T-Top vs. Holmzie Da God

[Round 1: T-Top]
T-Top vers’ Holmzie Da God…aw, shit
This gotta be the most pointless event that we all did
As a member of the battle rap community, we’d rather step in some dog shit
Ain’t nobody wanna see this battle, but God did
Fuck your baby moms and your Mook angle!
It’s a ‘K and Glock when I do flame you
And they both got kickback like horses, but I’m just too stable
In grade school, I had a 8-ball jacket, sat at the cool table
Then my nigga formed an 8-ball habit, it gave him mood changes
I’m too dangerous
I was always known as a class clown
I even told Your Honor, “Only God can judge me”
And look where I’m at now
It’s a damn shame
Stop lying about your damn gang
Bitch, you’re not evеn a Loud (allowed): this a man cave!
Y’all want that old T-Top, right?
Yeah, I’ll tеll y’all when I used to weigh the kilos
Talk about that freebase and rio
But that’s somethin’ I gotta take wit’ ease, though
That’s like givin’ the DEA a free throw
Y’all all want me to talk about my Money Mitch days until I gotta face a RICO
So I stopped talkin’ ‘bout drugs ‘cause y’all be snitchin’ to the higher-ups
They sound too close to the police like a firetruck
I’ll re-tire Marquis in minutes: I got the Midas touch!
But y’all wanted Lite (light) Work on Holmz’ (homes)
Well, now I’m wired up
Fuck Holmzie Da God!
I’ll send Holmzie to God!
He ain’t jealous, just sittin’ across from Envy like Holmz’ C Tha God!
If I scream, “Good Times!”, that just mean your father’s gonna die
Then turn Holmz’ (homes) to a deluxe apartment in the sky
Damn, damn…damn it, your mother’s a cunt
Wayans Bros.: I had my grams stuffed under the bus
And let Marquis argue wit’ the .50
It ain’t got nothin’ to do wit’ $6,700 a month

[Round 1: Holmzie Da God]
And that’s why I get to talkin’ ‘bout ‘caine (Cain) so much, ‘cause I was able (Abel)
Wit’ the bullshit, too
We was really out here spinnin’ blocks, Top, it’s like a dreidel
I put baking soda in fishscale
So as far as the purity, you really can’t affect it
Really puttin’ somethin’ clean in the cut like antiseptic!
If I even felt like a nigga tried me, he lost his life
‘Cause disrespect, I can’t accept it
All I’m sayin’ is if he thought about it, shit was gon’ happen like he’d manifest it!
I prey on the niggas y’all pray to, but the God don’t do forgiveness
LLC, Escorp - I’m with a lot of different business
Y’all be thinkin’ I’m pussy ‘cause I’m depressed
Here’s where the plot begin to thicken
Nah, second time-
Last time I was upset, I did go away to find my peace…
Then came back and SHOT a nigga wit’ it!
The Glock’ll get to spittin’!
I don’t like to play around wit’ you chumps
Kill you, then toss you in a landfill
I’m depressed, but your body gon’ be down in the dumps
They’re like, “Holmzie ain’t have no intro”
Nope. I was cookin’ from the start. Why?
These 90-second rounds
I couldn’t waste a sentence, not even a (Aye) Verb
‘Cause they ain’t book me for a long time
I’m supposed to believe that you know what a Glock is about?
When you ain’t do shit but tuck tail when your man got socked in the mouth?
Pillow-talker! You get on stage and let the gossip come out
He ain’t shootin’ lead, he Superhead
Everybody in this industry know what Top is about!
Prep made a bogus group text, and included both us, in fact
Your angles is the same shit
‘Cause I know it’s gonna be somethin’ fake whenever this ho nigga chat
Right now, I’m smokin’ a pack
And they gon’ show you what your life worth
EK did you filthy at BANNED, so I know you can’t handle Lite (light) Work
Round

[T-Top]
Still got- you still got time left

[Round 2: T-Top]
You right! You w-
You ready, JB?

[JB]
On my count!
3! 2!...

[T-Top]
Nigga, you talkin’ ‘bout your step-pops had to beat you wit’ a 2x4
And wished your mother never had the kids
Well, I’m glad he did…
Bitch, I’ll beat you wit’ a stick and remind you of what your daddy did
Tragic shit
You sayin’ yo’ pockets fatter? That’s a lie
It ain’t gon’ matter when you die
They find Holmz’ (homes) in the trunk like a treehouse
It all started wit’ a ladder on the side
Don’t talk about my last matches!
How T-Top was a NOME body
Yeah, that last bitch tried to take me out
But this time, I caught a Holm’ body (homebody)
The chrome firin’, or I got a bomb that I could detonate
They gotta make a GoFundMe for God: that’s a collection plate
If you gotta let your Dezzi spray, don’t hesitate!
Hold your weapon straight!
I’m just tryna pull a man outta Holmz’ (homes) like Section 8!
BITCH! Bitch! Bitch!
Let’s set the record straight
I understand how you rollin’ with Loud
But lemme catch that nigga Bonus around
He still owe me for pounds
If I see him, I’m throwin’ a BOW!
And it’s all over a plate like Golden Corral!
A real trapper!
I’m a real trapper!
I told my bitch to take my ki’s to the car
She came like, “Bae, first I need the keys to the-”
You feel me!?
You’ll get shot in your face tho’
Tell him “Hasta luego”
Ain’t a bitch ‘Try Me’ since DeJ Loaf
19, .45, like I’m robbin’ a stagecoach
I got two clips inside of the play clothes
And these bitches peel (pill) together, like Cosby and Quaaludes!
Bitch! This is not for debate, tho
I’ll punch Holmz’ in his mouth until all teeth come out
He gotta collect them one by one…
It’s the small things that count!
Concrete

[Arsonal]
WHAT!? NIGGA!

(*A bunch of battle rappers in attendance - and URL co-founder Smack White - start yelling T-Top’s “Bitch!” ad-lib to voice their approval for T-Top’s round*)

[Arsonal]
Let’s go! Jersey, nigga!

[T-Top]
He from South Jersey
Don’t shout him out

[JB]
(*laughs*)
Alright! On my count…
3!...2!...

[Round 2: Holmzie Da God]
I’m from South Jersey and can be out in Carolina comfortable!
I don’t even need a Glock wit’ me
Bitch, you are built terrible
You know what’ll happen if we box, Bizzy?
He tried to run, but I chased him down wit’ a full schedule
You know…got Bizzy (busy)
On second hand, the schedule just cleared up…knot Bizzy (not busy)!
I’ll stomp Bizzy ‘til it look like this shit was never fair!
This ass-whippin’ gon’ get mystical (Mystikal)!
If you see me and the Bear fightin’, you better help the Bear!
I keep a shotgun for insurance, but the glizzy for static!
He tried to run down
You think you gon’ rush (h)ours!?
That’s cool…until we get Bizzy (busy) in traffic
He tried to peel off in a bullshit car, ain’t realize the drop was stolen
I’m on his heels, though, in a Hellcat, comfortably: I’ll Dr. Scholl’s him
Glock hangin’ out the window! I get to dumpin’ and cannot control it!
Nigga got away…
Well, we gon’ spin the block like Jenga…
And knock this whole shit down soon as Top pull (topple) over!
I heard you got a Haymaker deal
Cannabis? That’s what’s up
It’s only gon’ get you robbed, player
‘Cause y’all know what go perfectly with weed? Top paper!
They like, “Name flip after name flip…Holmzie, will that shit stop!?”
Nope, and you gon’ think I’m battling in a whole different language the way I flip Top (FlipTop)!
Grip mops! You ever seen 30 shells spittin’ out one Glock?
Well, I did, and I got faith in every single one of these bullets
So don’t be surprised when these bitches come out on Top
Y’all talk street shit wit’ no receipts
Niggas don’t know about no block shit!
My first encounter wit’ coke was Parappa The Rapper
Just me, my dog, and a onion, learnin’ how to chop shit
I pop shit ‘cause I live it
You niggas don’t know what my business is
I done gave them crackers essays
On paper, I got, like, five sentences!
I’m wit’ this shit! I’ll be talkin’ ‘til the Sun will go down!
You can’t even talk to me about hoes!
I get more bitches than one of your rounds

[Eazy The Block Captain]
1-1! Is it 1-1?

[T-Top]
No, it’s not!
No, it’s not! Your man down, like, 20-love
I ain’t- I’mma keep it funky! Your man down, like, 20-love
And I love you, Eazy!
I love him, I love you!
He’s down a 20-piece
It’s a 20-ball
(*Holmzie chuckles at this back-and-forth*)
It’s a 20-ball

[JB]
On my COUNT!

[T-Top]
It’s a 20-ball!

[JB]
On my COUNT!
On my COUNT! (x2)
3!...2!...

[Round 3: T-Top]
I was reading Matthew 27, and how God let the Devil lock Him up in a cage
I thought about how Smack got yo’ career boxed in, and said “That’s one and the same.”
I mean, your daddy call you “Marquis”, nigga
When the fuck did God get a government name?
I bet your mother’s ashamed
You won 25 thousand in a tournament, then nothin’ had changed
That shit ain’t even move you up in the ranks
Ay, Smack, you know what I think?
As the father of this Culture, you shoulda let ‘em abort this bitch
‘Cause now he on some spoiled shit
You got your whole mid-tier class runnin’ around
I’m comin’ to kill all the kids
Apparently that’s where they group Holmz’ (homes), and I always had an orphan itch (orphanage)
Yeah, I’m on you, bitch!
I put my blood, sweat, and soul in this
I brought everything I had to this room - I’m like a hoarder’s shit!
Ay, who ordered this?
Smack knew better than to call my phone
He was putin’ me in trailers before you was even mobile, Holmz’ (homes)
You got a bird chest!
We ain’t never seen no bitches ‘round Holmz’!
A bird’s nest: all we see is sticks around Holmz’ (homes)!
Huh?…Concrete, nigga

[JB]
On my count…
3!...2!...

[Round 3: Holmzie Da God]
This gotta be about status
‘Cause as far as talent, you can’t do nothing wit’ me
You ‘bout to get beat wit’ no problem
I’m talkin’ ran by easy (Eazy) like Gutta City
You niggas’ street stories be fake
And y’all gon’ have to start bringing your documents up
I’m a Jersey nigga that left Bordentown unharmed
It ain’t gon’ get no reaction, but Ars’ and Suge know that mean a lot where I’m from
(*Camera quickly cuts to Arsonal saying “That’s a fact”*)
Now I ain’t glorifyin’ jail shit, ‘cause that was never the spot. cuz
But how we gon’ trust a nigga that been rappin’ ‘bout drugs, on TV last ten years, and never been locked up?
You pussy!
If you made it to gen’ pop, you’d probably snitch soon as you seen who’s in it
He won’t even need a felony
Probably a smaller case make T look different!
Ay, Smack! And Beas’
Why the fuck you don’t be booking me like that?
‘Cause niggas’ favorite answer is, “Well, Holmzie, we know you can rap, but all you gotta do is push the narrative. Stir up-“
We supposed to be street niggas!
And I’M gettin’ penalized ‘cause I don’t know how to act!?
They startin’ to put entertainment over the essence, and that’s the problem
I ain’t even mad at you niggas…just fed up with you, like Jeffrey Dahmer
I really sent a bitch on the road for 125 grand!
Told her to make it hasty, no delay
I went to bed that night and dreamt of fish, ‘cause I knew I had a baby on the way!
After this, niggas gon’ have to give me the biggest bag they’ll ever get!
And YOU gon’ have to hold me in HIGH regards!
I mean, the highest, Top, like Mount Everest!
It’s evident, they gon’ be using this shit as evidence
I’m elegant, that’s why I’m who you taking this L against
I’ll sever this, saying the cause of death, it was severance
Beretta spit - Dat! Dat! Dat! - a speech impediment!
You’ll never get, someone telling you that you better than
Sold crack riding my bike: that’s drug pedaling
(*Holmzie gets time called on him*)
Last era with gun bars, yo, we were selling it
White coke, three-ring-

[T-Top]
Your time went over (*cackles*)