat blat} gun gestures with everything in the playpen
at 16 i had my first crack charge
by 17 i was caged in, 20 large off of hard
mama ain’t approve, wouldn’t even let me pay rent
they offered me a nickle off some dimes and some dimes for the nickle
i said, “this sh-t don’t make sense (cents).”
n-gga i stuck with battle rap for my kids
so before i let the .8 spin i think, “if i raise this gun who gon’ raise them?”
for that, i been k!ll y’all n-ggas all year
my second half, smack gotta pay 10
so gotti can’t talk none of that mafia sh-t to made men
now here’s the contradiction
for one grand, the gun baow that’s a drumline
one band, one sound
he in the hospital, one dead, one down
kickin’ with the deuce, lui kang, kung lao
n-gga cool down or lay down here (hair) nu nellz
rush hours (ours), push the godd-mn b-tton; juntao
i’m talkin’ every little bullet loaded in the tool now
if you don’t like the rules under this roof then move out
i could give a hoot ’bout, ya mob still crippin’
i’ll have red flags wherever your compton menace
push the wrong bus like comp in menace
get it through your thick skull until you comprehensive
revolver spinin’
nah, this time i whip him
he get a b-tt out the situation, mind ya business
i palm the biscuit, heat seeking until i find a victim
and take the sensors off, this non explicit
this kinda distance, will turn an h3 to a honda civic
the fact of the matter was gettin’ at him; quantum physics
he caught the low cuts and the air bubble; lebron olympics
then rain there (reindeer) in the ear; donner/blitzen
my mind is twisted, light bulb in the ceilin’, i’m screwed up
ya jewels plus, i get to bookin’ (book in) slime; goosebumps
tool tuck, arm extended like “move up”
comin’ to k!ll, one in the mil’ like true love
n-gga that’s a juice shot, 2pac, hit ’em up
get ya crew shot wit’ an oowop, pick him up
nwx, the rest of these n-ggas suck
and the champion is here n-gga, zip ’em up!



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