Brizz Rawsteen vs. Rum Nitty

[Round 1: Rum Nitty]
Rum Nitty vers' Brizz Rawsteen...it's gon' be a crazy one
It's a lot of battles on this card tonight, but this gon' be your favorite one
I ain't gon' play wit' him
I slide up, bangin' him
Get fired up, 100 in the high point: Chamberlain
You like poppin' jaws
We don't talk at all
So it's a lot of fire bottled up like a Molotov
We let choppers off
Fuck a vest, this entire (on tire) round will go clean through your armor Raw (Armorall)
Hard, soft, meth, we get all that off
Stretchin' the work, we was steppin' on the glass like mazel tov
They said he a vet', stop the lies
You trollin', I'll do this fake pro foul (profile): Vada Fly
You gon' die cryin' 'bout the clock, that's the type of shit I'm on
Me? I'm not worried 'bout no time difference if I'm in my zone
Sawed off, I slide by peelin' it
Get a Shotgun round
Now he can't tell you what life like, period
They say I got the advantage in Cali, well y'all got it back east
So we not playin' no games at home, like the last seed
This gon' be a wild card, I'll fight you, southpaw
Jab, jab, then a hook'll (hooker) come after you like a outcall
I'll let somethin' loud off
Get bodied, this Rocky trainin', you'll get boxed with the cal' (cow) Raw
I strapped the team
Do you dirty, wash you with the hands
The shit I'm sayin' it ties (sanitize) in together
That was clean!
Go against me your soul gets sent, unload a clip
I'm a different animal with the pole, I already told him (totem) this
Done battled most ya clique
Go to war with anybody, I don't care who Raw (hoo-rah), that soldier shit
A shell hit him
Stomach shot, cookin' Raw inside, I'm a rare nigga
Get the whole family clapped, is you crazy?
I'll show you and ya bitch how this 12 Play, then I empty the other half on a baby
Aye, if he interfering then it's a killin', pull a Taurus
Fuck if Brizz ill (Brazil), this bitch Brazilian
Don't get me near him
I'll choke him
Compress Raw vocals, I'm engineerin'
We be ridin' by the pad strapped
Spin the block
The ladder'll (lateral) come out when we pass back
We mob different
Try me you all get it
Close range, it fly in ya mouth like a frog lickin'
I pull steel out and dog bitches
You seen me cap Tsu (capsule), now I gotta flip the script and let it peel (pill) at a Raw (Adderall) nigga
I got a problem
Pill poppin' monster
Pull an Oxy get caught in (cotin) the top, then I molly wop him
I know this ya nigga, but I gotta drop him
I'll be a different tier (tear) for smokin' Smack man, like Bobby Johnson
Bitch, you can't keep it real yourself
Nigga suicide or I'll do the job, you decide
Kill yaself

[Round 1: Brizz Rawsteen]
So it's back to the small rooms?
I did all this shit for nothin'?
I'm sick, disgusted
Bitch, you 'bout to get ya wig split, concussion
Ya shit get busted
I come through with two arms out...like a distant cousin
Cousin!
I throw a round sideways at a Crip
Somebody tell him it's a frisbee comin'
BAOW!
I squeeze 'til it's empty, dumpin'
Then the guts fall out, trust me
You don't wanna see Rum on no empty stomach
I'm just here to let Smack record it while I'm smackin' shorty
The hand'll (handle) be on Rum like some Captain Morgan
This is a rare decision, for y'all to contrast
That mean compare what's different
Cause he been foolin' y'all, but this is proof to y'all that it only take a little Rum to impair ya vision
Can you see it nigga?
Tonight the weapon rise up
Step aside or get the barrel in ya mouth, it's a breathalyzer
I air him out, that mean it take all the breath inside ya
Fuck hash browns
This time the tre (tray) link next to the egg, it's a breakfast sausage
I don't care about the set he throws
You Crippin' nigga, we already know
One swipe give his head a hole
Ya nigga better get a bowl
Cause when the brain squirt that shit look like SpaghettiOs
Nitty, whatever
One of the great ones, Nitty was never
I'll rip Nitty apart, they gotta nit him together
I rip the skin off Nitty, then I knit him a sweater
Chill Rum, or get put on ice, I chill Rum
I got the fifth, when the cap let off I'ma spill Rum
I got a round and two sticks to bang it's a real drum
The proof ain't strong enough, I don't feel Rum
Beat me? It's no way he can I'm okay wit' it
I came to LA to put the whole blade in a bitch, I'm OJing shit
The knife comes at a curve then goes straight in him, yeah
Bisexual blade, goes both ways in him, yeah
I brought two sticks for (k)Nit', I'm crocheting him
Dumb nigga don't play
One shot'll wet Rum, another shot will leave him mo' wet (Moet), that's how you turn Rum into Rose
Look, I'm back but my knife's round
And when my knife's around I bring my knife's around his neck 'til the blades bend and my knives are round
I bring it up, just to show you how my knives get down
He got some lines wit' him
I admit, his gun lines witty
But he lyin', he ain't had a gun one time wit' him
This real on the rocks vs. a gay ass rum cocktail with a lime in it
I'ma kill you, it's only right
You overhype
Smack is Kanye cause he made this bitch a 'Celebrity Overnight'
It's over for you chosen mice when the cobra strike with the overbite
I don't care if he 120 or 8 proof
Tell him watch what he say dude
The Desert Eagle spray crews
Over bars you see shots comin' out of that bird, that's Grey Goose
He wave a tool, I wave two
Like, aye PEWN!
Bullet hit the head made the waves move
Then they smacked up against the wall like a wave pool
Little nigga you gon' talk to who?
The only thing you gon' let kick off is ya shoes
I offered dude
This .40 will toss a dude
I mean literally, knock ya little Gary Coleman ass way 'cross the room
You ever heard of a Chopper Rhino?
That's a revolver that shoots from the bottom, it could chop a rhino
Stupid, ya dead
Fuck ya niggas, I brought Spanish shooters instead
Yeah, we off that Puerto Rican rum
You get a shot in the dome and it can take off a cube of (Cuba) ya head
I'ma slaughter dawg
He won't need a doo rag on at all
Cause the .40 will turn a nigga's waves into waterfalls
Talk get ya mouth swole
Body dragged outdoors
I had killers in his crib on the low like a mousehole in crouch mode
The Glock got at least three bodies, it's like a couch bro
Is this Kings Of Comedy? Then why they bring him 'round here
I lay him down here
They said he had the long nose comin' down wit' somethin'
The MAC (Mack) send him back up like, "Him downstairs"
Darkside

[Round 2: Rum Nitty]
This a real nigga party, right?
(YEEEEAH!)
Well who the fuck let him in?
Knowin' we cut from two different cloths, like a letterman
Let's begin
He gon' mention me Crippin', and I'ma bang the set on him
C so big it looks like a L.O.M.
Get X'd out over the flag; confederate
Gracefully die in style if I'm the one you take this L against (elegance)
A shell'll spit
I black, and push a nigga from the Darkside melon in (melanin)
After you get knocked down
The new 2K shot meter: it's a green light on Top now
When I pocket-checked Roc, you was back there actin' hostile
Like niggas was holdin' you back
Bitch, you could've got through ain't nobody stop you
Doin' all that for what?
You could've got to the front, and I would've dropped you
Real shit no rap

{the lights in the venue go out}

Real shit no rap, I can't change my mood
I might say we cool and I still might clap
Hand him five deuces, droppin' ya body over the bridge like that
I got the power to get you laked by a Hoover
Dam(n), I'm built like that!
If you don't got ya tool you lackin'
Where ever we go, the .4 is (for us) by us like FUBU fashion
Ya boss? Ya boss keep lettin' y'all die
Tell Tay to stop
I'll stomp you out
Step on Raw so much I don't think he gon' make it Roc
You know, when you step on the raw too much you can't make it rock
I be cleanin' off my .8 a lot
Jeff Hornacek free throw, I wipe it off 'fore I take a shot
We not playin'
The chops raisin'
Two K's (2K) shootin' like 97 over Raw (overall), that's Lebron ratin'
Fuckin' wit' the squad? Nobody safe
No let up gang, we do pull-ups, slide by where you stay
The Glock come off the waist
I caught him, he fell, lay Raw out on his face like Lady Gaga with the steak
I'll take ya body outta state, then I'm droppin' you off
Somewhere in STL
They'll never find you in the Lou', Raw (Rawls)
AP .9, I get close and bust it
You can't fade the nigga with the AP like Stoney brother
Fuck you!
Actin' like you'll blow the rifle
This nigga frontin'
I ain't hearin' nothin' like we blowin' trial
I might not got performance like you
But with these punches I'm the GOAT folk
Godfather logo, I hold the title
Them bitches we keep on 'em, in case they creep on us
Keep talkin', I'll off the piece and knock a piece off him
Have my Pitbulls feast on him
Chop him up, put Raw in the dog food, I'm speedballing
You can't keep it real yourself
(Nigga, suicide or I'll do the job, you decide
Kill yaself!)

[Round 2: Brizz Rawsteen]
It's like, when did it become cool to take a nigga whole-
Smack where did you get these faggots from?
When did it become cool to take a nigga's whole swag and run?
It's like nigga's styles was up in the air and you was just grabbin' 'em
You a punch lining Crip
You a Gun Line King
Your name is "Tay B Roc Magic Rum"
Remember B muhfuckin' Magic?
Well this is Rum muhfuckin' Nitty
Now that's sad for son
Tay Roc said he's the Gun Bar King
You came said you the "Gun Line King"
Oh, y'all ain't notice where he snatched it from?
Or y'all just actin' dumb?
But y'all let the bullshit slide, still clap for Rum
Like Champion, Tech-9, JayBlac and 'em
Nigga, you a fake fraudin' and they paid for it
Example: remember ya fake Jordans?
Well, it ain't really about ya jake Jordans
It's about how it take a fake nigga to pay for 'em
It's like a straight nigga caught in gay form
It's triflin' for real, how y'all don't see
If he never got caught, he'd still rock them like they was real
What's that shit about?
If he can't afford $200 Jordans, how he affordin' these guns he be rappin' about?
Just a couple things that I'm askin' about
Nigga this life, and you lame at it
You a dyke and a fame addict
You a bitch and it's strange faggot that you got other nigga's names tatted
They said, "Rum gettin' a big head."
I said, "Cool. It's easier when I aim at it."
Throw a flame at it
What Rum thinkin'?
I leave Rum leakin'
I have .45's 'round Rum's face like Rum Lincoln
I have Rum pourin' out in the gutter like, "Baby I promise I'm done drinkin'"
Bitch, they won't recover ya body
Told 'em I quit, but they know I stash Rum somewhere like a recovering alki
Blaow
Bullets over ya top hoverin' 'round it
Lethal Weapon ain't nothin' Danny Glover about it
Whatchu wanna do?
If niggas was guns, you'd be a .22
They said Rum was an animal, so I'm huntin' you
Another lyin' (lion) ass nigga again
With lines about these guns that's bigger than him
He got guns so big but in jeans so small, I just can't see how he be fittin' 'em in
I can't even focus
He got a gun so big, he can't even hold it
He got a hands free gun, shit, he don't even need to hold it
He got a gun from the future
You be dead befo' the shot and you ain't even know it
Nigga, the shit I'm airin' real
I brought the fifth for Rum, I'm stingy with the shots but I'm sharin' still (steel)
Now whatchu want? A big round in front of yo' chest like a steerin' wheel?
Or a big round put him in the sky like a Ferris Wheel?
You miniature so I figured the fo' or the arm could raise Rum like we givin' a toast
He buyin' bootleg fake shit, translation, niggas is broke
I know, you gon' put a price on Raw
You gon' chop brick up put the slice on Raw
You wanna someday fight Raw
No, no, no he gon' put the Smackdown and Monday Night Raw
Bitch, psych, nah
Shut the fuck up!
Eye frail
He a faggot, ask me how I can tell
(How?)
Well did y'all know that Rum is most famous for cock tales (cocktails)?
Cut the drama, Bahama Mama
I don't think you a shotta
You sweet as a straw stickin' out a pina colada
That's pink at the bottom
You a 5'4" little pinkish vagina
It's the Darkside of the Cave fucka
From the east coast to The Bay fucka
I get you killed for a big face hundred, if you wanna play games brotha
I came to see the lame
Don't know what goal he (goalie) tryin' to reach but I'm a have that shit kickin' like a FIFA game
Penny for ya thoughts

{Beasley calls time}

Damn. I ain't heard time get called all night.
I ain't heard time get called all night!
What the fuck is they doin', bruh?
Put this in ya fuckin' blog!

[Round 3: Rum Nitty]
Aye, this nigga gon' fuckin' cry line after line
But it still don't stop this nigga from dyin' time after time
Off top, they sayin' I'm the one with the super glow
But you knew Beasley, I'm dope, like Blue Magic
So for eight minutes I'ma do you greasy, this how God work
It could get a lot worse
And if you can't switch it up, I'll be a nigga you die vs (diverse)
He drop first
Still (steel) releasin' after he die like a 'Pac verse
Warnin' shot, get close when I did it
I do that, just to alarm a nigga, Don't Be A Menace
Niggas...
I make a bad scene, then the blade will cut tiger stripes through ya tee Raw, you won't last king
I'll get you shot, then you shot
See one point one mil'; Billy Boondocks
I give a fuck if ya squad live, I raise it you gone
Ravon Simone, it's no love for the dark side (Darkside)
Aye, let this hoe get crunk
Scope on the pole line up
Shootin' through the lens with tight eyes, make ya soul rise up
The deuce deuce make you sit down
Or the K with the wood stock (Woodstock), that's for a big crowd
Who want what?
You all fucked
Crazy how I just 2-1'd Surf, now I'm pursuing (pur-Tsu-ing) Raw bunch
Get you all touched
Watch the words you talk
Pull his cal' and fire
Give Brandon (brand in) iron
That's how you burn a mark
Squeeze off, aim for ya face and I shoot
This AR can Kaboom through ya cheek (Chic) Raw, I make it rain (Reign)
And he ain't the same after it ring like a maiden name, that's how I made a name
You said nigga, this MAC peel hollows
I cap off, you get caught in (cotton) the top, that's an Advil bottle
I only got you, cause ya patna be duckin'
I should let the Clips go off Top, that's a Charlie rebuttal
This the casket you earned, and this shit been over
And a coffin (coughin') come wit' it, like a cavity search
We not finna act
You'll get popped with the MAC
I'm talkin' fast, I'll rack somethin', at the drop of a hat
Tay Roc will get both the matics
Boy I brought, two birds for one stone like I'm multi-taskin'
Get the whole Cave slain
Run the blade, clean down the side of Ave like the chain gang
I'll murk him, it's only two shots in it
It's no third round in- Jersey

[Round 3: Brizz Rawsteen]
But you a sucka nigga
Cause you told the world somethin' you said a girl told you about another nigga
You a fuckin' loser
I swear to God, you put the "rum" in "rumor"
That's how I know you wack
And Ms. Hustle said she never told you that
This a figment ya mind created
See this guy been fakin'
Any nigga that'll name drop, lie, repeat a conversation
Will for damn sure sign a statement
I watched and waited
Plotted patient
'Til this day come with the fist taped up like a boxer trainin'
I gotta box his brain in
He a facade, but I'm not complainin'
A sober mind can see he's not this flamin'
But it's hard to see Rum for what it is when you intoxicated
This death knockin' baby
Why you think he bust a fool?
Bitch, when you sit down, I don't think ya feet touch the floor
You lettin' the lead flame
But when you takin' a shit ya legs swing
Quit playin' these head games
That fo' fire it's Ghost Rider, ya head flames
Nigga how you gon' prove to me that you shoot the heat
When yo' lil' ass need a booster seat for the food you eat
Ironic you be cookin' but you food to me
This a .762 vs. a .223 in FUBU jeans
And bitch, you ain't do no PG battles because before URL you did seven KOTD battles
Oh please, ya battled in Snoop Dogg's league when I was in the small league
You battled B Magic before Smack even called me
You battled Danny, T-Rex, O-Red and Ars', please, before y'all saw me
But we knew you was nothin' more than B Magic's offspring
I passed you, what does it all mean?
Punchlines and hard schemes don't equal star speed
It's Rawsteen, the crossbreed
I make it hot and roll up on y'all with long sleeves
What it is mayne
It ain't all about ya punchlines and flipped names
It ain't all about ya shells and the big gauge
You need presence, punches, charisma, all that shit that Brizz bring
I got it all, that's big range
Shit you do in a scrimmage don't work in the big game
And these all reasons you don't work on the big stage
I walk on water with God's weight
I ice skate on a cloud they bleed, I sky scrape
Whatchu did? A little crime and a trial date?
Bitch please, it was prolly for child rape
Nigga that's not what we meant when we told you, "stay in a child place"
This is child's play
You got left with the wrong pen
I got right with a strong pen
I got an I Am Sam retarded Sean Pen(n)
You ever seen I Am Sam?
It's a movie about a retard played by Sean Penn
Nigga, you can have a spot in battle rap, except but by the throne
Cause KOTD put you on and you left them guys alone
Them whiteboys let you in when you wasn't accepted by ya own
Gave you battles when Smack just left you by the phone
Where's your loyalty?
Where's your 4th Quarter team?
Soon as you got to URL on a New Yorker team
On the New Yorker scene you joined a New Yorker team
Homi, thought hew as 'Ready To Die' then found out it was all a dream
Fuck it, Darkside nigga