Ness Lee vs. Illmaculate

Lyrics

[Round 1: Ness Lee] Dirtbag Dan got a little butt-hurt He figured one word could piss me off A little, but hurts This is absurd 'cause I know your history chump You little punk nerd So when I dig enough dirt Y'all a be digging up Dirt You freaking faggot A jab'll put your teeth in grass so fast we think you had the Easter rabbit's eating habits But him, he's a savage Lush, I said I need a challenge Not a freaking battle with a man that reached Jesus status How can I be prepared to make this battle even fair? Look at his evil stare it's like I'm not even here I take a step, he beat me there 'cause he done leaped a year and- I ain't even see you there! You need a chair Ay Lush, you see this bum he's comfortably 120 comes up to my knees if you put him in front of me son Funny like what do want from me? So you want me to jump ugly and run up on Buck Bundy start running his lunch money? You two foot geek, you ain't thug, what you gon' do to me The only thing that you will swing is your feet in a booster seat You'll get Illusion Z'ed into a lucid dream Viewing sheep and moving z's You would think a cartoon was 'sleep See him on the net you figure Ill is that dude Like he's giving kids the business so he's killing that dude Till you witness him in the flesh with them little-ass shoes And he's spitting it at you You thinking 'isn't that cute?' Little Illy attended a black school and got victimized by the skinniest kid in the classroom He'd steal your pencils and your passes to the frigging bathroom Hold 'em this high and you'd be jumping like 'Give 'em back dude!' I bet you record in a little-ass booth How tall are you in feet, like a little past two? Your favorite time of day is like a little past 2:00 You got a short history 'mac, a little past too So you don't need Ness to say that he's weak and indeed extra gay It's needless to say that he's sweet in a Gene Kelly way So please step away before I immediately send you back to your respectful place The side of T-Rex's face [Round 1: Illmaculate] Introducing Ness Lee He's a new dude on the scene But he's foolish as hell He'll respond to every YouTube comment you leave And doesn't take scrutiny well Fuck it, you can't fuck with me I'll merc' this cat We could do it at the venue or in a parking lot 'Cause a real emcee can adjust to any circumstance So here's how the situation had popped off He hit me up, I was debating on taking the broad's call He started complaining about his battle with Frankie like "Ah nah Nah dog, I won, but the crowd was wack So I feel in a way that I got robbed" Well if there's one thing you can say about Greg it's he's got balls So if I'mma lose The last thing I'mma do Is start blaming it on y'all See I should be battling cats like Math, Mook, Lux, Serius, Arsonal or Solomon Written, freestyle, funny, street cats I never been partial to a following Anybody, anywhere Put up money, and I'm there Fuck a battle for free, this cat is bummy, and he's scared This bitch'll get served, witness this nerd get his confidence smashed I felt guilty at first, but he wanted this bad Screaming 'fuck the world,' with his dick in the dirt, while I'm stomping him flat I try to listen when he's spitting his verse, but he's rocking that hat What you thought them gimmicks will work? You shoulda came with a slit in your shirt Or more props for your act And I ain't dissing Hollow He one of the realest dudes to meet me He don't feel the mood is greazy So you can go ahead and rhyme your little syllables uniquely But our battle was proof You gotta take it to a level that you ain't willing to to beat me See, his insecurities cut deep Now I know the wound is open Since I first accepted this battle the only hope for you's promotion I can't lose now And that's the realest quotable that's spoken 'Cause he did this for free, I got a couple Gs And now we're just going through the motions Let's make sure this little punk's facts are clear He'll say I ducked him in New York I'll end this chump's rap career I battled Con and Hollow the same day The Saurus in the Bay Now I'm ducking Ness Lee? Get the fuck outta here! [Round 2: Ness Lee] I'm from the south But I'll leave you walking out What you talking 'bout? If I'm on such a low level why you call me out? Matter of fact, I'll smash your moms You'll have a little brother that became grey If you battled Con and Hollow in the same day How come you lost 'do? That make you lame and gay If ever thug was your image, it wasn't intended This junky wouldn't steal prescription drugs from a clinic that's unattended You inherited this buttocks kicking It's like I died and gave wifey the house and daughter the car: I'm giving son the business You little munchkin midget, snatch you out a Honda Civic And twist you up in a position that you sitting like Russell Simmons You better duck or get it when I punch your chin in Somebody tell sonny listen before he gets Sonny Liston'ed And I'm violent about something that you always do You threaten people twice as tall as you You know karate moves? If not, Madness and Dizaster woulda bodied you The Saurus woulda zipped you The Don woulda hollowed you So naturally the thing that can't get past me is the fact that he's three and a half feet and tryna act street Ask me if he packs heat in his pants, please You put a nine in his slacks he wouldn't be able to bend his damn knees Picture this action movie, bet you laugh profusely Imagine little Ratatouille tryna blast the Uzi It happens to be two or three rappers in this room that'll bring you shattered and bruised dreams and that includes me I go ham With both hands you fake clown And when we slow dance it's no romance just take out I close-hand him and homes could land facedown But he so short, we don't know if it's a KO or standing eight-count Anyway, wasn't you nerdy back in your Scribble days? 'Cause rocking skinny legs before they was a fad is pretty gay You used to [?] and talk more proper Rap about your notebook and never support choppers Now it's "I hate cops! X and Bacardi! Wait till my album drop, sex at the party!" He has no Glocks, TEC's, his own 40s I can look at you and tell your arms are short But not just on your body [Round 2: Illmaculate] Here's how you can tell he ain't iller than me 'Cause if he the sicker emcee How come you can tell the difference between His written and frees? I will body you Peep game I popped to Ness Lee's dame Left her sheets stained She did me like Krang without the bodysuit I mean brain But I ain't force her the whore was a cheap date She ordered a beefsteak I told her we wasn't leaving till she polished the fork and the clean plate The bitch ain't wanna finish, but I forced her: then she paid See your recordings are poorer than me And your formula's cliché My schemes are cleaner your shit is horrible And even in Portland you'd seem strange Your choruses are boring and seem lame He in his fuckstick home booth using his unmixed vocals for torturing T-Pain But I see the bitch in the blood that's coursing in Lee's veins I'm using you to get money 'Cause they swore that I'd be paid You homeless, so you only using me to get money 'Cause I'm bored and you need change I'm ignoring this pea-brain But afford me a brief favor Your recordings are plain But according to his name Whoever thought that he'd need flavor? Of course, it's sort of the thang Like calling a big guy 'Tiny' or a tortoise 'The Speed Racer' See I'm scoring like D Wade but I'm not a sportsman or team player You're corny but seem brave and that's unfortunate behavior He said "Shorty dies!" Ving Rhames met the coroner weeks later I breathe hate This dead man ain't seen flames till the Bay gave his corpse to the cremator [Round 3: Ness Lee] I know you threatened a lot of rappers It's time you get sent to the ER I got a challenge for you You accept it to be hard I dare you not to settle for setups that's retard And make us miss your punchlines 'cause you stretch 'em for three bars I'm the rap general slash veteran Who gets mad cheddar to smash records And your crew knew you a rat 'cause you run your mouth And run around the mousetrap Till you get smacked dead in your fat head with a broom Screw whatever happened Past present or soon How many battles Ill won Like that's relevant 'ooooh' That was back then dog Subtract legend from truth And this cat's destined to lose 'Cause I rap better than you I told 'em "I'm a fan, dog In battles you're a beast But you do damage on a beat When's your album out? I need one" He reached into his baggie like "There's actually a fee but you can have this one for free, son" Can I get a refund? I'd put your album against you to bag me some bitches But for that to happen I'd have to give it an actual listen And you don't have to be a mathematician or master addition To tell this cat's the president of the wackest division You said your entire top tier is locked up As far as I know, the only one in jail is Onlyone So how many rappers in your top tier, only one? And how many battles has Only won, only one? Last time I heard, that's not something to brag about Wack-rhyming nerd gets locked up and y'all gangsta now? That's why you prefer to send 9DM to only battle, wow Your top tier, ain't around We all agree, you happy now? And what's with that dumb video? The lyrics son's spitting plus image is something silly fo' Homes, arms folded, slang all wrong like "What's really 'do?" Nerdy entourage all [?] like "Come get me bro!" Woah You said "I'll ply out your fingernails And sneak up behind you And knife you like splinter cells" Well, what he shoulda said is "My life is a living hell, my wifey is really pale and I've never been to jail" Your wife's a midget, but I might hit it Catch her at the club like "I hope you got a big trunk, 'cause I'm putting my bike in it" What's most funny is you Talking 'bout chrome twos busting And you holding your own to punching As you, would need a whole crew to rush me You was probably homeschooled and you're the size of toadstools cousin 'Cause if I ran up on you With intentions to fold you it's nothing I'd crush you and say I owned you in public I can sit here and tell you that you won't do nothing What makes it so funny is you won't do nothing And I don't need to wave a damn eagle, that fake fag My hand'll meet you, and melt Sandpeople to stained glass I run up on your crew like "What a do, goof troops?" And plant a foot in you until my muddy shoes grew roots The kickback from a 22'll ruin dude And you got the nerve to ask what's goody two-shoes: you! So I gotta ask you Are you absentminded, 'cause you lost weight, respect and a whole lot of battles You might agree the irony's enormous son Your record's four and one And you're four foot one He was grieving his losses and took Conceited's the hardest But you couldn't read him retarded 'cause you need a The Saurus By the way, I peeped that battle last week You mighta won, but damn Pete coulda spit his to a damn beach The facts be you sound more weak written You proved white men can't jump, or keep rhythm Before that battle people like "You fell off and you garbage dog" But I'm like "He's four feet tall, he ain't have that far to fall" Then that cat piggybacked you Two championships in fact But the snitching act in y'all's battle ended that So yeah, y'all know the story 'bout the midget on a giant's shoulder? I tried to told ya' tiny soldier, but the ride is over [Round 3: Illmaculate] Here's how you can tell Ness Lee's [?] The police coming! But at least we don't have to hear a free from 'em I'll murder this bitch Clearly I hope that you crash when it's said and done on your flight tomorrow 'Cause every verse that he spit, was merely the opening act for every one of mine that followed I know that you praying I wrote reverses but player I own the circuit And I ain't battling Ness I'm battling the bitch that's laying below the surface The same one on the forums complaining, I know he's nervous He hates it, it pains him Everyone's saying he don't deserve this Well, just accepting this battle it's like I set the mousetrap Soon as Ness pokes his head around, snap! Motherfucker make a threat about that This jealous clown's mad Mad that I'll pass him Speeding in the slow lane Put him in his casket Leave him in his own grave Everyone's asking why I'm beefing with a no-name They said he's good at rapping so I beat him at his own game See for him, nothing's achievable This motherfucker is regional But last battle, ask him He was chucking the heater too: right? Honestly it was uncomfortable seeing you Acting like you was tucking the cannon Bucking and blamming I understand adjusting for the fans But something you need to do Is at least make it fucking believable This cheap dead beat don't know what street cred means Think I can't beat Ness Lee Test my reflex speed If he a NES, then I'm a PS3 Think you the coldest on the scene or the dopest with the schemes If you the franchise player I'm the owner of the team The moment that I stepped in Your life's threatened in five seconds My knife's rusty, so try and rush me I side step 'em This guy's ugly, the only [?] I'll mention Is you look like a bootsy, Fugee We just gonna call you Wyclef.....chin And I know you causing your label some grief Hitting Wyclef up, banging your keys Begging him "Please, make me some beats!" Which also explains why his latest release was for Haiti relief I'm just gon' say what everybody's been thinking the whole night Like "When personalized hats go wrong" But wait, when do they go right? I been told that I'm fresher and I'm sicker on tracks Now watch him fold under pressure like the brim of his cap He wasn't concerned with his image, in fact He didn't care that his fit didn't match He was more concerned with how many tips he could fit in his hat If your bitch says she loyal, then she lying I was whipping with her, switched lanes, speed by him Seat back, reclining Getting road head: while she's driving But I'll be honest with him Getting hype is what they know me for This is where Hollow would ask God to forgive him Man I might be going overboard Fuck it, now it's bodybags 'cause I gotta spazz But this is common knowledge had You heard one of the songs you has He had baby-mama drama After a year, found out he was not the dad Funny, 'cause now I'm sonning you Kinda like the kid that you thought you had