Gee Baby, Ain't i good to you

[Round 1: Math Hoffa] Now he gon talk about my battles, all classics by the way And probably try to say I ain’t win em, all right, okay He gon talk about the videos he seen on Worldstar and shit Probably got my government name out of some Harlem bitch My name Math, some number schemes, he gon spit a few And I’ll be like “That’s so original and unpredictable!” He might bring up the Dose battle, where we got the brawling out If that’s what it takes to win, y’all might as well wheel my coffin out ‘Cause as far as his career, there really ain’t much to talk about Until now Now a verb is an action word If that refers to you then homie, that’s absurd ‘Cause when you came to New York for Ill’s match with Surf You did some shit that showed me that you lack the nerve I seen Verb at the last battle, face nervous He said “Math, they search you? ‘Cause they ain’t search us Some shit go down in here, it’s gon be straight murders ‘Cause you BK niggas even take burners to a wake service!” I had two bangers on me, that’s how ya man roll I’m Rambo, my hand go *motions stabbing movement* Somebody Van Gogh I said “damn bro, hold this one, you owe me one” He looked down at the blade like I passed his ass a smoking gun! He passed it back to me then he said some foolishness Talkin ‘bout “Nah, I’m good Math, I wouldn’t even know what to do with it” Am I lying my nigga? I played it cool like, “Let me get that nigga” But in my head, I’m like ”this sucka ass, bitch ass nigga!” So how can I believe anything that this guy say? He pussy, nigga wouldn’t back out in a driveway Won’t cross the line to exit on the highway He steal, he don’t kill, he Ezel from Friday So how he gon stand up to the type of shit I say? Like if Verb want the beef? Drive-by, we’re dumping nines He try to run, jump the curb, bow! *crack* crush his spine Hop out, stomp him in the face for tryna fuck with mine Then grab his phone and text “Yéle Haiti” 500 times Your real name’s Chaz Duncan! That just says “I’ve never done a crime!” He’s sweet and moist, we should call him Chaz Duncan Hines He claim the streets love him, but when you ask for dog He like women’s basketball, they hardly ever see Duncan (dunking) Hold up, shotgun’ll make him fold up Big hole, no guts, that’s a Duncan (Dunkin’) Donut This nigga Aye Verb is a clown I call him Chaz just to turn a (Aye) verb to a noun Once I knock the Verb out, then Aye’s knees will be buckling ‘Cause Aye becomes Gaye (gay) when a G is in front of him You ain’t nothing real, you hardly say something ill Call yourself Captain Marketable, that’s so gay, you starving for a fucking deal This battle is like Jay-Z vs. Jada Smith ‘Cause I will not lose, but you fucking Will You just aight Chaz, you never gon reach the top This nigga think he a winner just because he beat his meat a lot Y’all remember he told Hollow? “If you try that Math Hoffa shit, swing, he gon weave the shot “And these people gon give you the same treatment that Jesus” — STOP! Nigga please, you see the type of reach I got? You can’t weave my speed, you gon spit a couple teeth and drop Your peoples, they gon leave the spot, then in a couple weeks this twat Gon wake up out his coma with the same beard that Jesus got [Round 1: Aye Verb] Aye Verb vs. Math Hoffa, I ain’t glad, I’m mad, potna Y’all threw me in the ring with y’all battle rap bully? Mr. “Jab Proper?” A nigga that sucker-punched an 125-pound man and didn’t drop him? That’s obnoxious, why y’all treat him like he Batman like the battle world is, Gotham? That’s why he got that chip on his shoulder stuck like a shotgun But there’s one problem: real niggas never get accused of fucking with fags, Hoffa Let’s break you down, lyrically you ave, Hoffa But you funny as a motherfucker, you make niggas laugh, Hoffa ?? I will homie-don’t-play-that sock this clown, the padlocks in it Undercover rapper slash copper I tell my niggas to shoot, you tell and get my shooters locked up I’m going after gold with Mook, why in the fuck should I chase copper? He swing on me, I swing back but I’m waving that damn chopper Shots pop him, he in the hospital propped up Shit bag, small TV, soap operas, Jell-o cups, nurses, doctors Them rappers you punked, we’re not them and they’re not us Tonight, your voice get out the pocket, just one octave I’ma show you how I’ll do Math: reach in my pants, gun by my abs, cock it Blast and knock a fraction of his chest away, now y’all looking at half Hoffa It’s something strange about you dirty, I ain’t saying you ain’t real But I sit around gangstas all the time back home and Hoffa you just, you just don’t get me that same deal Type of nigga, broad day, Timberlands, “Math Hoffa! Brooklyn! Night time, it’s half top like “Hey, poppa, I’m Brooke Lynn!” Down low brother, when that round blow, brother You better take cover and get down low, brother Niggas acting like his dad’s great Till you see Verb in all black, shotgun with that kick that boom! Sound like a 808 Go ahead nigga, start a few, I’ll murk all you fools I quarterback my team, I move when I tell em, it’s like a audible Math get home before me, get the shinin, I want all them jewels Huddle up with my linemen and tell em, “Hit that nigga and take that shit” just like a toilet stool Don’t get gassed Math ‘cause I got this killer look Like I won’t wet that windshield, hop out, put that pump in your side and squeeze just like a Fill’er-up This nigga’s nuts, I told you Smack, I’ma run through these rappers Y’all threw a antelope in front of a raptor If you’re static, I come get all y’all, it’s the rapture Fuck what he believe in, Baptist, Christian, or Catholic That bell ring and Verb standing here, he needs a casket ‘Cause the whole match-up is bad biz Y’all know how you order something and the bubble paper around the package? Well to me, that’s what Math is! This nigga’s ass, I’ll chew his ass as is ?? Everybody know you there but we ain’t listening for you, you a motherfucking ad lib [Round 2: Math Hoffa] Before I start this second round, there’s some shit I gotta handle Gotta give a nigga light before pissing out his candle Genero’s a snitch and he run around Flatbush A rat tryna rat, nigga need to get his cap (pushed) I could’ve called all the goons that I’ve got up in the black book But since I’m on a stage where everybody in rap look You ducked six months to get my man seven years Deal money, stacks to the lawyer just to get him clear You should’ve sat in that damn cell Snitching on fam, that’s Lady Gaga’s gender - I can’t tell But now that the hood know everything that I know Where you gon hide, ho? Faggot nigga, die slow I ride though, .45, five for 5-0 The other two I dump in you right before the swine’s show Verb see the iron, his eyes grow, he cry no Hope for Blanks but no thanks, I don’t fuck with Tae Bo I’m a man, you under apes, you something snake I could tell by that Ice blog that you fuck with Jake You was pointing out every hammer like “another case, another case” Your own man don’t even trust you that’s why your mouth got that rubber taste Somebody get this faggot out my fucking face! Takeover? Ask the people if they believe you All you’ll hear is “nah’s” (Nas), I’ll torture your soul with Ether Chaz think he the king, who know you? Llama up off the buckle Nobody move a muscle, you bout to lose a couple My brothers pull cards, we don’t do the shuffle Your brothers run, dog, y’all a crew of Russell’s And now I’m dominating, I pull a long eight These bitches gon perform a dog race with me commentating “Yuuuung Ill went off the first step, he takes the lead Verb hot on his heels, Hitman building speed Ill seems to have stumbled, falling, hurt his arm Hitman is — ooooh! Hit by a Suzuki, ladies and gentlemen, Verb is gone! He’s gone!” First place, let me give you the medal He told his ice cube to take a trip to the devils He think he off the chain, he just missing the pedals You on a plain, I’m on a plane, this isn’t your level You the devil in the flesh, no, I’m the devil at his best bro I’ll make this Midwest ho face metal like he Destro Verb sending threats so I hit the Greyhound with a trey pound The handle taped round all the way down Stake out his crib, he take his kids to the playground I’m on the bench with a newspaper, my face down He say “it’s time to go,” they say “we wanna stay!” bow! “I gotta go to the hairdresser, I ain’t got time to play ‘round!” They all start to break down, I run up, peel daddy wig And tell them “be happy kids, at least you get to stay now” Play awhile, leave the park in a few Take him down to the slave trader, make him marketable Two? That ain’t enough for me, crucify this fuck for free I ain’t a Christian Verb, so a cross to you is a plus for me Hold on, I ain’t done yet, sunset, I’m at his mother’s door With two pits playing tug of war with her fucking jaw! You want a war, Verb? I’m Mark fucking Walberg Shoot a pistol until your medulla’s on the wall, Verb You’ll never put a hole in one without the balls, Verb I ghost busters (Ghostbusters), who you gonna call, Verb? Those busters? I’ll Dose those busters Open casket, no clothes, .44 on those busters No eyes and no nose, oh no those busters Spray their heads, leave them dripping, soul glow those busters! Verb was in the nail salon getting a pedicure Talking to Liang, he said “Liang, I must confess to you I’ve got a battle coming with Math, tell the truth, he is incredible I seen him a couple of times, I’m having dreams of him doing something detestable Third round, he pulls a bag, a Hefty probably with a heavy shotty ”Next thing I know I left my body, he shot me in front of everybody!” Your body falls, splat, everybody fall back I run up on the camera, bust the shotty off and go “SMACK!” Pow! You’re done Verb, you can’t utter one word Your thought patterns scatter, last thought you had, “Oh, I’m scurred” Pow! Replay, welcome to your d-day This battle’s a couple weeks late, pardon for the delay I had a Tyrannosaurus cheesecake that didn’t go with meat great [Round 2: Aye Verb] Now we just heard all them jokes, and watched you just play mad mobster But the fact still remains, real niggas never get accused of fucking with fags, Hoffa I ain’t feel comfortable when I walked in here, ass watcher Ey fellas, this room get packed, he gon get a grab, watch him Old aggressive ass punk, go in the bar, see a nigga he want, spot him, throw a drink at him Dude get mad, Math jab him, grab him, pull him chest to chest like he finna slam him And then wink at him I gotta turn URL to Mortal Kombat 6 ‘Cause y’all playing flag football, St. Louis? We on that contact shit Before a battle, Math be in the mirror, making sure his eye contacts fit You a fucking fanboy I’m scared to make eye contact with Far as your squad? Niggas nice, Hollow and Con, that’s it Prob? Yeah, I bomb that fist and palm that fifth, you better calm that shit Heard about where you from, Math, y’all produce the kind that snitch I’ll show up on his block like “who’s sayin?” (Hussein) then Saddam that bitch Killer piranha in the ocean yeah, I’m that fish I’m nice hard, this as deep as y’all wanna get? I can swim through Math with anchors on my ankles, no lifeguard I can make your life hard, you write light bars, I write light “ah’s” Strike pause, when you battled Solomon, you was getting killed, you had to play the white card You battled Rex, you was getting killed, you said he was a Mike fraud I wasn’t even gon take you, niggas don’t take you serious, Ill said “do it,” I said “you right, dog” I’ma put all your little stripes under my wing, yeah, use your little record like Right Guard Speaking of records, Math said he should’ve been had a deal, he spit that hot lava Question: Who’s gonna open a budget for you, buddy? You have the image of a truck driver I ain’t tryna hear all that superstar shit that he be talking Kids be riding with their parents, see Math, hang out the window and go “EHHNG EHHNG” and he don’t even be driving, he be walking Acting like your team is sick, dog, your team ain’t shit I’ve got one question for every member in your team, your clique Cortez, how long will it take your Mexican ass to make a 99-cent bag of Dorito chips? Math, when the last time you gripped a machine gun or seen a brick? Let me ask your manager, you fat motherfucker, when the last time you seen your dick? I’m what you call a boss, my dogs, I don’t call em off Tell em that hollow’s off, introduce Brooklyn to the holocaust Instructions: kill anything moving and you, haul em off You, cotton soft, your slick game is average They nickname me NASA the way I let them rockets off No, I’ll bring the bitch out y’all toughest nigga He a sucker nigga, main nigga that’ll suck a nigga He’ll sit in a man lap, and let him run his fingers up your backside, you little puppet nigga Man, fuck this nigga! [Round 3: Math Hoffa] Chaz, you a ho, and this some shit that I’m about to prove See, paying dudes and paying dues is what you got confused Lux told him “You could battle Ice, that’ll be a good shot for you Fly yourself out, and if you’ve got some bread, cop a room Come through, do the battle, and I ain’t splitting no gwop with you” Verb was like “I got it, cool! At least I’ll get lots of views!” So this cockatoo got on his grind, blew a cock or two Flew out, chain tucked, money in his socks and shoes Cops got the news, shut it down, Verb got the boot Lux’s grimey ass ain’t give a fuck ‘cause he got the loot Y’all think it’s not the truth, YouTube it, watch this dude Standing on the corner all night like a prostitute Talking ‘bout “Yo Ill, I think we bout to get rushed, dirty Goodz said he got some pussy lined up, I think he talking bout us, dirty!” Then he called out Solomon, really that was not the move You couldn’t see Iron face to face if you was Dr. Doom Just when I thought the ho alone, I see another shot of you On Worldstar, talking ‘bout you bout to get up gwop for Mook? What he told you? “25 and I’ll rock with you?” What you said? “Aight daddy, I’ll hit the block for you” That’s when I called him, like “you filling niggas pockets duke? Come battle me! Now I’m making a profit too!” Toot toot! Now you know how them broads feel You won a little light, now you know how the dark feel Sharp steel in your heart, now you know how the hawk feel Eagle on his temple, one spark and he’ll cartwheel I look at Chaz sober, a fairy, he’s nothing scary Boozy on that Hurricane? Halle Berry, it’s Halle Berry! Black & Decker toolcase, Mac-11 tool spray Hit from your gold teeth to your patent leather toupée But why let the hammer go when I can just slam the ho Split his cantaloupe, leave this pussy with a cameltoe? We animals, this the Zoo against the Lou, no Chaka I spit that blocka, you spit that thraga That’s our slang so he probably don’t understand it You know, some country niggas slow so you gotta speak in their language Andele, Andele, E.I, E.I., uh-ohhhhh! Shimmy shimmy coco puff, shimmy shimmy bow! Right “thurr” I’m just tryna help him out a bit If Chaz survive this, nigga, hell gon be a college trip Captain Marketable, I can sell you on all kinds of shit For one, you could be a face model for a hollow tip It’s third round, we’re getting down to the gritty I’m feeling iffy, but I gotta hold it down for my city I know BK is with me, I can hear the spirit of Biggie It’s all around me, I can feel him going in me! “Ahw, first thing’s first, I, Poppa, squeeze all the dummies Dummy, playboy’s country, he just brought us money Those the ones I like ‘cause they don’t get Nathan but devastation Your flow just seems like sanitation Got bars, get turned like door knobs, heartthrob never Whack and country as ever However, New York City stays on a pedestal Check the time zone, it’s telling you, we ahead of you Like my nigga Jay-Z, fuck you, pay me How the fuck you gon play me? The fuck is you gravy? You must be crazy, Chaz, you a sweet bitch-“ Nah, nah, Big, I gotta do this nigga, peep this I’m New York’s star, I’ve got New York scars I put my work in, NYB, that’s my New York squad You should’ve followed Lil Wayne, he the hottest in the game But rather pull his teeth out than face them New York bars ‘Cause New York’s hard, I’m on my New York shit I came to tell this nigga Chaz, get off of New York’s dick! Go battle Yung Ill after he give Lux his style back He done Smack, file that, where the fuck Miles at?! [Round 3: Aye Verb] Gee whiz, wasn’t expecting those bars, yeah right, ha ha But the fact still remains Okay, I’m off that shit, y’all get the point, time to switch lanes Nigga, your bars ‘bout as exciting as a Knicks game You ain’t dope, you can’t kill me When Smack asked if I want a hit of Hoffa, I rolled up my sleeve and said “which vein?” St. Louis know, he in the presence of a shooter, know how his tone switch and his pitch change He rap wild at them timid rap clowns, I’m that back clowd that’ll thunderstorm and rain on that big name No homo, this the round when I get in your ass, shit stain Looking like a big bitch-ass holiday heart Ving Rhames You’re just a New York battle rapper, this battle in New York I’m on your house like “Fuck your couch nigga!” - Rick James Surprise, y’all didn’t seen that coming Like old girl from Dead Presidents hopping out that trash can, blasting I’m ‘bout to smoke him, all y’all that gas Math gon need gas masks He just signed Tsunami Surf to Team Hoffa, Surf text me like “Verb, he treat me bad, fam He said it was all love, he just come to the studio, get behind me, grab me, fuck me all flash fast Got me walking around Jersey in a ass cast!” Math said he the devil, nigga you gon have to let a ?? I’m ‘bout to smoke this nigga, tonight I play the trash man Yeah, listen to it, he don’t have bars He do shit like bring up niggas real names to gain laughs Well, mine’s Chaz, and I’ll let him shave me bald on Smack If Justin could book a plane ticket under the name “Math” *Bleep bleep* “Newsflash, breaker, breaker, this just in Math Hoffa, a.k.a. Justin, was caught with two loaded .45’s and an ounce of crack cocaine He said he was influenced by Rick Ross’s Hustlin When interrogated by authorities, we found out the Brooklyn native’s heart was tucked in Found out he was facing years just ten And Justin agreed to cooperate with the authorities, gave up the ‘who, what, when’ And I quote, ‘It was Cortez, Liaison, and D. Chambers too, I can’t go down for those niggas officers, fuck them’” Back to business! Brooklyn, how y’all produce a dolphin and y’all said shark? Nigga please, I’ve been around wilder animals in Pet Smart You’ve been active for six years, I’ve been active for a year; taking me, was that smart? And he’s still losing this race with a five year head start I needed dirt on Math, I hollered at Math lil broad I said “what’s up, baby?” She said “What’s up, my man’s a fraud” I said “Your man’s a fraud?” she said “yeah” so I said “tell me more” She said “First off, that shit on his face, birth mark, he been had that scar Trust me, Verb, he ain’t half as hard Don’t nobody know him in Brooklyn, he ain’t even half a star He 32 and still battling, embarrassing me with these average bars” I said “well I’m over in Queens, so holler up baby, roll through” she said ”I would but we don’t have a car And my lights finna get cut off Verb, we have it hard, what can I do?” I said “Oh, you need some cash at large” Flew her to St. Louis, introduced her to a Vessona and some caviar, had her selling ass to stars I used my mind to control her body, your bitch is now my avatar My homie Jun is locked away, so losing? Nah, not today If I feel in my heart, this win got away I’ma show up on his sets with my crew aiming machines with lights on this actor Trust me, this is not a play but someone’s getting shot today Heat seeking shells, I toss in the air from like a block away He can run, skip, buddy, hop away, till they get a hit, them shells gon be after Math (Aftermath) like Dr. Dre I ain’t worried about Math on no street shit, he can roll up to me waving a loaded handgun I would probably, “Tuh, come on, quit playing, huh” I’m from the show me state, you gotta show me, I don’t give a fuck where this man from Yeah, we heard, but I ain’t never seen you fucking with Clips, he like Cam’ron