[Verse 1: Un Kasa]
Yo I hope this nigga’s ready now, if the camera’s on
Roscoe after this, yo ya’ man is gone
He a bitch, put his man in thongs and Jimmy Choo pumps
‘Cause personally this nigga’s a bitch and it’s fact, and he really do suck
Yeah I really moved up
From packs of crack to platinum plaque
I’ll show you where the action’s at I’m action-packed ya’ raps is wack
I’ll ride over you in my Murciélago ‘til the axle crack
You ask for that then after that
You gon’ ask why I run around with nines and .40’s
To body chumps, then throw ya’ body in the trunk, like Nas and N.O.R.E
I’m speaking the truth I’m squeezing the truth
It’s gon’ be more than ya’ project house with a leak in the roof
And after this Mook and Roscoe ain’t gon’ be speaking to you
And I’ll call you Z Rex, because I’m sleeping on you
[Verse 1: T Rex]
I’m a grown man, my own man and I squeeze the fifth
I body Un and leave him hanging in the freezer brick
And got Maine crying like ‘I can’t believe this shit
Rex I just brung him, now he laying on the cement stiff’
So when the eight’ll blast
It’s gon’ hit his chest, but his whole background gon’ be gone like we erased his past
I swear this Un nigga make me laugh
The hammer on me, you stunting and clueless like Stacey Dash
Ya’ death on my conscience is something I won’t hate to have
You gon’ die now, Keith Sweat couldn’t make it last
I was allergic to school, I used to shake in class
Daddy just died, and I shoulda been out making cash
In third grade they found razors in my Lakers bag
I’m a criminal, I learnt aiming playing laser tag
These hoes love me but dudes hate it when I appear
I don’t stop stunting, I keep shitting like diarrhea
The arm rocky, chains rocky, but by my ear
Frozen to go next to it you need hockey gear
I’m cocky yeah ‘cause my team is strong
Guns is working, my beams is on
Start respecting me, [?]
Watch Times Square I called it 42nd Street
I merc’ you where you earn on my chain, now you could rest in peace
You testing T what’s the reason dummy?
I use the pump like my breathing funny
Huh, you know I need the money
Been starving on the streets, it’s bummy
So I found a white broad that cook cheese, she like Kelly Bundy
Un respect the Rex man, we keep them mags on us
And we’ll push ya’ wig back like a bad barber
I wanted the TT, but the Jag’s harder
It’s half lemon fruit green pink slash guava
It’s nothing to catch a body but the plan is
To get away, without tossing the cannons
Dog, I hit ya’ block with big nickels of that tan shit
It was all butter like the popcorn damn shrimp
A couple slugs’ll make his van flip off the Van Wyck
They asking where the van went, it vanished
I’m a thug, I just happen to rhyme
[Verse 2: Un Kasa]
I’m the hell up in Harlem like Tommy Gibbs
I’ll show you what a shottie is
What a purple-color Maserati is
I’m the Bruno Magli kid
That’s known to get hot, from the Ducati twins and the teriyaki Benz
I got the watch with the meanest cuts
Might see me with the meanest sluts, blunts with the greenest guts
Cherry eyes when I steam the dutch
Talk slick ya’ whole team get touched
With all the beams and pumps
Why’s that my whole team is nuts
Porsche truck colored cream and pus
And the seats colored cream and plum
And my [?] colored cream and rum
Fuck ice the whole team is numb
I’ma spit ‘til ya’ demons come
I used to split cheese and crumbs
Now it’s 16’s, beats and drums
I got enough fire to heat the slums
Got a [?] got the razor got the quarter come and eat with us
[Verse 2: T Rex]
I’m sick of hearing this talking, you saying what weapon you gon’ aim
I keep mine clutch just like the last seconds of the game
Un, we don’t play around
So why shoot in the air? This gun I got it fuck around and bring a plane down
I run around, I ain’t tryna be fucked wit’
My mob deep and I ain’t talking who Prodigy fuck wit’
You try it you duck quick, I promise you buck prick
This nine’ll be tucked dick you in hospitals done stiff
If you front that’s when I’ma shoot you
Watch how I’ma do you I ain’t tryna Amadou you
I’ma put a rocket through you
Put you in the tub then stick a socket to you
That’s the real meaning of a nigga tryna sock it to you
Put you in hoe clothes and try to prostitute you
Take this man hood, then take his manhood
Listen, I’ll leave him under the ground
Matter fact where the cement at, I’ma put him under it now
I’ma tell you why ya’ name Un, you ain’t got no guns
So I’ma put you under the grave
Let me tell you something
Stop playing games with me
You gon’ keep on running and I’ma buck it, I be aiming the heat
You under order protections
Running under Rex, hanging under the Diplomats sucking dick
You ‘bout to be under cement
You playing with the wrong nigga now Un
You ain’t got, no guns, you ain’t got, no funds
I’m about to leave him under that
Where the ground at, I’ma leave him under that
He don’t want none of that
Keep on playing, I ain’t acting dog
I ain’t with the rapping dog
He keep fronting I’ma smack his glasses off
[Verse 3: Un Kasa]
Now who asked you?
Got beef, I’ma buck at you
Through a roof of a bug-eye coupe, colored Clorox blue
Chain, clothes, it’s all not you
It’s on at you, what you think, I’m some four-eyed fool?
Motherfucker this is all I do
Yo crowd he a small fry, I’ma fry him up I eat small frys too
Better yet he a turkey burger
So you know what that mean? I let a gun that’s the size of a turkey burn ya’
That’ll make you sloppy joe, even papi know
I got a 12-gauge Mossberg shottie flow
That’ll have everybody asking ‘where his body go?’
Like Geronimo, adios, vamanos
Go on ‘long shorty, go and play dominoes
I’m with the papi’s motherfucker, cooking chopping snow
Yo, I’m a buck-ass fool, I cut crack too
Dog who the fuck asked you, you bitch
[Verse 3: T Rex]
It’s a bunch of niggas getting money in this world that I’m tryna fix
Everybody ate except Rex and I acknowledged it
So with my four I ain’t hiring but I’m firing
Inf’ on it, so I hit everything, I ain’t tryna miss
I ain’t tryna pitch ‘cause the hustlers ain’t the same
Niggas snitching out here, the customers they done changed
I’ll put one in ya’ jugular and ya’ brains
And leave with everything, from ya’ truck to ya’ brick of ‘caine
Nigga my goons gotta blast, D-O-T hat and mask
Wit’ big guns, that’s two times what Dirty Harry had
Your shirt is used to catch the blood, it’s a maxi pad
Shit I’m off the meter, they just took me out a taxi cab
See I relax and laugh seeing Un actually gasp
‘Til I MAC his ass, like a bitch that I had to bag
This nigga mad ‘cause his car all crashed up
Going through the hood wit’ his front all smashed up
You see me I’m doing 60 in a Jag truck
Wit’ two broad splitting my pole like it ain’t bad luck
I had luck, but see battling ain’t cool
Rap’s wrestling, my flow’s “Ravishing” Rick Rude
I carry the big tool, got him holding his chest
Bleeding all on the floor ‘cause there’s a hole in his chest
Un, my Dot gang rush fast like the swat king
We real like Batman clothes, we will not change
Them hot thangs got him weaving ‘til the cops came
Then he start talking like a parakeet that’s not trained
So for my mozzarella doggie we could pop each other
I’ll have his heart with no beat; it went acapella
Rex mean, but when I put the Dots together
You could murder ya’ family and put ya’ whole block together
I had a hot Beretta but I had to cool it off
It’s like a Muslim fight, it’s gon’ knock his kufi off
I let the Uzi off, and shoot until this moolie off
You gon’ have a scar face and I don’t mean the movie dog
I do record, but I’m nothing like ya’ newest artist
You just a walking bull’s-eye, you a moving target
My car gets to 160 on the dash
It got a G-Unit clip, it shoot 50 at yo’ ass
[Verse 4: Un Kasa]
Yo you looking at the marijuan’, half-Megatron
Mixed with methadone, he gon’ call Farrokhan
I shoot shots in ya’ face ‘til ya’ head is gone
The guns, fatigues, my squad’s like Lebanon
Pies, cookies, cakes like Pepperidge Farm
I got work on me, I think I need a extra arm
Jackets, vests, gats all extra large
Ya’ team, ya’ squad, best to be extra hard
I got a 40 cal, it’ll rip ya’ chest apart
Come and test the god, I will put you next to God
Bang this shit, nod ya’ head, crash ya’ car
I know niggas that rep that five like that Astro star
You ain’t got, half my bars
You ain’t got half my scars motherfucker
I’ll have ya’ niggas duck in doors
And Roscoe he gon’ duck under cars motherfucker
[Verse 4: T Rex]
Listen, me, I only do this rap shit that’s for the clout and fame
That’s ‘cause I been running birds like the Falcons game
I got the picture just so I could shoot him out the frame
‘Cause these slugs gon’ make him jump around like House of Pain
My connect’s Colombian, I can’t pronounce his name
He help me box on my block, I go pound-for-pound with haze
So all that drastic talk, only get ya’ casket bought
Pop him while he falling pull his sleeve and take his jacket off
So on my own I just established the bonds
I’m well-respected, well-connected like Marion was
See the reason why I carry the snub
To leave him on the underground railroad, right where Harriet was
I’m a dog man, I carry the plugs
I gotta scratch, I can’t quit, I can’t bitch, Un, that’s in my blood
I got a shotgun built in my tub
So if you run in, while I’m wit’ ya’ woman, you catching a slug
He the type to get robbed in broad day, while his bitch was there
Before I take ya’ wallet and ya’ chain, I’ma fix her hair
Hoes think I’m cute but I’m ugly, we see through different mirrors
‘Cause my features and my attitude could show a different man
You wanna battle to win a name for yourself, I been had it
Diss T you dig a grave for yourself, I been clapping
Emcees should be ashamed for hisself
He just a bitch and a snitch without a name on his belt
I could get a lil’ kid to merc’ you
‘Cause your father’s a snitch, you was raised by a rat like a Ninja Turtle
[Verse 5: Un Kasa]
Did it dawn on you, that ya’ bitch digging me now?
She giving me things, while you locked in the penal
Yo she foul, the way she led you on
Talking ‘bout she’ll wait, but she glad you gone
You upstate locked down, doing ya’ bid
She doing sex wit’ ya’ man while she doing the kid
Yo I’m all in ya’ crib, stash and ya’ chips
Smashing ya’ bitch you supposed to get
While you beating ya’ dick I’m getting head in ya’ whip
She ain’t wanna tell ‘cause she scared you’ll flip
On who? Me or her? Her or me?
I’m a mill’ you a G you a gram I’m a key
And you fucking with me you better have a plan B
We real niggas, Dipset family
I make money, that’ll stop ya’ bank roll
Drop my earrings in ya’ drink make ya’ shit ice-cold you faggot
[Verse 5: T Rex]
Niggas don’t like me, ‘cause I'm not on my block and I’m fronting
I got one of them type of cars, took off the block wit’ the button
Niggas ain’t like me in my hood when I was plotting and fronting
But gimme three feet, I ain't reaching in these pockets for nuttin'
See me plotting diddy bopping as my enemies watch
Semi cocked wit’ many shots to take my enemy’s watch
Why hesitate? I’m one of them insane dudes that aim tools
Have you eating pissing shitting and sipping all through the same tube
Run wit’ me or run from me the main mood
The landlord of the block, know how many niggas I made move?
Jim, you know these gangs around my way
Thought my drugs was blood, ‘cause I stay on the strip wit’ nine treys
A crackhead bitch that’ll strip for nine treys
Now check it, I got the blood of a dinosaur nigga
I done came back, see I done died before nigga
I promise y'all niggas
Butter all in the gate I done climbed the wall nigga, it’s time for war nigga, no time to call niggas
See a hundred dudes surrounding y'all niggas wit’ rounds and raw triggers
All types of mines and gallons of war liquids
You got a meeting with death take your calendar off nigga
See, I was built with the talent to off niggas
You got your talent from talent your talent is off nigga
Once I got in the game you was bound to get crossed nigga
Put into bounds, fuck it you bound to get lost nigga
Wild in a Porsche nigga
They say that I remind them of Alan I boss niggas I’m styling of course nigga
I’m the only dude pop Cristal in the court nigga
I pass the judge a cup, take his gavel and walk nigga
I’m wilder than y’all niggas
I’m just being T so I’m violent to y'all niggas
Jim, I just want some moments of silence from y'all niggas
I'm sick of hearing all of this arrogant talk nigga
You running like the meters on cabs of New York nigga
I’m packing the four nigga, MAC or the four nigga, it’s actually on niggas
Man, look the beam is actually on niggas
I’m packing the MAC in the back of the Ac’ in the Ford, nigga
[Verse 6: Un Kasa]
Ayo Roscoe, everybody know you ain’t going to the Big 12, or the Final Four
‘Cause he run around pumping a punk-ass baby dinosaur
Y’all niggas should know, while you pop and eat pills, I hop in sweet wheels
I pop and squeeze steel, you’ll stop and be still
Y’all niggas ain’t real, you’s money you ass
I rep ya’ block, but ya’ money ain’t cash
I’m still on the block pumping that shit, stomping that shit
Niggas y’all gon’ start running and quick
We can jab all day, bring that ass all day
You seen me springing bricks on the ave all day
And the ave’s Broadway, aves and all yays
Bricks and [?], pump with more haze
And all that shit you spitting is old, you battled Lex wit’ it
Nah you a faggot nigga, you got a thong under them jeans, have sex wit’ it
Come and mess wit’ it
And if it wasn’t for your man holding you down I’d probably leave you with the TEC wetted
[Verse 6: T Rex]
Snitch on the Rex and try to go to witness protection
Un, ask the cops, there’s no way a witness protected
When I start aiming the Smith and this Wesson and point the shit in his section
45th gon’ run in different directions
‘Cause the Dots came to damage dudes
We put red dots on niggas like PlayStation analogs
Don’t make me dig up in my pants or drawers
Once that cannon drawn, it spit bullets that’s the size of cannonballs
But why run ‘cause you don’t know how far these cannons go
Once this cannon burst it turn a man into a cantaloupe
I can’t lie I can’t stand this nigga
‘Til there’s three in his frame like a family picture
And the Dots a whole camp of niggas
While ya’ real crew is just mildew, they some hamper niggas
Let’s get it on, when I aim the four
I bet you five these bullets fuck up the tracks on his train of thought
I’m the drunk Ali, now you know it though
‘Cause I found some strings on a boat of coke I called it the rope-a-dope
Any time that I aim the gat
It’s Bermuda Triangle retaliations, he never came back
So if Un want war I let the four blast him
So he could feel death coming like a orgasm
I can’t lie I got massive cake
I hit his block wit’ a Glock and a ashy face
So please don’t come at me K
Or forensics gon’ have to find him a body to match his face
Fuck the judge and perhaps a case
Any witness ever thought about the stand they had passed away
On the block I got raws and eighths
You probably thought I was a jeweller, I’m send him to the pearly gates
If this nigga want grams, ask for more than eight
I’m responsible for that rate down in Morgan State
Let me catch this nigga trying some shit
I’ma send him to the crossroads, but he ain’t driving a lick
You make a move then a nine’ll be grip
You gon’ go on a heaven vacation, ‘cause I think it’s time for a trip
All y’all rap niggas dive on my dick
‘Cause you seent me in the coupe no roof or that Impala with tints
See I’m a Dot soldier, I will pop fo’ ya’
Beef on the streets ask niggas, I get Glock: coma
[Verse 7: Un Kasa]
I don’t answer to nobody, I’m a motherfucking boss bitch
Keep talking you gon’ wonder where ya’ arms went
I shoot you in ya’ mouth it exit through ya’ armpit
Jump out pointing my Lorcin, like this my strip
And all them chains that you got, now that’s my shit
I’m a 645 you a motherfucking Sidekick
I’m [?] Cavalli, a nigga you should ride with
Pies flip nines spit yeah I’m on some live shit
You a groundhog nigga on some hide shit
I’m all day, got the gun, outside shit
What you know about Big Daddy Kane?
Alpo, Rich Porter, big daddy ‘caine
White Porsche, white seats, flip heavy ‘caine
Jump out, white sweats, big heavy chain
That’s Harlem motherfucker, shit never change
Rex keep fronting and I’ma put six in ya’ brain and I’m out
[Verse 7: T Rex]
When it’s war I handle things with my .44 mag
Un talk shit that just made my .44 mad
Now look, it was one nigga and 44 bags
Never cleant it, leave it dirty, treat my .44 bad
It’s a old school gun, I named by .44 [?]
I ain’t got it then fuck it, he getting 44 stabs
Last SMACK, he said he had 44 Jags
I asked him where they at, now he say the 44’s crashed
D-O-T blasting like 44 cabs
He had one stomach, now he gon’ have 44 abs
I’ma break his leg every time he take off his cast
Been in 44 jails, made up 44 [?]
Locked up 44 times, made 44 bails
Everybody wanna dribble, fuck is it 44 [?]?
Had 44 Glocks, gave him 44 shots
Came to the block then I got, 40 more Glocks
After that told Roscoe to give him 44 shots
After that I’ma put 20’s plus 40’s on the drop
Easy
Un Kasa vs. T Rex was written by Un Kasa & T-Rex (Battle Rapper).
Un Kasa vs. T Rex was produced by Smack White.