Swervoo vs. Franchise

Lyrics

[Round 1: Swervoo] I said…is Swerv' done rappin', or URL got him shelved? That's what y'all was guessin' It ain't nothin' but erratic energy to send y'all a message It ain't about bars Y'all like shit that's right under y'all nose, and that's the only reason y'all accept him Nigga, grab a weapon 'Cause your death, I'm finna book it Where I'm from, ain't no attachments on the gun It's standard button, and you just push it It's the 7.62s, so as far as the piece, in the DMV It don't matter if it's old, Franchise…it's the Bullets! I'mma pull it! If y'all brave, tell Smack, "Take full cover" (?), then I'll stay Wit' one 12, 'bout to catch a rapper in Florida, it's Rod Wave Muzzle the gun, I came to let the chrome off where y'all stay With a silencer, and this bitch tone soft as Sade AK, it get to hackin' at limbs in broad day! Now the athlete fucked up on one leg He done ruined a parlay! Let y'all play, we gon' drive down your one-way You try to box instead? We gon' lift SIGs This mothafuckin' car might not be reversible, but the clip is You gon' get his, we gon' kill the nigga Shattered organs, I'm talkin' nothin' but ribs and liver Leave the soccer player body on your doorstep I know it was unexpected, but here's the kicker! I don't fear the nigga, we endure pressure Since a youngin, we had toy guns way before seven Losin' loved ones growin' up To see another day, only if the Lord let 'em Brought more TECs in I sold ghost guns, but didn't feel bad, 'cause once you buy it, it's your weapon I just needed to get paid, then the machine made (maid): it's George Jetson I learned more lessons Selling stolen shoes for rock, leavin' 'em folded and planted Way before Illuminati, niggas was gettin' they soles (souls) took for granite (granted) I mean this I was a robber, you played soccer, so peep this If it was any foul play in the field, both our rewards was free kicks! And I mean this! All of it's mistaken! I'm 'bout to leave all these whores in the basement Extra 20 in the clip, and boy, I'mma blaze it Leave the athlete on front of the pro mag': it's Sports Illustrated I get to bombin'! After you, it's the rest of yo' crew, I'm finna harm 'em I'm a sick nigga See nothin' but food in Every Fuckin' Bar, it's Jeffrey Dahmer Grab the arm, and then I crash I'm talkin', bullets hit the glass I'mma need the best lawyer in the world, 'cause Every Fuckin' Bar passed! See Danny Myers, I'mma spaz! Rum tried to get away 'cause he dashed Now it's Men in Black I walk up on you like, "Ay-ay, you seen the Alien?" FLASH! That's for my past! But you see, bro, we came from the bottom not seein' hope My grandfather tellin' me he put me in his will, the last time that he spoke In the house it was weed smoke Only had one game system, couldn't even cope My Nintendo stopped workin' is when I realized that we (Wii) broke And it's Murrland [Round 1: Franchise] No Lackin'! We got Franchise on NOME You know that I'm steppin' I'm the only reason you on this card, that's not even a question So just think about it: Before all the sports that you mentioned A soccer player giving you the shot, Swerv'...it's David Beckham! I'm 'bout to up it in seconds (*click-click*) They said the contract was 2:30, nigga I showed up wit' .357s Ain't no survivors White sheets wit' the shells inside ya I'm talkin' Swerv' in the coroner's (corners) like Pinky's driver I up the hammer… BOW! Then body Swerv': it's a belly dancer Your stock would hardly gain If I ain't give you this shot, it would never change I'm the only reason you on NOME, my nigga Stop the games It's apparent (a parent) why they picked you: Bronny James! I peel shit! (Wake up!) It's apparent (a parent) why I picked you: Bronny James! I peel shit! I break buildings down, my nigga, I'm a killswitch Might even label me a bomb threat…like Real Sikh! I up it and wave it! Clap it and bang it! This shit can go down at any minute: Anthony Davis! I left the whole scene litty (WHAT!? It's already over!) I left the whole scene litty I caught his bitch at the crib, cracked her head on the floor, she tried to flee quickly She fell to the ground, then got stomped in the tile (towel) like P. Diddy! You said you could sell speed to a State Trooper? Great move I hustle, I used to sell food Nigga, I could sell pussy to J2! (No Lackin'!) The feds was tryna charge me for PCP, nigga You don't know what type of time I was on I was on the run for cycling wet Sound like a triathlon I'm 'bout to check dawg! We had crack, weed, and fentanyl But blew up off the white girl: that's a sex doll He got shot in his center Drive-by, I'll pull a Heckler Skrrt off…scott-free like Kylie Jenner! I'm 'bout action! I'm 'bout action! I'm 'bout action! Chrome clappin'! Two words… You don't know who you messin' wit' I'm 'bout to check a bitch I'll let it spit with another clip Code word "bumper cars" (What that mean?) I hit Swerv' with the rubber grip! I'm testin' ya heart! I'll break ya fuckin' neck, then set it apart Crack, snap, then (*pop*) like ASMR We hit the family roots! GPS, we try to find addys Cousins, uncles, grandmas, even shot aunties They'll carry (Carrie) your mom and bury (Barry) your son: it's a white family Remember my intersection? Smith & Wesson? I'm 'bout to tell you about the rest of the block We used to mess wit' the opps at the Mexican spot Forever was hot, some shit I never forgot We hit that block with hundreds of shots You know what we called that intersection, nigga!? Heckler & Koch! These rounds was perfectly crafted 'cause you ain't as great Imagine Travis Kelce and Swift having a baby Tailor (Taylor)-made! I up a K, a bullet stuck in your fuckin' plate The surgery took hours, half a day They spent hella time on your chest: Flavor Flav! I'm 'bout action, chrome- Time, nigga [Round 2: Swervoo] I said… Lately, I been on solo missions, 'cause that's just often best You niggas run wit' a crew, or a crowd, 'cause y'all cause a threat I'm wit' KMM, you wit' EFB So that's why we all gon' step 'Cause we know it's a risk of one of us taking on Franchise alone So that's why we all in vest (invest) I'mma put this all to rest 'cause bro so basic! It's the same shit wit'chu! It's all about the placement First you tell us what they do, and then insert a close reference It's like a job application The shit's sickenin' to me! Your whole style is Above the Rim 'Cause you make a round outta nothin' like Tom Sheppard, and the shit is just weak Or you say some gangsta shit like Birdie, and then it's a Flip on the streets I don't get it! To me, it was just all propaganda You say some shit that sound good, then it's just constant pander Like, I could do it - we was runnin' armed wit' hammers Sellin' so much, uh, work, niggas started askin' You just said you from a intersection called Smith & Wesson? Well, that's somethin' that y'all would fathom We stretched work and we had guns on my block You know what my intersection was called? Nigga, Arm & Hammer! One call I answered Not one of my part of my life gone steady My uncle died off water I wish he woulda stuck on reggie The funeral home gave us 50 percent off 'Cause he smoked so much PCP, he did half of the work already! That's why it was constant wit' the stuff! Lean, suboxone wasn't enough I mean, work was in the floor so the profit wasn't gettin' touched It started in the mattress, then eventually thrown in the tile (towel) But we was never giving up I mean, yo' content usually a little sus You talked to Yunus like you tough Wit' me, I don't give a fuck I done been pallbearer for fallen homie, after fallen homie, after fa- And it seemed I had enough You could never talk to me like no virgin You know how many BOXES I done touched!? He gettin' plucked, and he just know they on I done had niggas in the courtroom losin' they freedom, and they know it's gone The judge asked my man, "What drove you to do something so sick?" He said, "A stolen car" I'll grab a AR! And I'm like, "Fuck it. Now his fam' got nothin'- got no memories of his soccer games 'cause he ain't tuck it." And the last thing his mother seen him kick was the bucket! I'm like, "Fuck it!" (*Swervoo chokes, paces, tries to remember his next bar, and cuts his round short*) [Round 2: Franchise] Your career been in the same state Kelz your manager? She's always drunk, and that can lead to great mistakes How the fuck she gon' push your career if she's always intoxicated and makes mistakes? Every event, it's a different bottle, and that's why your career's been stuck in place 'Cause she's just under the influence of Rum like Elijah Strait! We gon' talk freely! Your career's been at a stay-easy She's so much of a alcoholic, she got y'all battling in a club named Mart- I'mma stop it here! All she care about if them tickets go OSBL, it's at the do' She used to snakin' her client like Tony Bro How many battles do you get!? Then she charge you a fee Nigga, 99 percent of your battles be at home, we can see Why the fuck do they call her "Kelz" if all she does is roam DMV? Nigga, tell me the truth! Nigga, the shit ain't fun You and your manager? What kinda shit y'all done? I could show you 99 Problems, but could you show me why this bitch ain't one!? This shit never been enough Nigga, you better smarten up! 'Cause your career…been on the line like a telemarketer! It's straight comas, when I flame on ya Wit' the copper, nigga: it's a slave owner That was a bad disaster Bullets go in and out the body, I clapped him after The coppers go through you, like Jaz The Rapper I'll pine-box ya Remember those last two bars? Every line proper Those were just copper tips: Crimestoppers! You ever seen a body at your youngest age? Shit shook you up for a couple days Right beside death like a hearing aid!? I'm bipolar, ain't no talking to me Type-a nigga to tie a rope around your neck, then tell you "It's (k)not what it seems." I seen bitches that handle it well Stuff a brick in their jeans, yeah, bag in itself A ki' by the private parts…chastity belt I used to have work, it's true O.T., we served 'em food Even trapped in a small town, like Beetlejuice What that cap about? On site, Magnum out As soon as I first seen this pussy It's a casting couch Mano-a-mano if it's wreck! We bombin' on your set Target with the flesh The switch work by itself, it's autocorrect Brand new gun, I'm chain' him Aimin' it, sprayin' it He like, "What kinda metal was that?" Vibranium! You bottom-tier in the DMV! I don't think that you get the picture Saflare, Footz, Woosaah - they all better than ya Jakk', Drugz. Quban, Ryda - do y'all get it wit'cha? Ain't it ironic? I ain't even mention Prep yet, and that was already, like, seven niggas! I'm 'bout action! Chrome packin'! Two words…(No Lackin') [Round 3: Swervoo] Like I was saying, the last thing his mother seen him kick was the bucket! I'm like, "Fu-" I ain't gotta tuck it, he gettin' hit wit' a cold right He be out for a whole night I'll be damned if he gon' fight 'Cause you talk about choppas, and you played soccer You ain't use your hands your whole life Nigga, hold tight! We was born sinners Evil thoughts since we was children I mean, it started as imagination, but that's before we heard the whispers I don't believe in second chances, just death and consequences And I only believe in a Parallel Universe 'Cause I seen a Franchise tag, but he was no longer wit' us See, lately I ain't been in no rotation They got me outta town It's extra points 'cause I don't know no faces They asked me, "Why you don't ask blessings from God?" Tssh, it's oh-so basic 'Cause if I prey on you, then send you to Him I just figured my prayers just gon' make it Tell bro, don't fake it 'Til your family watchin' a search party on the news I just did him oh-so flagrant Another Black parent gotta see his son missin' from the TV And he was found in no remote location See, y'all playing a game The lies is 'cause of y'all, and y'all the ones to blame See, this nigga pen…was- This nigga pen used to be great, then shit just up and changed Now he say shit like, "Paul Walker: Swerv' death" See, Franchise ain't been the same Play a game! I'll let a tool spark Now somebody around you dyin' 'cause you talked Docs approachin', askin' "Come and sit and talk to me," like Lou Rawls Now you off, and you sittin' and prayin', hopin' that the news fall But the soccer player just gotta stick through it: it's foosball! I'm too off! You don't know me I done sent shooters from East to Midwest That's old me Came back, was straightforward with the (K)nicks, that's Anunoby On my right, I passed the .9 to my shooter, that's Ginobili But on my right, he done did time I can't give the felon (fell in) the chopper…that's Kobe See, that's the old me See, now we creep on him We put him in nothin' but white sheets on him Go ahead and pick your options Either the morgue or cremation, so keep talkin' You can't make your mind up if you wanna be on that cold table? Well, I'mma help you sleep on it I'mma keep bombin'! Round, bro [Round 3: Franchise]