LYRIC
On the phone talking 'bout his death
But it sound like battle talk
Call the homies for a quick holla, “It’s Summer Madness
Bring the T with a capital, in case of Rich Dolarz
He got Big T? Oh, put Mook on top, or maybe Math, right?
I mean, Calicoe cool, I fuck with Shine, he mad nice
I know, I know, sound like silly shit
But that’s a code for a body
Let me tell you what that really meant
I call the Hitman, this some madness, he gettin’ knocked off
Bring a extra T with a capitol—Tech 9
In case of—Rich Dollaz—in case it pop off
Big-T—he gettin’ quiet money?
I’ll put a dot on his head if the math right, it’ll be very sad
I mean, the Calico cool, but that K will do him very bad
I hope you came with crack, I’m not Roc, these different lines
You know I’m on some shit
You’ll get drugged if I connect, then throw him in a ditch
He’ll die for wifey? Dope, he goin’ with his chick
Bobby and Whitney; I’m talkin’
Layin’ there, smokin’ with his bitch
You was puttin’ in all that work for Harlem
Never break yo' grind
Pick and chose your battles, cool, take yo' time
All that to get noticed, it’s like you waste yo' lines
‘Cause Lux came, how he take yo' shine?
That don’t ache yo' spine?
Lux got everybody in the world saying “You gon' get this work.”
All they remember you for is “Sike”
And killin’ Verb at Summer Madness
And Tay Roc, but that's light
I tie Clips to a chair, then smack him in the neck
You gon' love the show
40 in DNA mouth, only thing left is the bucket though
You watchin’, Charlie? Splat! Then that gun'll blow
I’ll ray Charles, last thing he seen was his brother go
For them Washington’s, we’ll really Training Day somethin’
Do you hear me? Charlie’s house, this new 40′s got Siri
Even if every thing was debatable, I never gave a dub up
Fuck if you in the livin’ room, the kitchen
Or bathroom, I got one to lift the tub up
Me and my two sons burn down with the snub up
Them three fours bark'll leave Charlie chuckin’ blood up
A lot of your bars average, to cover that you be jokin’
Make a scheme out anythin’
And “Sike, I lied” when you be chokin’
Your freestyle was cool, but that poor trick done worn out
He think we never get the picture, his lines be drawn out
You Chilla Jones grandfather age, that’s why your schemes old
They label him a winner, but nothin’ ever seem cold
Me, I feel like the old Vince still bangin’ when that can drawn
I should name what I carry kittles
No kitten, I want that man gone
Miss me with your Nets jokes
I am New Jersey, fuck is this man on?!
Mama told the D’s, "I ain’t know he took the keys."
D’s told Mama we found him head slumpt on that van horn
They say I got a problem, but clappin' tools help
And if that bitch did say somethin’ to the D’s
Then two to your moms, like after school help
[Round 1: Charlie Clips]
I said, Rajon “Tsunami Surf” Cox
Wait a minute, your last name is… whatever, dog
So they put a nigga with one clear win
Against a nigga that arguably never lost
I be beatin' the best niggas in the world, with only two rounds
So that should show you who’s the better boss
So we both kings, but I’m Martin
You Sacramento, and Coretta soft
What’s poppin’, Surf?
Around what month did this battle get locked in, Surf?
Wasn’t it like November?
Well, thanks for givin’ me this easy ass win; I got you, Surf
Got a dot, and that O red
If that’s your man, then you’ll let him spot you, Surf
Flash it in your eyes, like, “That's light!”
Then let it rock you, Surf
And I hate when you be throwin’ shots
And you swear your bars go over tops
So you say shit like, “Urn and Ash is 'Nash'”, nigga, no, it's not
Urn and ash is "urn-ash", with your bird ass
If you were Nash
You probably wouldn’t figure that out until your third pass
I’m a legend, gave Magic a shot
Now he graduating out of bird class
Dismantled Roc, and a couple of my nouns made Verb crash
This cal'll bung ya, flip this nigga board
Make Surf splash. You the champ? Well, you gone get your tidal waved, ‘cause Surf trash
Pardon me, y’all, I always wanted to go through a surf bar
I’ll give shots, with your bitch at the beach
Like I created a surf bar
Or I’ll give shots, shots, shots to everybody; that’s a Surf bar
If he givin’ shots to everybody, he just buyin’ out the surf bar
Surf bar, google that!
For those who ain’t know, that’s a Google fact
But that was so out of this world
Some of y’all might just need Google Map
I’ll search for him, then click on Surf; that’s a YouTube app
The gun under the big T going bink bink biggity boo boop bap
You wanna know what's so crazy about this, bro?
It's I’m actually fuckin’ you up with all wordplay
I’m actually winnin’ this round
And I ain’t spit a punchline since Thursday
You want one? Okay, cool
You about to get a few of 'em in the worse way
From now on, December 14th
Is national “What the fuck happened to Surf?” day
You had a AR on your hip against Hollow, right?
Ever since then it had my mind puzzled
So I went and bought a black K
That’s about this tall, it look like Shine double
Sit that shit right on your back, I make your spine buckle
The clip take 'bout 20 minutes to load; I’m havin’ Vine trouble
But that gun is light, let me throw that one away
Now we on to the next page
You know what I got too? A Smith that will have your team runnin’ back, it will look like the Jets played
Got another gun, that will cock back
And blow your squad to the next gauge stage
What kind of gun is that? Shit, I don’t know
It’s unidentified, it’s like Rex age
They like, "Damn, what happened to Surf?!"
I don’t know, he got retired on Doomsday
Tried to get rehired, then got re-fired when the tools spray
You never spent a G on your sneaks
If you do you’ll be lyin' by Tuesday
Your created player gotta be tired as hell
For you to have the G on your feet, in 2k
But let’s get these bars crackin'
Some of y’all might think that’s light
I did that line on purpose for y’all, see i just did some bold shit
I wanted to show you niggas somethin’ right
To show y’all that’s some cold shit
Proving Grounds niggas only get 30,000 views per battle
And them niggas be spittin’ some cold shit
And Hitman be gettin’ 800 fuckin’ thousand views
And he be spittin’ some old shit
So you mean to try to tell me, so hold on, y’all tryna tell me, I can say, “I’m that nigga that gave Tay Roc…”
And I hit Smack for cheddar?
If that’s the case, on some G shit, I'ma be wack forever
But don’t worry about this round though
Yeah, Smack, you extra… I fucked up… Sike, I lied, nigga!
You told them that earlier, I couldn’t fuck up if I tried, nigga
Let me explain these bars to you
Bullet on your head, like a Cardinal
You think your squad with me
I got that shotgun, it’s in my arsenal
How you want your ribs, nigga?
Action Jacksons, you want barbeque?
Lil’ nigga, I’m just here on stage, I came to slaughter you
[Round 2: Tsu Surf]
See, this gon' be the slightest bit blurry, I'ma make it very clear
You need more than jokes, Charlie
This is why you'll get buried here
To stomach this shit, he should be good, ‘cause he heavy there
The cops said: “It was just DNA and DNA everywhere.”
Rest in peace, Paul Walker!
Clips drop from a fast six when I’m shootin’ shit
He in the whip? No Vin, these'll
Have that car scene lookin’ ludicrous
They said: “Surf, you gotta battle in the D
Better take a pair, a nigga might clap you.”
Aren't you even half concerned I did what I have to?
Why? ‘Cause the man go 10 hours
With the lemon squeeze to a battle, probably mean he definitely brought the banana clips to the Apple
And you from Harlem, right? Tell Randy I shotgun Moss niggas
Tell K… don’t tell him nothin’, I already killed that soft nigga
Tell Lux I headshot red dot boss niggas
And my daddy wasn’t a lost nigga
My daddy had plans, goals, dreams
We had scams, foes, schemes
My daddy was drivin’ towards family, a gate, a fence
We had gloves, a mask, tents
And why the fuck Roc keep sayin’ my name?
Tay, is he in these hair lines; that’s LeBron, Tay
Send some Vikings through, did you how I do Da Don, Tay
You never seen a bitch like this 'til you seen mine Tay
Cops come, I don’t know the dame
Beef, I’ll rather face you straight
Like playin’ bluff at a Poker game
All I know is aggression, press him
Wherever you and your friends play
Puttin' more bitches in a box than Woman Crush Wednesday
I got a great resume, can’t say who he battled
Fed X a box, put a million views right on Shine
Practically never had a week battle
I was alone in Detriot, classic, and with Con, duh
I been to snake fights; Clips, why should I be rattled?
This a Desert, he ain't’ been ready for a gun this big
Since the Big T battle. Jersey!
[Round 2: Charlie Clips]
I committed a few sins in my life
So Lord know I’m the wrong one to be preachin’, nigga
But somebody gotta pray for your bars
It’s either gon' be me or a deacon, nigga
‘Cause you told Hollow ain’t nothin’ in him G
To make it sound like "MMG"; you be tweakin’, nigga
And you said: “When we get up, we gotta Meek.”
Question: How do you “Meek” a nigga?
Lord knows I wanna bar you to death right now
But I gotta teach the nigga
This my son, I haven’t been in his life
Well, now Daddy’s back to beat the nigga
I bought Playstation 4 three weeks ago
And played Street Fighter for the whole weekend, nigga
If I had a chance to do that Maybach scheme
Cool, only I could have it my way
I would’ve told Hollow I need Millz by Thursday
If you don’t have you gettin’ Dunplay on Friday
Hung the phone up on Hollow
Call my little bitch, her name Sharde
She 4’8”, give great head standin’ up, so why lay?
You said: “If you want your life, crawl for it
You want tickets to the gate, then it’s access granted
I’m on the block with somethin’ DeAndre’s size
One word to describe that night, Brandon."
That thought process was fire
But the DeAndre shit I would’ve threw it away pronto
I would’ve been at a nigga door 6AM
With the long nose; it’s Gonzo
Soon as he open up “errr!”
Heat to the center of his chest, throw a combo
One word to describe that mournin’: Alonzo
Fuck I gotta put in subtitles or somethin’?
Or slow it down and just diss you? Yall ain't get it?
I said, fuck, I gotta put it in subtitles or somethin’
Let’s slow it down I just dissed you
I see what you like to do, Surf
You steal niggas shit and you know I don’t condone it
You went from Dhalsim to Tsang Sung
‘Cause you battle niggas and steal the life of your opponents
Well, I'ma tell you some thing, it’s time to wake up
Especially if you wanna dream like this
I dare you to steal my life
‘Cause you feed it in rider to scheme like this
I said, um, the Nets lost they team, right?
Well, come and work for me, you a nigga I'd be proud to hire
It’s coke residue everywhere
You need goggles around my knicks; Stoudamire
I’ll turn you into a vegetable
Put you in a garden when that AR spit
Aye, John John, I got a baby Wesson
But my shit name ain't JR Smith
I said, nah, difference is it Spike Lee
This nigga party with the losers
I’m in the center of the block; I’m Bargnani to the shooters
I got a JR Smith clip, right? ‘Cause the God'll spray Rugers
So when I sub the clip then it take your heart away, junior
To keep it 100 I had more, it was about to get worse for you
But you begged to go three minutes
And I still made this hearse for you
But I'ma give you bar after vat in round three
It’s gone feel like God cursin' you
They wanna hear bars, Surf
They ain't pay $60 cash to hear personals
Would do to Pacquiao if he fought him?
What Elmer Fudd would’ve did to that bunny if he caught him?
Think of dismantle, destroy, destruction, distort him
Sometimes an ass whoppin’ ain't always an ass whoppin’
If at the end of the day you taught him
100 bars, hella punches, and killer schemes
With a few jabs at your bitch
They gon' have to get her a cane, if she feel a pain
Hurricane, typhoon—whatever, all destruction, same shit
I came with three clips, Charlie
Look, I nameflip even when I don’t wanna nameflip
But back to that main bitch, offer a pillow when I come for her
When she was sleep, now the cops bring the sheets
Left her on a bed spread, I didn't comfort her
Crazy, I could make your bed
And kill your bitch in the same line
I still wonder how I could think about kissin’ my daughter
And killin a nigga, in the same mind
A bunch of top tier niggas lookin' regular
Guess I’ll throw my weight around
I’m afraid your gonna end up in a holy field
Ain't no time to play around
No tie, son, Hitman verse Martin; I won't waste a round
Feelin’ like Cashis, wanna play? Cool, I’ll shake him down
Ash Cash your girl? I can't say nothin’
‘Cause beauty in the eye of the beholder
You might think you got a bad chick
Boy, I got somethin’ to put Cash aside, like the last flip
Only Ash is the ash, play body like a bad bitch
Bitch, you’ll come home and find cash
On the table, like the Fast 6
I want my shit on the 12th at 12 on the dot
Play, you gettin’ shot, ‘cause everything timin’; I mean OJ Mayo
But for them bucks I’ll put grizzlies behind him
A $100 bet for anybody that don’t know
What I'ma do to this nigga
Split him in half, they gon' have to bag two of this nigga
It’s fucked up, mother still need a view of this nigga
Over the body, like, “Ewwwwww, who is this nigga?!”
Hoody, snorkel and srap how I hide from the windshield
I catch him in that car, say your goodbyes, it’s been real
Take two steps, squat, breathe and sit still
Then sweep from the side, like parkin’ on the street cleanin’ side; his brain what you find on the windshield
I’ll have 100 bloods outside your house pop, Clips sick?
It’ll sound like I gave that man a cure when the shells done
Options? Well, run, left trigger run, duh, he a frail one
Besides, we treat them dogs like Asians
Cuticle out, give him that nail gun
Manicure, cuticle, nail gun, Asian, play on dogs
That’s a lot of shit; Surf that type of hitman that just wave through, I ain't gotta holla shit [Round 3: Charlie Clips] Let’s get this funeral service started
‘Cause this shit here should’ve happened a while ago
Notice I said funeral, ‘cause your face was dead
In Pharaoh’s box, you be wildin’, bro
I won't even judge how you almost gave her the clap
‘Cause that’s a talent show
All I know is when I’m loaded niggas get caskets
When I rap; shout-out to Calicoe
Is Tsunami gon' get this work? Well, I mean of course, nigga
See, it’s my job to help you work on your drive
To make your Porsche quicker
I'm just here to expand your mind
And make your thoughts slicker
Man, I told Lux this shit ain't gone work
Let me get back to being a lost nigga
I’m from a back block, where kids had to learn to play hopscotch around cracked tops
My shooters computer smart
But got a whole different way on how they usin’ a laptop
Hit your back space, watch your spine
Get deleted once that MAC pop
Your body shift, then your organs shut down
When them caps lock
You Tsunami, but your wave on the block make the fiends mad
My work can make LeBron stop jumpin’, it do your knees bad
Got three fiends, they call me every morning
Sayin’ they need bags, I send the work out
And watch 'em run to the base; it look like a freeze tag
See, to you that’s a punch, but to me that’s just a mean jab
My real punches Mayweather like, I know you seen Zab
Let it ring at a square, bring your box in when I squeeze mags
Get him ripped up in about 8 seconds; that’s a speed bag
Y'all want bars? Well, I got 'em, whether you want 'em or not
Extended arms, hit your hood; look like I’m huggin’ your block
Fuck your girl, leave the condom on her pussy
When I'm done with her twat
Watch this hamburger help her
And try to take my glove off her box
You like her, you wanna wife her
But me and my niggas, we get to share it
My gun a motivational speaker; that shit’ll life your spirit
Tool so big I gotta propose when I get to air it
On one knee lettin’ it ring, like I went to Jared
But you're big homie Crip, Tsunami Surf
Fuck outta here with your boring tales!
See, you get caught with guns
But you never do time, you do more than tell
You front like you wanna get locked up or go to war in jail
You let them put the battery I your back
But I know you can't endure a cell
Ain't your last name on some gay shit?
Yeah, isn’t it Cox? Well, listen Cox
I don’t wanna hear you rapping about grippin’ a Glock
And Suge real name is Jimmy… Yeah, Jimmy—just stop!
Your parents had to be crazy
To name you niggas Jimmy and Cox
He like, “Nah, my last name Cox
‘Cause I’m hard on the block and I get big bread.”
Nigga, your last name Cox ‘cause your pops was a dickhead
And tell that nigga Jimmy to watch his mouth
‘Cause on some G shit, he can die after
For actin’ hard, I let somethin’ peel at Jimmy; that’s Viagra
Big dot on Suge face, like Chrissy, when that llama blown
All you'll see is somethin' ratchet
Barking on Jimmy; that's Mama Jones
Run in Surf crib while his family there, make 'em all lean
This clip'll put every Cox in a box; that’s a porn scene
Look at him, I got him tight
They all probably wanna jump me if they could
But they won't, you know why?
‘Cause niggas know my aim is way good
Put that shotgun in Arsonal mouth, make 'em say "Suge"
Headshot, watch his brain leave from the locks, like J Hood
I’m back, this the Charlie Clips that fucked up Tay-Tay
Made X Factor cry and made Verb take a vacay
You better call mayday, I start grabbin' that AK
That shit go sssmmaaccckkkkk
I’ll finish that when you pay me my 8k
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