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urltv – tsu surf vs yung ill lyrics

[round 1: tsu surf]
first off marlon, your ain’t my mans n-gg-… how goodz say it?
they got me battling a skateboard vans n-gg-
tsunami surf through, the whole lou’ will get wet up
if iii really sick, them hollow tips like vicks, open that chest up
you that long hair pretty boy brother of chance type of real that b-tch with a lot of pubic hair in her pants type of ill, eeewww!
wouldn’t know what to do with a desert, you ain’t never got your heater on
and nelly song the only time you “get your eagle on”
in the mirror, boy shorts and a beater on
lip gloss popping, stanky legging to a trina song
you make yo -ss clap, i let make lead blam
boy i’ll put yo head in a box like webcam
his little sister in the chevy, just face when she neck me
no hands, in the hood we call her bluetooth becky
spit that comedian shit, tell me how you let your ‘matic blow
but how you handle this 100 round chopper he couldn’t handle a calicoe?
we mobb deep, get our ride on, they get they hide on
apple sweet, ill wouldn’t touch a iphone
everybody your homie and everybody your brother
i body them bodies n-body will be crying but your mother
dwayne wade, 3 from my heat, a drop 30
this mac all black, no joke it ain’t bernie
you a ray j fan and a aye verb lover
toughest n-gg- in midwest is aye verb mother
find out where he live, walking, simply get to sparking
them -ssumed he was really sick
cause everybody in that b-tch got the coffin/to coughing
if you a boss then send your team
and i’m a send back something to knock everything out of anything
your songs a never sell, your image will never blow up
i trip and put iii in a bag like throw up
no braces, make him bite that steel
they find him in the freezer, i’ll icepack iii
like a truck i breaker breaker with one nine, then **drum roll noise**
it sound like a drum line hit his front line….
easy

[round 1: yung iii]
i don’t know who endorsed you, got you feeling like you in now
see d-ck heads act hard when pussies let ’em in the in-crowd first it was goodz, ice, and arsonal after lux, mook and rex
then charlie clips joined the orgy, locking lips and b-mping chests
it seems you don’t gotta do a lot around hurr to get respect
but have one or two battles and they gon’ label you a vet
prime example; how tsunami surf this big ole’ threat?
when you had two battles in a basement!
i’ma put in my application to get d-ck rode next
see you a do-boy, a sideline second in command
to take orders and never spend a second in command
i collect and shuffle grams, i’m a boss i get paid for my investments in advance
metal detector, no weapon in my hands
walkie talkie, give directions to my clan
stomach shot, 10-4 that gun go pop in your mid section and your hands
for that b-tter i grab the toast and bang the wesson til it jam
surf gon’ get served this biscuit for his green eggs and ham
i f-ck with jersey, of course, they dig my flava flay
and i love new york, but you ain’t real brother
so you’ll never stand a chance, man
i’ll have your mother’s only son robbed i clock in, you clock out it’s a done job
my gun prob will put you square underwater, spongebob
so tell squidward, that’s sig’ burst or chainsaw take a chunk of his legs
hockey mask, michael myers, halloween fill his pumpkin with lead
shots pop at my target, then my n-gg-s will hop scotch on the caucus
a car battery, cause you don’t get buried you get jumped when you dead
he don’t get that thogh, b-tter my popcorn and kickback slow
give ’em a break, i ain’t bring no candy bars for this kit kat hoe
brought a fork and a steak knife for a full course meal
shit smack this a big snack, a knick knack, whoa
ronald mcdonald, let that big mac blow
too many squares in your circle i’ll put your whole circle in a square n-gg-, tic tac toe
whoa… it’s like a deck of cards when that drama start
cause you’ll get cut like spades for your diamonds coming out of the club
you ain’t got no heart
i’m a ace, f-ck a king, this jack-ss just a queen, fiend
if frat was jack black he’ll take a hit on 17
the 9 blam, get a flesh wound
cripple and let him lean, a blind man in a restroom
this some shit you never seen
that red beam will clear his team out shawty
that trigger spray, i don’t kid and play bloah!
sound like i’m calling martin lawrence from house party
and speaking of house party, no invitation, you gon’ see me
ready to, “kick some f-cking -ss!” in that house party
i’m pee wee

[round 2: tsu surf]
boy you’ll catch more shots than a spalding
they might’ve found nemo, but they’ll never find marlon
ever, never find marlon, hit him where he starving…
i got um
they only thing i believed in that last verse was “yo”
them rhymes bore me
called up my st. louis b-tch like “what’s the story?”
she said “with who? marlon bell?
he went to mcclaude north one of the sweetest schools in missouri”
not k!ller gorilla for realer iii
who c-ck back, dump it and hit um up with the steel, chill!
everybody wild monkeys until that banana clip peel
and the bars make me yawn, your punchlines is exhausting
i was feeling a little ill too
well i guess i found something for the coffin/coughing
you a 18 wheeler looking at a deer, aye boo-boo your looking at a bear
i will whoop this cushion, put him in a chair
or q-tip the little n-gg- and put in the air/ear
i tell verb to his face, yo your lil mans a mutt, but he know
cause he send him to the store for the dutch
he get back and can’t hit the blunt
you’s a runner, for a runner, sleeping bag the whole lou
i’ll turn that party to a slumber
paul wall this guy flashing his grill
and shout out to nasir jones when i put this ‘matic to iii
the chamber got one and the clips got 8 in
michael myers jumper with the mask off of jason lock pick his door *eerrnn!* stick my face in
the terminator role, knock the baby out the playpen
cause i am not a rapper, i am a slaughterer
find the b-tch who birth these foreigners and slaughter her
they find hitman holla mama in nevada and marlon’s (marlins) in florida
i flew to the lou’, what happen to your burner peeps and the murder heat?
white sand, clear water, this shit look like myrtle beach
if you ain’t got about 100 choppers, a shot from blanca
un kasa binoculars, muhammad ali’s feet, the precision of a doctor
strength of a ape, work ethic of a boxer
if your mother ain’t ms. wallace or her name ain’t asata
my thought on this battle, hakuna matata
they probably think they dipset when they repping
tech (texts) send a message
boy will be ballin by himself like sheppard
cause i let that gun blow, you hear that?
you about to have some company next show
automatic sound clip when the mussel burst
with a shot like ray, when he feeling like shuttlesworth

[round 2: yung iii]
westside st. louis, my old hood full of bloods
surf visit rocking all that blue smurf stuff
you even smirk you get merked, what?
y’all harmless, we hurt stuff
so trade that magnum and that magnum for a bible and church bus
that 9 bake, prom date, you first tux, get he-rs-d up
a 40 cal, a 40 ounce, a purp dutch
a phone call in 40 seconds i can have everybody on earth touched
so contact jesus when i work up
not 911, n-gg- that’s gon’ get the ambulance shot, the doc knocked, the nurse cut
hospital bed spread, tied around his head/legs
bones fractured and nerves crushed
that flatline go “doo-doo-d000000p” and it’s “clear!” you got served up
y’all from jersey, well jet, i’m a rams fan, what, that ain’t worth much?
well your b-tch gon’ catch bullets too
better warn her/warner how i kurt/cut stuff
verb told me practice, i say, rehe-rs- what?
i heard surf, he garbage, dirt, dust, his verse suck
he the worst slut, he cross dress, leave his purse clutched
drink semen from a straw and burp nut
i could work up and surf gon’ get wet like, “surf’s up!”
gnarly dude, cowabunga, power hunger put a coward under
smack! who is this n-gg-?
why y’all even dial my number?!
see i don’t question marks, my exclamation… point
blank period i’m a semi holder, i tell surf pause like a comma
then put two dots on ’em, turn this n-gg- to a semi-colon
but that’s more than a simile
when i say hypen that mean dash (-) damon
what i’m aiming to leave his whole squad in parenthesis
that’s a casket, to all that pimp shit you talk about on the mic
about the b-tches that you bone and pipe
you in love with your baby mama, her real name is symona wright
aye symona! if you in the building…. text my phone when you get home tonight!
she said “let me put the baby to sleep” i say, “i got you boo boo.”
*shhhh! shhh!* get to boning like *moaning* nut like “ahh!”
hit symona like, nut, drop the baby and then leave smack her on her -ss and don’t text the b-tch phone goodnight
aye surf in love with a stripper, he cuddle, hug her and kiss her
i just f-ck her and don’t tip her, b-tch go on!
i dismiss her
now what’s wrong with that picture?
i see surf out with her
i hit her up like, “what’s good c-nt? i’m trying to come get ya.”
she say, “uh-uh, who’s this?”
i say- nah, i don’t say my name i put the phone down by my big dipper, she like … “iii?”
the b-tch top me off so much she memorize the sound of my zipper
so do your block a favor, and tell ’em you are not a gator
in the kitchen chopping rocks with razors, stop it playa

[round 3: tsu surf]
so yung iii got something to tell
he said f-ck me? well that’s what i do to mich-lle
and that’s his girl, i’m flying if i’m lying
it get hotter than a desert when that llama blam
f-ck change punk, i’m a osama fan
sheryl swoopes your idol, marlon a comets fan
just a n-gg–b-tch that ball, jwanna mann
they say tsunami don’t got it all, something sick in me
cause the boy will catch enough bullets to make the pro bowl, with chris henry
he get cinco form that ocho, oh no!
doc dot b-tton up his top like polo
no gun, f-ck it he getting jumped like pogo
his girl go down and stay down she a yo-yo
head game fabolous, we call da b-tch loso
if your father been running all his life and he a reverend
who that make you? jo-jo!
like you said, you don’t get money you be starving
aye verb flunky, you a little man marlon
pull it down, outline get drew, then they carry him
throw his lil -ss cross the field like a javelin
if he the target, you can see a wall mark (wal-mart) after i splatter him;maverick
scorch him with that sun type of heat, shawn marion
i dare one of you st. louis n-gg-s try to ride on me
they g-ssed up i be cooking, i ride on e
bang like kg, smother turkeys like gravy
talking ’bout he kiss verb cause wayne kiss baby
big guns, lil guys i buck buck post ’em
whole/hole in his bread and for cream cheese i toast him
surf just pop up yelling with them glock up
one shot hit the hoody, rest tear the top up, jersey…

[round 3: yung iii]
i talk to em before i whoop ’em, how your old man do
shit you don’t think fat meets greasy, well i’ma show that’s true
i tell him “go get that switch” he b-tch or say “no can do”
then it’s on and he so d-mn fruit
cause if i have to get my own i’m coming back whooping him on for old and new
like “pow!” that’s for hoping i lose
“pow!” that’s for your daddy’s sperm and every raggedy egg in your mom fallopian tube
“bow!” that’s for being dark skin and dirty, softer than fergie looking 18 going on 30
“bow!” that’s for being another phony rap goon internet thug that wouldn’t get live in a chat room
“bow!” his -ss aching, his back ruined
he run into the kitchen hear is mama from the back room
like “leave my baby alone, you ain’t have to do all that to ’em”
i turn this darn liar to bonfire
a match to ’em, bat to ’em, back shooting
attack ’em and back bruise him
take a 15 minute break… shit, chill and come back to him
toss ’em on a train track and start hacking a axe through ’em
see y’all stunt, my n-gg-s criminals and they all want it
and they all on it, so tell your pitbulls, poodles and puppies, your dogs on it
your group of troopers gon’ get debo’d on friday i’m pops with that pooper scooper, dog hunting
any witness that said they saw something, i’ma saw something
turn surf body to a large woman, toss ’em in the highway
rush hour and make ’em play dodge ball while cars coming
y’all stunting for attention i don’t pay y’all none
til i retire on a pension and my pay off come
but with this word war i’ll world war adolf son
german choppers, napalm bombs and his face all numb
visit his place, i’ll come walk in that driveway unload
he gon’ swear i was the highway patrol
them infrareds make this glock look like a radar gun
but tsunami act wet pussy, moist punani
i don’t need a suitcase lawyer with suits to sue ‘nami’
he gon’ swear martin and gina friend had a twin
when i come with these two tommy’s
my mama saw my last battle, she said my speech was absurd
that foul language won’t get you famous, stop them 4 letter words
a bad mama- shut yo mouth, don’t blame it on me
a glad mother, no 4, i’ma do you in 3
see surf act like he get worshiped like a god
but for that d.o.e. i h.i.t. my d.o.g’s and he’ll get r.o.b’d
you can a.s.k. your m.o.m. who’s your p.o.p… me
and advice to s.o.n. from d.a.d. forget r.a.p. and get a j.o.b
my pockets gon’ spend that worst day large
put some candles on my cake, my checks get signed like birthday cards
i turn this battle to a party, y’all can decorate the room
i got the gift, only thing we missing is the balloons
get this n-gg- outta here man…

- urltv lyrics

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