F.L.O. vs. Ness Lee

Lyrics

[Round 1: F.L.O.] I'm classic, hope you been writing fantastic Best thing you wrote was bad checks and recipes for catfish This gon' be tragic 'cause when this fat bastard passes his ashes gon' need an elastic stretching casket Greetings you, Dirty South heathen Welcome to Oakland, now when the fuck is you leaving? They not believing what they seeing Agreeing to be a witness to the murder this evening of Morgan Freeman Put yo' Driving Miss Daisy ass on front street, with ya' buck teeth Ya' all grown up now, huh Buckwheat? I heard ya' baby moms a real testicle-tester And I'm an alphabet nigga, she wanted to fuck so I let her Y'all could still stay together And we could take turns putting dick in her mouth and ask the bitch who taste better See look, you don't chase cheddar you taste cheddar Velveeta got you looking like a mixed-together Pastor Troy and Mason Betha Lactose intolerant and softer than soy You must be ludicrous to think you fucking with this big boy [Round 1: Ness Lee] Now when I rock, you either hear cheers or a clear silence When you rock it's weird 'cause people just stare and appear violent So I end you here you minus I make sure you go out with a big bang like I'm Peggy Bundy's hair stylist Your belly getting bigger there giant? Well it isn't weird science my nigga just quit your frigging beer diet But never mind all that, let's just get clear to the facts This here should be classed as some type of trick mirror match See we share a striking resemblance Your face look like mine, if God decided to strike it with lightning and vengeance And spite me by sticking me in a smiling position, using my teeth to stop fan blades and idling engines You look like Jesus was tryna make me on a time limit but quit it in five minutes like "Jeez I'm too tired to finish" And God was tripping like, "This can't be in my image, I'm highly offended Jesus Christ, you gotta quit tryna be different" So let's run down our similarities: Black as hell, broke, funny, beard, heavy- heavier than me And Lush must do therapy apparently he set this battle up for me to fight my insecurities [Round 2: F.L.O.] See I be on it, I try to whip my opponent But that name-flip shit, I could do it if I wanted Um, it's necessarily necessary to make a necessity outta Ness And kick the Loch Ness out of its nest and flee in the Lex from Eliot Ness I don't know if it's 'cause you fat or you grey, but at other people birthday parties you literally take the cake Catch him poolside at the hotel by the pink flamingos Eating Flamin' Hot Cheetos, rocking crocodile Speedos Amigo, you so soft you jiggle And you could eat a watermelon like a Vlasic pickle I dare you to do a push-up Suck in the fat on the back of yo' neck motherfucker and try to look up You got a George Foreman Grill, and a George Foreman grill Looking just like the over-the-hill Shaquille O'Neal Now explain go ahead, you so lame and so dead You complain with no bread, it's T-Pain with no dreads I'm not easy, believe me 'Cause comparing us is like comparing a young Jesus, to a Young Jeezy [Round 2: Ness Lee] I spit body to the bags You do comedy in your rap but your comedy's trash and your raps is comedy, in fact We're laughing at you not with you, check everybody in the back When you rocking they all act like they swatting at a gnat You should probably try rhyming when you're rhyming Hell you, would probably rhyme 'rhyming', with 'rhyming' I weave my patterns and schemes like it's a string attached My G the last crazy scheme you had made you think you could freaking rap Your jokes is funny but your approach is ugly so I spit how you'd do it if you did it like you supposed to done it You look like a roasted onion Like somebody smoked a Funyun, and thrown it in a toaster oven Like five to nine cats in a Grind Time chat request that I might ask why do rhyme like that? So how come that, mister round and black, can't figure out how to make a vowel sound match? And I ain't wanna type you up on YouTube to try to study you to realize you sucked, especially when you rhyme with Lush But you ain't spit a wack verse in a minute, I ain't lying but I meant an actual minute, that's funny 'cause my time is up [Round 3: F.L.O.] You not trapping, pimping, or Cadillac'ing If you hopped in a Cadillac all four tires would flatten Now my reaction is not to be capping but I can't fathom what happen when Tracy Chapman start rapping You should migrate west, to the depths of Bangladesh and immediately invest in exercise and bed rest 'Cause even with thinness, you still need fitness You got a pair of heavy breasts where most men would have a chest You see I'm quite shocked And in a mood 'cause I gotta battle dude from the Uncle Ben's rice box You see I'm sick in so many ways To match my wit, you gon' need 3000 Andre's And a bunch of padres, that's sipping gin Bombay That's eating nacho grandes, with that nigga Gandhi You gon' need a better airbag than that nigga Kanye the day you squeeze yo' fat black ass in a little Hyundai No need for gay jokes, the pimp do it big But you pimp hoes that look like Ajaxx in a fucking blonde wig [Round 3: Ness Lee] This ain't a battle, that ain't what we calling it people And why mention Ajaxx again, ain't he already beat you? Lush One is a monster, and Jump Off was proof But since you was his partner, he might as well jumped off a roof He woulda been best off to just rock with Plex Rock Instead he got the less tall and jet-dark S-Rawk So what I'ma call he is the only dude worse than me from the WRC And Lush was like "Jeez, am I stuck on the wrong team? Two-on-two but naming myself 'One' was a smart thing?" You had one of them tall T's, size quintuple LRG And it still could not cover your stomach at all chief It looked like a tub of lard was tucked in some small jeans, one tug of the drawstring woulda flooded to Palm Springs And all of your production is stuck on the wrong key Plus I'm southern so Jee Money's punishment's on me Listen, you not fat but you a chin away from it Got mad at Jee Money 'cause he hit the gay button And tried to switch ya' game up but it ricocheted cousin 'cause you was screaming all in his face but you didn't say nothing But wait for a minute, he only said the Bay had a gay percentage 'Cause ay, you're in it