Cortez vs. Rum Nitty (Rematch)

[Round 1: Cortez]
I'm only here to do Rum dirty, tuck birdy, drum sturdy
Lunch break: one, 30 (1:30)
If I lose tonight then I'm tyin' the judges, it's a hung jury
I'm violatin', nah, I won't leave no space
You fool them with this Pacino face, but in ya heart we see Nino traits
I don't believe that he sold weight
Why? Cause you got Cort' (court) after Drugz?
That means you about to fold, this a RICO case
Me no play today, see he no safe
See I O.D. 'til I see you D.O.A
So start respectin' me
Boy, that first battle? You was talkin' recklessly
You won't be caught (beat Cort') twice
Tonight? It's double Jeopardy
The .45? Baow! Trajectory
It specialize at making Crips walk with an accessory
So fuck that 100K, respectfully, this 'bout legacy
Y'all asked for the T, so I'm steam, lettin' the lemon squeeze
Boy, the only blue faces I respect, are dead to me
Machete, slash his memory
Good for one hack, like Patrick Beverly
Boy, I had to play it calm
Bullets go behind ya back like we breakin' bonds
I turn up and blast it in his head like his favorite song
I've been catchin' bodies, y'all should catch the priors
After that Eazy battle they said, "'Tez retire."
I had an off season
And came back like J. Cole with goals to leave the 'net on fire
That's how you torch foes
There'll be yellow tape at your crossroads
White chalk, dark souls
Black TEC's, dark mode
Boy, I will smoke ya ashes to charcoal, that's how you earned (urned) death
Burst TEC's, burnt flesh
Trigger finger quicker than an A.I. first step

{Chokes}

What the fuck?
I'm chokin', it's a crazy session
Nah I'm bullshittin', that's just my Casey impression
I told niggas-

{Cortez ends the round on himself}

[Round 1: Rum Nitty]
I can't miss
I'm like Above The Rim when it comes to a name flip
And that's just something I live and die by Cort' (court) like my name's Flip
Dangerous, we don't play
I keep a razor that'll eat ya face
From ear to ear his cheek's fileted
I left Cort' (court) with a smile, cause my brother just beat the Case'
Every other Saturday, you've been cookin' fam'
But I knew as soon as I got to (w)rap in ya face, that'll be the weekend (Weeknd) that start lookin' bad
Pull a mag', shoot you wit' it
Barrel in his mouth, give him a moon roof ceiling
And blew his teeth clean out, like a Nunu visit
You think I'm trollin'? Bang it on him
Nina lickin', leave him crippled the way I'm finna make this Rican sitter think it over
I think it's over
That 100K, will go from motivation to a motive
30 popped him, no medics, just the Caffeine workers workin' on him
Applyin' pressure, inserting cotton
Bringing out the first aids on Cort' (court) like Irving Johnson
You heard me patna?
I'm real focused, fillin' bullets to the top, tryin' to see what the mil' holdin'
I just smoked Drugz, steel (still) loaded
I ain't tryin' to kill no one
I'm a family man, I don't think I'm 'Pac
But I'll squeeze a Glock to make it back to my kids, I'm the only thing they got
Then he heard a single pop
This ain't the best look
That dyke hoe that said you was better, will get her head whooped
I should've knocked yo' gay ass out Fit' (outfit) before I got to Cort' (court) like Westbrook
TEC cook
Get shot for real, got him killed
Now he can't even see his seeds grow Smack, fuck how papi feel (poppi field)
Dig a hole, you're gone now
Pole across yo' scalp
See it splat when the Rican crack like a dope house
You 'bout to get all type of bad
You won't see no kinda bag
What's another words for "tournament"?
A "tourny" (attorney) and Cort' (court) don't stand a fightin' chance
I'm finna smoke dawg, I told y'all
You know what'll really make this body over the top?
If I up the pole Vault (pole-vault)
No talk
.50 Cal', bullets whizzin' out goin' "Zoom, Zoom, Zoom"
That's all Cort' (court) hearin' now
You for real a clown
Aye you like puttin' yo' hands on women? I should clap you up
And let that bitch kick back, like J. Lo 'til you had enough

{Smack calls time}

[Round 2: Cortez]
Aye fuck that first battle and fuck that first round
Now I'm talkin' spicy, I'm more seasoned in the kitchen
Sofrito drippin'
Wait, I heard that y'all be Crippin'
When since Cort' on blue (cordon bleu) this time, I'm cookin' different for the chicken
Glock clickin', pot whippin', .30 will bang
Look stupid, bird in the brain
Rum spilled on the carpet, that's a permanent stain
Ayo, matter of fact, hold on, they sayin' that the cops here?
We don't give a fuck about that shit
Boy if you there, we gon' pop there

{stumbles}

Boy if you there, we gon' pop there
I chop 'em up, sell him limbs on black market, that's a profit share
Fuck the Mexican talk too, caught somethin' bigger than taco here
And when the stock drop you'll do more than drop tier
What's poppin'? Yeah!
I told these nigga, "I don't wanna battle."
I sold guns from Cali to Queens nigga, these hollows gonna travel
Baow, and now you gargle on a capsule
You went from the top of the app Nitty, to the bottom of my barrel
I blast a Hawk
Rewatchin' Nitty ass get chalked
They'll be no future in you, those are my after thoughts
You don't ring bells, you never made it past the porch
In my hood? Ain't no gold medals but every other day I had to past the torch
So I keep a lil' piece
Will squeeze if I have to hear a Lil' Peep
Drill piece, steal his car; Lil' Reese
It's lit bro, that 100 round drum, let a clip go
I'll put the whole stock in his Crip tho (crypto)
It's currency Nitty, and I heard about the cash you makin'
In his crib, no mask, I'm vaccinated
Pistol whip, head crack, crack ya brain in
You'll run down Cort' (court)? Leave his basket hangin'
[?] Team Homi, oh that's your defense slime?
Swave sent the drop, I know where to catch slime
Stretch .9
You don't get it, Magneto helmet, I'm made to protect mines (minds)
Look Rum, random bars won't work, respect mines
When you talkin' to the plug, we need direct lines
I'm blazin' the lead
That fuckin' 100K's the only thing that plays in my head
It's bodega, it's only right this cat gettin' laid over bread
I was fed, y'all disrespected, now I'm catchin' a fury
Cause like a bag full of percies, I started handin' out 30's
UM3, round 3, oh now y'all follow my journey?
Once Smack signed off Cort' (court), showed the power of a tourney (attorney)
I'm bangin' early, yeah it's a tragic thing if I clap the thing, the 'matic ring
First a Blood, now a Crip, they crown this Latin, King
I'll white flag ya team, Nitty soul get levitated
Once the casket close Nit' (knit) family; separated!
I'm in ya hood, and I got metal to grip
It's a clean 30, that's a gentleman's clip
And it back Cort' (court) in Phoenix like Devin and Chris

{Smack calls time}

[Round 2: Rum Nitty]
Aye real talk though my nigga
Who be helpin' you write?
Cause when you said that one line...I'm lyin', you ain't said nothin' that's nice
This shit is over
I'ma lift it on him, no mask
Show up bare (bear) faced on Cort' (court) like the Grizzly's logo
I'm on a mission solo, waitin' outside ya crib for you
Cort'll get clipped, soon as he come out that bitch; umbilical
Pop the trunk, you gonna get in too, there's plenty room
Even that hoe (whole) Fit can go wit' Cortez, it's a Dickie suit
You that nigga too
But that Shotgun ain't got no respect for a legend
{gun clicks}
And this is Proof
Nigga move
I need that 100, and ain't no Mission Impossible
So my logic is, if you gotta eat then (Ethan) Hunt somethin'
Who the fuck want it?
I'll pull it out and stretch him, squeeze and buck
Now the Rican's struck (reconstruct), now they tryin' to put you back together
Replace part of your skull or you dead
So you can imagine yo'self winnin' that money, but that place (plates) all in ya head
Fam' done
I'll hit him in the Cadillac truck, he can't run
Drag him, big ass Escalade on Cort' (court) like And 1
And what?!
You can try and punch wit' me, that's your choice
But the skill gap is about here in (hearing) range, we on two different frequencies
And I know that hurts (hertz) more
War lord
Literally, this shit is over Cort' (court), check the scoreboard
After dawg get stretched, I'll take all the money and jewelry off his neck
I left Cort' (court) in the street without a dime...like Delonte West
On the set
Aye, you better help ya homie this time
Cause we came in this bitch with like eight .45's (8:45)
But I'm finna show Cort the (quarter) .9 (9:00)
You get outta line? Then this boy done
Just give me his second half, I'm finna zip Cort' up
And I get done shankin' Mr. Spanish, I'ma tell him "send your (senor) cut"
Aye, I give a fuck if they show love to me when I do rappin'
My nigga, we had to pull the plug on our own mama cause she was unresponsive
I kept talkin', and that's the only time I needed a reaction
That shit left me broken too
Literally, broke in two
She left $100,000 in life insurance but that couldn't close my wounds
I ain't even want it!
She died for us to get that money
Now so will you!
Load the tool, trip and you gon' die
You from Brooklyn? You really from the Stuy' (stye)?
But the pain is different in my eyes
On God

[Round 3: Cortez]
Ayo a .9 pop, brains everywhere when I pop
I even got blood on the Rollie, you just died on my watch
We slide ops, blast you
In Brooklyn, we don't drive quarts, we drive past you
I'm cravin' the case and we known for sliders like White Castle
I told niggas, yo Smack, you don't about none of these niggas
Cause you put 100K on the head of every one of these niggas
I'll do the job, work for hire
Easy fee, by myself, I scam alone, no PPP
So go ahead and talk stupid, my dawg shooters, raw/ruthless
Beanie Siegel, State Property, final scene; Cort' (court) shootin'
I chalk students, I hate y'all, in my face God
It's fake y'all, Jake Paul
After this there won't be no more cap after this after we faceoff
I hate y'all
I'm made inside, I'm the Undertaker out the casket, I'm back alive
Pistol whip, Louieville Slugger, crack ya mind
And they will never look at you again once I bat an eye
Told you nigga, that's facts
Nitty all you do is clap MACs
I'm different, off that Bacardi Rum we back caps
Yeah boy, ya roof get splattered, then the tool I splatter
12 leave 'em dead, who the fuck said, "these Blue Lives Matter"?
I sold a shit load of hammers, I put it all in the bricks
The work literally cost me a grip
I'm talkin' on yo' strip in yo' hood, I was trappin'/schemin'
You had traps in AZ Nitty? I haven't seen it
You was in the game 6?
Well, before Jordan I was winnin' with packs in (Paxson) Phoenix
And I peep it, the sneak shit
Uh huh, I'm onto they ass
You and Geechi? Y'all splittin'? Y'all goin' half?
EMS pick 'em up when I split 'em, both in halves
Word

[Round 3: Rum Nitty]
Aye! There's no half assin' or back trackin'
Just clap at him
Revolver hold six, but only three of the rounds blew (blue) like an App battle
I'm that badder
Nigga you can't see? This the nigga you can't beat
This is like the third time fire on Cort' (court) I'm on a 2K streak
Elite
I'm finna go on a run, I told you he done
You'll get left
I'll displace you Cortez, it can only be one
If I go to the trunk, this bitch gon' learn, it's my word
Grip it firm, hit up Ern' (Ernest)
Bury the murder weapon
Planting (plant in) the spring feel (Springfield) like Mr. Burns
Kill confirmed
I'll pull up on this man's set like, "Who want funk?"
Dum dum in his shotgun like a crash test
Leave fam' stretched
We be wildin' and you not a problem like an abscess
I'm past that, I don't gotta kill niggas
For a couple racks they gon' deal wit' 'em
I just pay 'em like a G M.O. (GMO), and that ain't even no real chicken
Still spinnin', I let it air
Fuck a drive-by, I'll hop out the Cherokee on foot like the Trail Of Tears
Let's be clear
Before this was goin' down
You knew you would lose before this was goin' down
What's goin' down?
You don't wanna live or you just gave it up?
And became a donor now
Load the cal' if dawg want it
I'ma rob niggas like, "Give it all nigga."
Or I pull a MAC's and force Cortez, I put the fear of God in him
My nigga!
This shit is a wrap
All them plates you been gettin' from Smack
And as we can see, Cor' done ate (coordinate) a lot, but this still ain't a match
Facts!
Me run out of punches, that's somethin' you won't ever see
After all this time, I still be surprised at my gift, cause I never peaked (peeked)
Let me eat
.40 shoot near
Unload the blue steel
I give a fuck what you got under that tee ese (TSA), it's goin' through clear
For real!
Aye, I gotta keep workin' I can't lose
Just like your government, I'm still out here earnin' (Ern' in) my name too
Thang shoot, murk 'em bad
Body in the furnace since you've been tryin' to reach Surf so bad
Now we can finally see Ern' (urn) and ash
You trash
Just a nigga that I gotta drop
Before they stop the clock, I gotta make sure every punch count; it's Com-U-Box
And that's a lot
You know I'll do you bad
You can't catch a break?
You either gon' have to change what you wrote or throw away the pad
We can crash
This ain't it Cortez
You fat, sloppy, body bitch
The fans say they miss fit (Ms. Fit) Cortez
Bitch