LYRIC

[Round 1: Rum Nitty] {Nitty mimics Twork's signature bounce and hand gestures}
I know what you bout to do, really
{Screaming} "I got the tool with me!
Leave? You won’t get a chance… this shit a drop an opp or two, Nitty (opportunity)! BOW!"
We got Rum Nitty versus… I'll clap yo big ass
Put a round in you, lay you down crippled
The shit I pull out nickel
Loud pistol, the cal clip you
Praying Buddhist; you doing all this BOW-ing, now you amongst (a monk's) someone that’ll BOW with you
BOW, I back out a big grip
BOW, BOW, get you clapped up relentless
It hold 12, and this the final mil (meal)… who think Jerusalem can last up (last supper) against it?
BOW, a shot flare
They ducking from it, all the opps scared
They set you up, threw you inside the hot chair
This my spot, you won't survive here
Remain king, and I'ma reign (rain) until I'm god-tier (God tear)
Yo rounds full of Glocks and shells, chops and 12s
I see you know a lot about guns, it ain't hard to tell
You talk it well… but the shit I pull out'll body experienced (out-of-body experience) niggas; you better watch yourself!
And I could switch the mood: you can't label a nigga without a body experienced… look at it from a different view
War time, I slide through the scene, leave shit wet up
Winchester, mask on, hopping out the V For Vendetta
Lil nigga, stay grabbin' on the pole
This Napoleon Complex keeps me with a hand inside the coat
I’ll clap you from the go
Smack know I suffer from anxiety… this my third Volume (Valium) in a row
Cold, swing on me and I’ma peel (pill) one
Scorching rounds, leave you boiled down if you try to steal (distill) Rum
Top dog, a nigga you should not cross
Lockjaw, pistol whip you when the Glock draw
Over the head the handle do him dirty… then throw a round inside of Jerzey like Hot Sauce
You can see these comin'
You booked a fight with the boxer from Harlem Nights; a repeat puncher
The hot type, keep your eyes down unless you tryna fight
On God, don’t look back, you'll get assaulted… like Lot's wife
I did him worse
Before I kill him first, suicide; put the stick to yourself like an introvert
Nigga purge, the clip hold 30, and I'll put the whole number into Jerz’ (integers)
BOW, .9'll peel
I run down on you like, "You Slime for real?"
Then I get Five X'd with the .9, why (5x, 9y)? You ain't getting by no mil' (binomial)
A lotta steel
I'll pull a MAC with the green light on Twork; Dollar Bill
Beretta to his dome
Set tripping like "How you turn Blood?"
BOW, you ain't never going home!
You ain't for real right? Well keep it real with me
Niggas be 3 minutes over the time limit cause they fear Nitty, bitch
You can't keep it real yourself, suicide or-

{Twork cuts off Nitty's slogan}

[Round 1: Nu Jerzey Twork] I said yo!
These rappers wild pussy
Niggas always doing my style cause they style iffy
This nigga did the bounce and the "bow"… til he get hit with the loud .50
And that's a Lil' BOW… Wow! You gon' 'Bounce With Me'
Cal' spitting, even Rich can go
You know… "bounce with me, bounce-" you gon' grab your partner and hit the flo'!
Pistol blow, y'all seen Jerooz bout with Verb?
I'm 'bout to take this one to the grave, you got my word
Drive-by, chopper out the GMC, I shoot out the bird
K clip, press down on a half-moon; do not disturb!
This shit absurd, hot revolver, ready to load it and pop it
Just got it, can't wait to spin (spend) it, this shit burning a hole in my pocket
I'll load it and cock it, then the lead pop
Or we can do this shit MAC to MAC, like an airdrop
Nah, old sniper rifle *chk chk* fresh out the repair shop
Fuck Rum, this shit vodka, I got a clear shot!
BOW, y'all done put me in a weird spot
Thought I was gonna show up here with no rounds? Cool
I'm telling you, Rum… vodka… this ain't about to go down smooth
I blow damn tools, lift a tool
Nigga nervous, got him sweating bullets, and he gon' get it too
I squeeze two, you drop your pen, I breeze through
[Singing "Location"] "If you send me your-" you don't know where that could lead (Khalid) to
I bang nigga, Piru Blood gang member
Thing lift up

{Scuffle breaks out}

Let's raise the stakes
Razor blade, *fft*, how sweet the sound; 'Amazing Grace'
I'm in your hometown rollin' 'round
Hop out holdin' pounds, pistol whip
I ain't stopping 'til it's a Nitty (Nitti) beat; 'It's Going Down'
I hold the crown, so even if you not a fan, niggas been getting washed in Jersey, like Juwanna Mann
TEC pop, pull to the side; rest stop
Chest shot, BOW… big ass round; Epcot
I'm rambunctious, the can dumpin'
Shotgun lift you off your feet, that slam dunk shit

{Shotgun Suge jumps in and dunks on Nitty}

You's a damn flunkie, nigga your time is soon to come
You seen what happened to Exclusiv Vodka? What you think they gon' do with Rum?
Ruger dump… every round you callin' out K Shine man, I'm only doing this for the hood
I'm walking on son, Shine ('Walking on Sunshine'), don't it feel good?
I'm Strapped In! I'll clap you in a coma
Madness! I could snap at any moment
I did the salsa; I'm bilingual
Too seasoned, sofrito
Little blade, poquito (poke-ito)
Mint condition, cut you to the white, Rum; mojito
Jersey!

[Round 2: Rum Nitty] End up with a bust head
Little Hawk, something small slammin'; Spud Webb!

{Nitty dunks on Twork}

I'm straight to it, no time to converse
I'll put you in it for tryna find dirt
Desert in the old western like Wyatt Earp
.9 burst… y'all said he was gon beat me to death?
Y'all right… *chk chk*… he died first!
It's a difference how I'm workin'
You all done, and soon as I warm up they zippin' over Jersey
Infinite, can't see the penmanship
A cold piece, I'ma OD, wash you, that's Whitney shit
Shells jumpin' out on the floor when I'm peeling it
Can' in the hoodie, then the cases drop… like Zimmerman
BOW, I get you drug out bad
I don't give a fuck if you six foot, seven foot… the guns come out fast!
And this K loaded got range on it
Stay smokin', it's an instrument of death (deaf); like Beethoven
Bang on him, the first round bust like Greg Oden
I hit Ryda with a Kel-TEC
Jakk get a shell next
Then I make you an offer, Drugz (off of drugs); once you see this 12, step!
No way to dodge it
Drive-by, letting the chop off out the window; Lorena Bobbitt
Stainless clock him, this shit'll break your face, I promise
Gun butt, it crack inside the hood; Reaganomics
Pop him, gun up to his frame
BLAOW, the baby Drake from the side view; Nothing Was the Same
I'll run you out your lane
We all poppin', but when y'all stallin', I'm the one that remains at the table; autopsy
You can't compare the bars, stop it
Them ain't enough… you gon' have to rig 'em or this (rigor mortis) gon' be a hard body
I'm out east wit' it, tryna do you dirty, cuz
In a hooptie swerving up
He 'Faneto'; I'm riding through New York… finna go and shoot Nu Jerzey up
Tell him come try it, more than one dyin'
Slide, I'm shady with the Tom (time); Sundial
Gun fire, put a bullet in you, then BLAOW, BLAOW… it'll be more in Jerzey (B-more and Jersey); Gun Titles
Your man jumpin' ship, back stabbed his clique
You know the code, ain't no coming back if you switch
I'll razor blade his neck, got him gasping and shit
Then another slash on him quick
Then Roc a give him that seat belt treatment, he'll never be strapped in again!
You get no love, I load up with a steel .50 when I roam up
Hold it like an old grudge
Cause we don't let shit pass over (Passover), I'll bring it to your door, Blood
If you lack respect, then I'm at your neck
Fuck a gun line king, I'm the GOAT with these deuces; Baphomet
You can't keep it real yourself
Nigga suicide or I'll do the job, you decide… kill yourself

[Round 2: Nu Jerzey Twork] I said yo
You just awful
I mean, we both talk about clips often
But you just so fucking one-dimensional, every line, your grips sparkin'
I tell this nigga, "I'll bury you 6 feet deep, or put your body where the fish swarming"
How this bitch want it?
Land or lakes (Land O'Lakes)?
And if you can't talk about nothing but a stick (butter stick), I'm 'bout to win this by a big margin (margarine)
SIG Sauer, I come to the Insanes and move your landmarks
Dual revolvers in the streets, we gon' do a standoff
I'm really Piru, was 'Never Too Much'; Luther Vandross
He ain't no motherfucking Crip-

{Rum throws a C in Twork's face}

BOW, I blew his hand off!
Can' spark, this shit about to pop
I don't wanna hear none of that NWX Goonies shit… you been crew-jumping since you got in here, you can't tell me shit about my stock
You went to Team Homi, left the Writers, said fuck em and started dishing out the shots?
Nigga only reason you got experience is cause you been around the Bloque (block)
Drive-by, I got experience, I'll bend around a block
Sit, plot, watch, I'm looking in position
Squeeze, sitting on my lap, I stuffed the bullets in the Smith&'
This nerd (N.E.R.D.) dropping, I tell my driver, "Wait a minute", and then I pull up with a 'Lemon'
Dippin', pass the crib, pole stickin' out
You wanted Twork? Well now there's some holes (hoes) in his house
I found the road to your house, and all it took was one to tell
I know about your sister […], I know about your son […] Rest in peace to mama […]

{Fight breaks out, Smack pulls an impromptu intermission for seven minutes}

[Round 2 cont.] I know every street, every route, and I was hunting for days
GPS kept freezing up, but I'm still stuck in my ways (Waze)
They found this boy split open, thin blade on the salmon joint
I left blood on the edge of the knife; but that's beside the point
These niggas harmless in a fight
All these fucking vets on cam' fronting for y'all fans, but behind closed doors they always be polite
Tryna offer me advice
In private, friend; public, enemy (Public Enemy); 'Don't Believe the Hype'
I gave y'all moments! I had to come out the hood first
I had enough of that, chop in (choppin') the trunk like a lumberjack, this shit came out the wood works
I leave no takers, chrome, stainless
Revolver rotatin'
Suicide or I'll do the job? Headshot, that was a no-brainer
Your soul appointed
I commit a murder and don't remorse it
Take time… y'all want me to be stable? Hold your horses
Heaven's waiting, Hell's watching
Shell popped him
Funeral, casket, frail body
Choirs with the hymns (hems) wide; bell-bottoms
He in solitude from the Llama too
Bigger .9 the tool
Add em (atom) bonded together, that's a molecule
I got the option to blast the Smith&'
Trigger finger itching, don't make any rash decisions
The mag extended, this gon' be a tragic endin'
I stretch the clip
Put you down by 30, ain't no coming back from this… death is it (deficit)
You wanna play tough? Til I hold the gun straight up
And he run, strait up
Moving slow as molasses, already see what Rum made of
He know we annihilate
I'm from the Town, you ain't peep the crime rate?
Kill your fam, he gon see it my way
Mother and (in) your daughter body, Freaky Friday
You tryn' play?
Jersey

[Round 3: Rum Nitty] You ain't no gangsta, niggas know it
Yous a thief, the "type work" you put in for your name, we don't condone it
You wrestled that bitch for a purse – grabbed, snapped the shoulder strap, then came up with your slogan, I know this
You out here thirsty widdit
You ain't lurking, purging, you taking purses, so I'ma reverse the feelin'
I got the urge to get him
Smack flew me in from Phoenix to book a Jersey nigga
You know I'm finna shoot
Bullets going in his roof
Brandy, Monica, if these hit the boy, his mind ('Boy Is Mine') get torn between the two
Nigga move, watch your mouth or get a gun in yours
Fuck you think I tuck em for?
Cross the line, I'll pull a grip on both sides; tug of war
My niggas wild dangerous, .50 cal' banging
I'm talking bout shooters like Craig Sager, I keep a loud Blazer
Play me, I'll clap you bitches
I'll put you in the trunk and whoever else amp you in it
Your manager get this MAC I'm gripping
BOW, a bullet go through Rome and (Roman) ruins half the building
You see how I'm spazzin'?
Damn near every line hit, I cannot die; I'm a Highlander
Two poles busting, emergency room they rush you
Soon as the doc holla (Doc Holliday), "They dead", you know a Tombstone comin'
Who want it? I'm a can' gripper
Point it (pointed) at the top of the hood, then I cut out (eye cutout) like a Klan member
Clap niggas, OD'ing with two guns; Mac Miller (MAC, mil', or…)
I knock your teeth out if I ever swing
Tiger Woods; one hook a (hooker) make you lose everything
Let it ring, large gauge
From out a buckshot a pellet can fly (pelican fly); Scarface
You better bat back or your necked get stabbed at
Your rib, I'll slash that
I'll switch places with the blade, I'm a class act
Get clapped at, through the cross hair I'm lining up the pole
Then I zero in on one (zero end on one), that's binary code
I take yo' shit and use it against you
Fuck Leonidas, if I squeeze the tightest, lead roaming (Roman) through Jerusalem temple
BOW… kill yourself

[Round 3: Nu Jerzey Twork] I said yo
When I was eleven years old a Hoover Crip killed my uncle Flip… every night I wished him back from out the dead
I always said I'd get them niggas back… my name Twork, that mean I put in work behind every action that I said
And growing up, gang violence was always a red flag to me; couldn't quite wrap my head around it, and then I took this red flag and wrapped it 'round my head
This shit madness
This time around I'm on some whole other rap shit
If I gotta pull the chrome then I clap it
Tragic, I'm in Arizona with the ratchets
You don't get clapped in a coma or a casket
Just crematures in a flower vase in Phoenix
Cause if I gotta fire birds, all you a get is a rose from the ashes (arose from the ashes)
I'm past tense, put you in the past tense, I'm shaking your pride
You can't possibly be knowin' none of this gangster shit you state in your rhymes
You see how easy it was for me to find the place you reside?
You niggas really wanna be G's (Bee Gees)? Try Staying Alive
I wait in my prime, I don't know how many enemies I got, it's too many
I wait til they present themselves, and yeah, I slide on an opp' or two, Nitty (opportunity)

[Crowd member] Steams!

[Twork] Steams said that too
I should have been tossing his shit
Already left shells in one Cake, don't get lost in the mix!
Watch your motherfucking words, nigga make the right moves
I rap with it on me; flow (Flo) with the thing, I got a name-your-price tool
Nigga name your price
I'll put the .40 on your manager, if you laugh now it'll save his life
No? Well I give this nigga in blue 42, you better take a hike
You not widdit Rum
I put every nigga in the Fourth down, he went for it like he not finna punt
I line men (linemen) up, you try to rush? My whole block finna come
Then the Quarter back (quarterback) gettin' a shotgun; he don't even get the option to run
I'll take his life for real
Dome shot the Insane Crip, light the steel
Hit a nigga from 'Insane In The Membrane'; Cypress Hill
You get the picture? Nitty trippin'
Suwooping, I'm with the business
In all red like 2Pac with the paparazzi; I'm a spitting image
It's no reasonin' in that
He know Piru "Crip" in reverse, but the C is on his back
We dome-sparkers
Drive-by, out the '06 Dodge, the chrome sparkin'
You try to Jet, I'll let the Tom' lend son (Tomlinson) somethin' out the old Charger
I'm outside his home stalkin', caught him and his chick vibin'
Big .9 spit, tried to hit Nitty, fuck around and got his bitch bodied
TEC-9 with the [?] and it's led astray (lead astray), but your misguided (miss got it)
SIG firing, we dumpin' tools
My uncle was a Civil War vet, serial still on [?] musket too
Had the old number too (old #2), that's what my uncle drew (Uncle Drew)
Hand on the weapon
You was talking all that racist shit to Iron Solomon? I'm bout to school Nitty and teach a lesson
Headshot your mom sister…
You was talking like you hate Jews, and now they gotta get your auntie some medics (antisemitics)
I don't give him a chance to get better, I'm on the rooftop letting go rounds from a distance
Then jet after the smoke like a chemtrail; they won't even have a cloud of suspicion
I'm from down in the trenches
And my goons at the house where your bitch is
Choppers gon make that a loud area
We even pad the walls; I told em if she even make a sound, bury her (sound barrier)
Beretta bout to blow
I'm taking Cornell Powell on an Arizona Grand Canyon trip and he petrified to go
You gon' miss your family? We don't even gotta sever ties at home
I throw you all off the cliff den, Powell (Clifton Powell), you'll Never Die Alone
Jersey

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