Both these battlers have been making moves on the West (particularly in West Coast Elites), and made their KOTD debuts here at The Bunker.
Avocado, Illmaculate, and Chase Moore watch this battle on RUIN YOUR DAY.
[Round 1: Saynt]
So this the big leagues, shit I finally made it
Mafia said I'm dying today and it will not be debated
I thought Ron, stomped his face in;
I know that's its not the [?]
Contemplated, thought Atheist; oh, it's God he (Gotti) hating
Black 44, off his (office) face they gone think that Obama made it
And I swear I had that arm in the air like inauguration
That was basic, wasn't hard
Before I let that gun spark
The 4 5th press a dent in his wig; see that's my Trump card
And now the gun butt got dumb blood
If he hide, then it's tough luck
Cause the messy can (mexican) bust through the wall like "Fuck Trump!"
Yeah them bars was Republican
The dirt, you going under it
No sound or sight: I took your senses like the Government
That Trump bar was my last, the scene tragic
Heat clapping
[?] all in his ass, I dump all of the mag
He ran so we ran, yeah I followed his ass
The bullets had him ducked off on the ave like B Magic
I don't wanna stop
I direct, send him a hundred shots
Michael Bay: blow up your set in every fucking spot
The butter got him killed in a jiff, ain't got the money? Bop
Put him in the dirt by the planters, since he from Nutty Blocc
If you ain't know, a long cap have this nut walking with a cane
Shit is strange
This guy Nutty, but Saynt spit insane
Leave this Crip crippled: when I bang, it's a tragedy
He look at the doctor strange 'cause that change his reality
And that's fair enough, scared of what
You? I'm prepared to bust
At you, that tattoo show me just where to buck
Let one buck at his neck: my George Washington sparker
For the Nut, I brought a knife: my George Washington Carver!
See every time I throw a punch, and I land it it's tragic
Ambulance passing, blacking out like Marilyn Manson
Walk in a room full of niggas, and the cannon is splashing
And every body get steel this the Mannequin Challenge
And if he cop a new chain, I'ma murk this nigga
Meaning he'll catch all 10 for that Sterling Silver
No fans, no views, where the fuck they found me though?
I'm bombing in the Bunker all without a Ground Zero
Let's go
[Round 1: Geechi Gotti]
Man, they got Geechi Gotti versus...
Nigga, you's a BITCH!
This a mismatch
This lil' nigga get bitch slapped
Everybody give him a round of applause for that hairstyle too...
They ain't even catch that, that's cold word for get his wig clapped
Big strap, I keep a 40
With a grandma switch; that's a stick on me
Clip full of them bald heads; Big Brody
Man lil' nigga known for fucking up big shit, Rich Homie
Now let's bar up, cause this where the flowing starts
You finna die on Pay-per-view; that's Owen Hart
Heart of a killer, I'm cold blooded, slash his top
I just gave him a buck like I owe something
No fronting cause if I start blasting this shit
I got 100 rounds jammed in the clip
He gone get a 100 to the face like he passed on a lick
Stop gassing his shit
Saynt a trash can
He get the reverse palm; nigga that's a back hand
Man hands down, he the biggest of clowns
I make him bite a bullet; let's see if this nigga can finally finish a round
Round here, it don't make you a gangster just cause you grew up in the hood with games
Nigga you still a non-affiliate
Cause you ain't never chose a hood to bang
In my section, we'll be fucking Saynt up every time we see him like we ain't good with names
Nigga name a time you ever had to shoot a nigga
I bet he don't even got a gun
I keep some big shit
Stupid nigga thought it didn't work cause I told him it was a Tommy gun
Blaow! My city grimey
Nigga believe me
Too much fucking around you'll end up dead, just ask Eazy
I'ma hard nigga to deal with
I keep the steel lit
Try to run when I bust
And bullets going straight to the back like it's a field trip
I wish a nigga will trip
I'm mister disrespectful when I rap
So when I say some shit it's gone hurt
Like "I make yo mamma suck my dick with your battle on the screen"
Just to see which one of them gone choke first
First off, I don't wanna hear no guns about you - I don't wanna hear no bars about guns about how you squeeze the lama
Or how you like the drama
[Lush calls the crowd to hold it down]
First off I don't wanna hear no gun-bars from this nigga
About how he squeeze the lama or how he like the drama
Just another Saynt I can't believe he just like Th3 Saga
This nigga's a hoe
It's damn right I'm pimping on him
C's in his face, I'm really cripping on him
Headshot, you finna see blood on his head like the Pirus tripping on him
Listen homie, you a good kid
Don't make me give you a bad death
On the back of the head with the shot
He wouldn't see pops like his Dad left
Left hook drop, I ain't even use the right
Papa John's face; look like he could use a slice
I only sliced off 3 quarters, see I only gave him half a buck fifty
But think about it, 3 quarters is only half a buck fifty
I'ma shoot till the gun empty
Clip full of them baldies, so after he get the face shot, all he gone see is blood sucka; that's [?]
Now, y'all ain't never seen Blacklist so check this out man
Ey, Mafia nigga, time
[Round 2: Saynt]
Now I always gives props where it's due
I'm never hating
And you nice but I don't think you can fuck with these clever statements
See these niggas told me "Geechi the one I should never play with"
So I got to be focused to body 'chi; meditation
Geechi, he the reason y'all niggas so scared
Man the 4 be your death and I shoot it with no fear
Hand over them high notes if you don't then it's gone air
Mafia? Think Sopranos; I black out of nowhere
And practice was so scared
This a unique step
Chilla Jones and John John; this was two week prep
So keep it rap
But if disrespect what you think best
It's fine print; because in between lines you see techs (text)
And you need techs
I know with the hands you are not colder
Indiana Jones; he reached for the steel and got bolder
And now I'm older but I've been chasing paper since a lil' nigga
When I was lil', wish I balled like I was Bill nigga
I don't fuck with niggas cause ain't none you niggas real niggas
Probably why I'm after all these Jacksons; I don't feel niggas
God damn it feel good to be the best nigga
Like I'm at the sneaker store I'm waiting on a cheque nigga
I like my bitches like my weed, no stress nigga
Hit em twice blow em off, past em to the next nigga
I know these bitches feeling me
I'm trying to get in between
Check her man, now I'm in the box; I got a penalty
Nigga's bitch wanna beat me watch me skeet on repeat
Then right after that second round I'm knocked out like I'm CP
Maybe BG, I spit hot boy
You don't want beef so just stop boy
I could pull them strings, get a couple drums, let them guns sing; we Rock boys
These pussy niggas can't handle it
Rolling round with them candles lit
July 4th, I'm in my court and I'm faded off of that canibus
I could beat him hand to fist
If I'm having a bad day
I'll let the Cal push in his face like Pat Stay
Hell nah, fuck the Patty shit
I grab a fifth, and clapping it
I have his wig blown if I feel the need to cap a nick (Kaepernick)
This nigga dead, feeling like he ate a hundred shell clip
Hundred bucks to his chest, boy that's Money Well Spent
[Round 2: Geechi Gotti]
Ey this nigga couldn't wait for this battle cuz like
He was going round telling everybody like "man this finna be the worst and best Saynt y'all ever seen"
See if that's the truth I wouldn't even care to look
I'm already knowing this finna be the worst Saynt; Erin Brooks
I swear he shook
See thinking he better than me?
Now I got to question the Jo he smoke
I'm handing out L's, Saynt finna catch this in front of everybody; Holy Ghost
Bro a joke
Cause he don't even bang
But I caught him saying words like "Brazy"
Now let me tell y'all why that ain't cool
Cause I know niggas that's willing to die behind that slang bro
And that ain't you
See I'm really cripping
When I first started banging, you probably was to young to come out the house
So unless you getting shot in the face, I don't want to hear Blood coming out your mouth
Cuz know what I'm about
He better watch who he stepping to
Nina knock him down
And them bullets kiss him up to God; that's the Five Second Rule
Listen fool
If I show up rocking the 4'5 on my bullshit, it ain't a Jordan scheme
It's strictly murder, a sad funeral, everybody in that bitch looking like the Jordan meme
Me personally, I let it ring on you like I see this nigga calling but I ain't tryna answer the phone
Cold word; penny for his thoughts
(What that mean?) That mean he getting one sent to his dome
The pistol is chrome, too many shots
Can't even keep a shell count
Bullets hit his organs, he Mike Jones the way I make him spit his cell out
This nigga look like one of them young meth heads
Type of nigga to be in debt off of them habits
Fuck around, and get peeled behind glass like a medicine cabinet
Berettas is clapping
Let's see if he can duck shots
If he ain't dead, his body full of them Jamaican words; (What's that) that's blood clots
This where the fun stops
Cause I'm going all out for the kill
I told these niggas they ain't even gotta pay me
They'll need that extra money for your hospital bills!
Build the West, see that's what we tryna do
We already got a plan in motion
That shit ain't even involving you
Nigga you's a mark, I'll jack son
Matter fact nigga that;s the plan now
Pull up shot in his face, y'all know the slogan
Hand down man down
I'm down for the squad
I was taught if you grew with them niggas
Then you stuck with them
I put the burner to his face
Let's see if he smile at the techs like his crush hit em
I don't fuck with em
I learnt the game
I don't skip lessons
I pop a nigga then toss the ratchet; that's a flip session
Quit flexing, cause you know a nigga got way too many shots
I keep shooting I can't miss you
Even if he ain't dead, I'ma stand over him and give him more pops; Code word was Frank Mitchell
Y'all caught that slowly, cause [?] Mopops was Frank Mitchell
I blow his brains, make his momma wipe tears with his brain tissue
Man I'm really sick with this shit
I even got 5 shots for Mrs. Claus
That just mean blast Saynt Nicholas bitch nigga
And when it's real you can tell
You can see it in they eyes
Like you can see it in they eyes
So go head third round tryna make niggas believe them lies
Nigga, time
[Round 3: Saynt]
Now every time I do a battle I come in this bitch dolo
Just me, and a K with blade in case bro close
So if he run up, I'm stabbing his whole torso
And then I leave with K in the square like y'all logo
If you don't show then I'm on your block
And I'm ready for y'
Flake, I'm conditioned to open caps on his head and shoulders
You already know that name flip shit stale
Saint Nic, Saint Catholic, yeah the shit hits well
But I can do it better, like if I forgot them shells
Brought a bat, man I bet a make this Christian bail
See I could kill my fucking self like a emo nigga
You could talk with to the 12, the police won't get em
But get arrested you still gone have to see those hitters
Cause my niggas kill in a cell like Kemo nigga
Hit my nigga, like "Did the Kemo work"
"Is they all dead?"
No? Then as soon as they out, they got a bald head
Think Debo
I beat yo ass, break his top
Have you paralysed from the neck down, then you getting popped
Al Pacino Scarface death, you get the plot
That mean after that brick to the face, he couldn't feel the shots
I start bombing and it's over
When I cook, this nigga history
Tomm or the Sig Sauer; either book'd or be a mystery
Nah, fuck a Tom, when I throw a bullet it pack a crazy punch
12 gauge, box his whole fam; y'all the Brady Bunch
And if his lady talking crazy I can show him how to train a thot
Or rip the tracks out her hair, fuck how a train a thought
Cause hiding behind a bitch that was never an option
She can't save you, you gone get your heroine shot up
And I don't it peel at his roof he get beaten
The clip hang over, and dug in the roof of his seezer
A clean scene, no blood, Ultraviolet would see the spray
But N.O.M.E. 6; the daylight won't show the DNA
This nigga dead, feeling like he ate a hundred shell clip
Hundred bucks to his chest, boy that's Money Well Spent
[Round 3: Geechi Gotti]
I brought a knife to the gun fight
This 'bout to get way violent
Silencer on the chopper
Only call it a knife cause the K silent
Ey cuz, I'm really from the streets
It's not an image I made up
I just left from the block
With them young niggas K'd up
See I was taught you gotta stay down
That was till I came up
The good time for me, was when snitches stopped bringing my name up
See up in the streets my nigga, I done seen niggas kill they best friends
These niggas be wifing thots
Find out they fucking on they best man
Man I'd lost so many homies in this shit
Sometimes I can't cry
It's fucked up when you think about yo' niggas
And be most surprised that they ain't die
See I'm surprised that I'm still living
I should of been locked in prison
You ever killed a nigga, got high, then forgot you did it
I got a lot of days like that
My life strange like that
Young niggas we had to put in work
Just for them stripes
Yeah we got our name like that
The game like that
I know a lot of niggas who be lying to themselves about these murders so long
They start to believe they self
Niggas who wake up in the morning and grab that pistol before they remember to feed they self
Man this shit is self-explanatory
We in different categories
Where I come from if a nigga bust at you
Retaliation is mandatory
True story, if I ever killed a nigga
I ain't ever had a nightmare about it or any kinda dream
Matter of fact, the only way I'ma have a nightmare about a murder is if I left a witness on the scene
(That's how I rap though, I talk real nigga shit)
Listen man
I seen a lot of niggas die young
That shit is so normal to me that it ain't tragic
I done seen niggas literally get buried in a box, cause they family couldn't afford a casket
This bastard he be lying so much
Half the shit in his raps he make up
I done shot niggas close range
When the blood on they [?] dry that shit look like when tears touch make-up
This the type of shit you can't make up
Wait up, cause I'm an 80's baby
So fuck any generation that came after
I'm the type of nigga that pop a nigga
See his momma later and still wave after
This shit finna get way sadder
Cause when I think about the way the bullets hitting his flesh
It kind of remind you of when a dog be gnawing at a bone
They caught him in an alley back street
He was all alone
Yeah his momma ran up on the body and recognised it
But the soul was gone
She thought he was a clone
Yeah nigga see I came up in a single parent home
My mom's raised me right
She told me "Ride with that strap son, it can save your life"
So not at all am I stressing
I done been shot a couple times I count 'em all as a blessing
Cause even though my dad wasn't around
Somehow them "pops" still taught me a lesson
But when that shit is real y'all can tell like y'all can see it in they eyes
This shit over I hope nobody believe them lies
Nigga time
Saynt vs. Geechi Gotti was written by Saynt & Geechi Gotti.
King of the Dot released Saynt vs. Geechi Gotti on Sat Dec 10 2016.