Song: Iron Solomon vs. Illmaculate
Viewed: 21 - Published at: 2 years ago
Artist: King of the Dot
Year: 2017Viewed: 21 - Published at: 2 years ago
[Round 1: Iron Solomon]
The crown only as powerful as the head that it rests on
The chain only as valuable as the neck it extends from
The jewels don't make the man, the man make the jewels glow
And wrapped around this goof's throat
Those karats turn to fool's gold
You was like Kanye, Pat and 'Ganik was Jay-Z and Dame
Saw how thirsty you were to have it and just gave you the chain
If he beat Rone, y'all could've done the coolest 2 Chainz merch
Now y'all stuck tryin' to sell off all them New Chain shirts
But that's what happens when y'all don't take the time to form a champion
One battle, now y'all gotta introduce him as the former champion
But I never thought his rhymes could command this stage
And I still don't think Greg nice: ain't a damn thing changed!
So don't mention a minute more about how many men you tore
It ain't mano a mano, it's miniature vers' the Minotaur
Fuck how many chains and rings that symbolize the wins you wore
There's a difference between how you win awards and how you win a war
He's at home doing hip-hop in Oregon when this kid is bored
I'm from the home of hip-hop's origin, the Apple, this is in our core
You done bit of more than you can chew for dinner, little boy
Got squeezed out the limelight, is that what you bitter for?
You salty 'cause the lemons that life gave you sour
Gettin' served by someone seasoned
My food for thought what they devoured
All you other paupers peeved how the king came to power
I know y'all got somethin' for the kid like a baby shower
But the kid got somethin' for y'all too: baby powder
So I can slap a little self-respect into you hateful cowards
Yo, they pray it's curtains for Iron, can't end this Russian's rule yet
It's Cold War, I got one shot, let's play Russian Roulette
I'll grab the pistol, grip the handle, load a single hollow
Then spin the barrel, make you play Spin the Bottle
The revolver circles 'round to you, kiss the nozzle
Or I put numbers on your head and my shooters hit the lotto
Bitch, why would you skip Apollo just to mix minx with Drago?
It's Iron aficionado, Midget 'Mac can't diss the motto
I back up this bravado, he follow a different model
Everywhere that I go the spotlight on me: Vitiligo
Pride's a tough pill to swallow like OJ in the Branco
Still thinking he can get away…
Wait… the fuck did that little guy go?
Oh shit! He's down there, I didn't even notice
My apologizes, Your Highness, or should I say, "Your Lowness"?
I'm not short-sighted so I couldn't see you down there
But no one could
Maybe that's why every time a show is booked you get overlooked
So this Napoleon Dynamite Complex should not shock me
But boy, you are just beyond cocky for a lawn jockey
See, this false sense of confidence can't mask his embarassment
Since his Hollow/Conceited loses he just had this empty arrogance
But if you'd quit in 2007 you could've gone out a legend
With style and presence, a legacy Greg could be proud of reppin'
But he stuck around for a thousand sessions on whatever album he's about to mention
And most people don't even know it dropped like Tower 7
This clown could never fuck with me: permanent friend zone'd
Easter Island: I will give your whole circle a headstone
I'm just blowin' off some steam, he's tremblin' in his Timberlands
Constantine verse a constant teen
A Gremlin verse the Kremlin
This dude's dumb, if he thought he had a shot with me
The русском! мудак! киска! отвали! сука!
Yeah yeah, surprise surprise, I'll look right inside his eyes
And tell him, "I must break you" and "if he dies he dies."
[Round 1: Illmaculate]
Don't mind that little push
Right now probably you thinkin' this rapper is a punk
And the way you pander to the Russians?
No wonder that angle's gettin' trumped!
I got that "He belongs there", even if I lose vibe
You got that corny "White guys can rap, too" vibe
I got that "Another day at the office, this is what I do" vibe
You got that "Uncomfortable with yourself
So it's uncomfortable watching YOU" vibe
You told Clips, quote: "From Grind Time to Smack, to King of the Dot, I will always give this culture everything that I got."
Wait, like when you battled Mook
And the whole world seen that you flopped?
And you disappeared for four years—what, you think we forgot?!
We ain't hear a peep, not a song, not a leak, not a drop
Nothin' on IG, not a Tweet, we all started to think we was blocked
You quit hip-hop, let me get this shit right
When he comes back, what type of shit does this kid write?
He calls Day, Diz, Ars', and Clips "culture vultures", which just doesn't sit right
'Cause you wear rap like a costume, hung it up after the big fight
Now you tryna dust it off and put it on…but it just doesn't fit right
How you have the nerve to call THEM vultures?
I guess do what you do if it works
But you know cheater's guilt, when you start assumin' the worst
And accusin' a person of doin' you dirty
'Cause you the one doin' the dirt?
See, what you wrote about them was really about you
And those are feelings you project
Calling a black man a vulture in this culture
That's discriminate at best
In this house of hip-hop, you came in it as a guest
And disrespectin' the residences with those ignorant attempts
Only showcases that you're unaware of the privilege you possess
You know why? 'Cause this is not you, it's a costume
I put my life in this, if this don't work out? That's it
If this don't work out for you? It's cool – your dad's rich
I mean, you can afford to lose, Iron, you can afford to quit
Slow it do– you're a bitch!
This is not you, it's a costume
Bring up a loss from back in the day
Against Ars I was trash, what can I actually say?
But I ain't quit, I hit the gym, started poundin' them weights
Then I hopped back in this ring and made a classic with K!
You? Left, Randy Johnson: throwin' fast ones over the plate
Came back, Kenny Powers: flabby and out of shape
You left like Larry Bird leavin' Titletown
Came back like…Dennis Rodman in the bridal gown
You left… thinkin' you was Jordan with his tongue out
Came back…lookin' like Jordan in the dugout
Washed up, past your peak, was at the top 'til you got a loss
So animated, the conclusion I honestly gotta draw
You're like them cartoons when they step off the cliff and pause
And now's the moment you look down
And see you've already fallen off!
You quit rap, came back, been stuck on the same level
Game demo, get hit, magic bullet, paid special
Faceoff, tape deck you
Lift off, space vessel
Get hit, straight edge you
Twist guts, make pretzels
Press Iron, weight bench you
Drum solo, spray metal
String him up, play Cello
Stomp on him, bass pedal
Scream loud, talk shit – get popped for it
Rich boy, nice things – thank your pops for it
Little Mermaid soundtrack – your pops scored it
This battle, 3-0 – even if your pops scored it
[Round 2: Iron Solomon]
You can try to convince these people
You have some insight if you wanna
But you know what the shit's like
Through a kid's eyes seeing trauma
Every midnight, waking up to the drama
Defending my mama got me in fistfights with my father
See, when there's hate in your heart for the people that love you
There might be light at the end
But it's hard to see through the tunnel
The real ones know money is just one piece of the puzzle
You really think poverty is the only way for people to struggle?
Well, I'd like to give a thankyou to Illmaculate's career
For making this my least viewed battle of the year
Yo, and shout out to Kyle Gray, Avocado's great
The GOAT, a fact we cannot debate
He's so dope he even got y'all watchin' tapes of him watchin' tapes
Watch the tapes, you'll see Kyle puttin' Greg in his proper place
Cause when a player cannot compete
He should hit the sideline and just commentate
See, I'm a different food group from the Illmac's and The Saurus's
Don't compare me to them two foods, it's apples and oranges
You hate the association but did it all together, times two
Webster: what you wrote to go with thesaurus is what defines you
And that's what you can't stand
But it's too damn bad
You're just a backup singer in a two-man band
And like everybody who befriends you, I used to respect you
'Til I caught you talkin' shit online
And had to call you up and G check you
You need to be set straight
A man should address complaints to his friend's face
Not on no fuckin' Internet in front of fans while they spectate
If we were eye to eye when we said what we said, great!
I'm from New York, as long as it's direct we respect hate
So bitch, this fist for Greg's face with a knuckle for each feature
Make your eyes roll around in your skull like a speed reader
Stallone in the beef freezer, holdin' a meat cleaver
Street sweeper, suited up with the mask like a bee keeper
You was the big fish in this pond but we see deeper
You can't run with the wolves 'cause you only the sheep's leader
The bars you go to war with ain't even unique either
The Saurus is the original you're just a re-Peter
You see, Peter is like Michael Jackson and he's Bieber
Throwin' temper tantrums 'cause no one's a believer
But would y'all wanna chill with Illmaculate? Me neither
Ridin' around Portland, gangster leanin' to Pete Seeger
Doin' craft beer keg stands with underage Greg fans
In Birkenstocks and sweatbands
Bumpin' knockoff Grateful Dead bands
I'll get you pissed in this round without a bed pan
Ill's married to the game, I'll always be the best man
See, life's a bitch, go wine her and dine her
I just treat her like shit, slide inside her vaginer
Iron a fighter, eye of the tiger, I'm climbin' higher and higher
You stuck underground 'cause you look like you're a miner/minor
You peaked in your prepubescence and just never got better
You gotta be the unluckiest leprechaun ever
But in the Grind Time era he was the nicest motherfucker spittin'
In the uh… Northwestern, Greater Portland Area subdivision
Fast forward to The Saurus in a casino countin' up his winnin'
And Saul is in the office makin' paper like Dunder Mifflin
And Illmac the clown is standin' proud
In his daddy's baggiest hand-me-downs
Lookin' like Manny Devito or tranny Pacquiao
But your battle style's out of fashion now
And the Illmaculate hype's dead
It's the only skill you've developed
What do you have in your life, Greg?
Beyond this 9th grade mind state, still thinkin' you'll live forever
You just a high school dropout who never got his shit together
You're a super-duper-senior who lost all his cool demeanor
Takin' freshman to the prom and can't tell he's a loser either
Or the class clown who's a grad now
Comin' back down to his frat house to get pass out drun–
That's college shit, you wouldn't nothin' 'bout that now
So don't worry 'bout how this battle with me goes tonight
'Cause the day that you turned 30 you got 3-0'd by life!
[Round 2: Illmaculate]
I like how you talked about Ruin Your Day and us watchin' the tape
Find your bitch, she fuck around and get money shots in the face
Triple homicide, I catch a homi today
You gettin' bodied on tape, then you gettin' bodied on Watch when I watch it with Avocado and Chase!
This is not you, it's a costume
See, he learned to play this character
When his dad was doin' movie's though
You are not a rapper, just a theater kid with access to a studio
You was in there gettin' down your mean voice
Workin' on your rap punches
Practicin' against your dad's puppets
With your mom makin' sack lunches
Shit, lookin' back, when I rewind it, how can I keep quiet?
I watched you reuse bars for years before rappers were pre-writin'
So this is for every battle you recycled
When we was actually freestylin'
The fans look up to you, you made that pedestal your home
Recycle your bars before YouTube so they never woulda known
Talk about my legacy? Cool, let's explore your own
Gettin' credit you ain't deserve: that's a predatory loan
You went into every battle with an edge
I go into every battle with a straight one
Carve the word "privilege" into his flesh
So he remembers where he came from
Yeah, I called you out with no bars, nothin'
Fuck the props, I don't need a gold star from it
All I know is fans request it, this ho starts duckin'
And wants no parts of it
See me in the street and folks start runnin' like Omar's comin'
Hold up, true or false: you told Arsonal you would bust a nut on his daughter's baby wipes
Make him rub it in her pussy next time he change her diaps?
True or false?
[Iron] True
[Illmac] What are you– What about when your daughter watches that second round?
[Iron] I don't have a daughter
[Illmac] You don't have a daughter? A son, even better
What are you gonna tell your son
When he watches that second round?
What? You gonna tell him how
It was all an angle, that you had a better style?
I mean what are you gonna do? You gonna tell him how
You– dawg, this shit is disgustin', bro look
Are you gonna tell him how
It was all an angle, that you had a better style?
Or are you gonna be like, "No, I was saying rub a bunch of nut in a little girl's pussy. You get it now?"
I mean, are you gonna tell her 'bout
The name you dropped they had to edit out
Was all to get the crowd yellin' loud like, "I couldn't let 'em down."
Bitch, settle down!
This motherfucker's so extra he had premed' rebuttals in his wedding vows
Fuckboy, you disrespected the fam' of the man that paid you
And that's traits I never envy
Guess you feel comfortable bitin' the hand that feeds you
'Cause your plate was never empty
White boy, yo, if someone were to get smacked or murdered
He'd be the first rapper to get 5-0
Which is perfect, 'cause on Smack, against Murda he's the first rapper to get 5-0'd
You lost five rounds, one battle
Before that you was livin' the dream dude, shit
First instance that he lose, quit
Shit, I'll have you relivin' the things Mook spit
You got 50'd so hard even I was like "G-G-G-G-G-Unit!"
Since then, he can't find any peace
Haunted by the number 50 like it's the sign of the beast
He hates there's 50 states, avoids speed signs in the streets
Even the word "SO" gets a gasp...and then a sigh of relief
Bruh, you the type to lose and then throw a sissy/hissy fit
Lost to Ness singin' "Doo Wah Ditty"
And let down the city when he quit
But I heard he's perfect on a business venture with
'Cause this little prissy bitch
Will give you majority shares to avoid a 50/50 split
Deep down, I can see, it's killin' you
He can't live this lifestyle stress
I'm Kevorkian, he sought me out, he came to die out west
I give him a fully-loaded six shooter
Make him watch that five round mess
Then BOW, lights out, lie down, assisted suicide, now rest
Standing over his body while he lies out stretched
I crack a smile, if you wonderin' why now, guess
Sick humor, empty that six-shooter and what you find out next
Bitch, even after you died, there'll still be five rounds left!
See, I did dirt, sold drugs, got popped for it
You "Spring Fever," sold out, went pop for it
Sesame Street episodes, your pops scored it
This battle, 3-0 even if your pops scored it
[Round 3: Iron Solomon]
How will I explain that to my son? That shit was pretty heavy
I won't have to explain it 'cause…
He understands it pretty good already
And Nikiya's my brother
I love him, that's all I'll say on the subject
Not everything in two grown man's discussions have to be public
I would never trade in my honor just to be famous
Like you when you'se in a dispute with my dude for entertainment
See, you and Pete were "freestyling"
And I had to write to rhyme stronger
Y'all bitches ain't stick with tradition
Y'all was stuck behind the times longer
You just pissed 'cause you didn't weather the transition to this era
I throw chin checkers off of the top and my pen better
The style everybody does now, I'm the inventor
So you got a vendetta just 'cause I'm a trendsetter?
Males shouldn't be jealous, that's a female trait
What, is he mad 'cause I'm eatin' and he look eight/ate?
Why you so angry? To me that sounds like hate
You're mad nice, don't be vexed how I rate (irate)
You worked smarter, I worked harder
Just a difference in intelligence
I stayed relevant without battlin'
You battled your way into irrelevance
I put myself into a nice position 'cause I held onto my convictions
Preparation and opportunity thrive under the right conditions
Aside from our height that's different
You had all the stuff that I was given
How is it my fault you made horrible life decisions?
All of this gripin', bitchin', you're small, your vagina's itchin'
You don't get enough respect, you're not in the right division
Blamin' your losses on The Saurus' hypertension
Conspiracy theories about amusement park height restrictions
Now you losing my attention
Save it for someone who had time to listen
Like an inmate doing life in prison
The real world isn't fair, describe it different, that's science fiction
Focus on what you actually have, not what might be different
At least you are in a league, at least you don't ride the benches
All of us can't be Jordan, you should be a'ight with Pippen
So what, you get a rack for a battle and my price has risen?
Half of these fans would pay all types of chicken
To trade for this life you livin'
How you behave is disgraceful
You're someone they relate to, you should be crazy grateful
A lady's navel, I'm always over this pussy and it made him hateful
While we was playin' dreidel
The rabbis relay this fable 'bout Cain and Abel
They say it's painful
But if your younger brother is jealous he may betray you
You blame God for the way he made you
You blame the fans for the way they rate you
You blame Organik for the way he pays you
I blame your parents for the way he raised you!
Gregory, grow up! Just 'cause you look like a baby
That doesn't mean that that's the way you should be behaving
It's not because we are tall that you look up to us all
It's not your height, it's inside your heart you're disgustingly small
You feel like an infant who hasn't had a real adolescence
'Cause battle rap has helped you to live this sheltered existence
A child star, this guy was so young when he gained fame
His closest friends in life call son by his stage name
You're lackin' all the virtues
From the life experiences a man's suppose to learn through
Like havin' rent to pay or a boss that overworks you
When your self-esteem needs a boost, he's the dude you always turn to
'Cause it's just battle rappers and battle rap fans in your social circle
That's why your ego's inflated, well I'm here to bust balloons
'Cause this bubble you live in is just an extension of your mother's womb
You're stuck somewhere between being a battle rap war vet
And this 31-year-old fetus that hasn't been born yet
Either you're facing your death before taking your first four steps
Or I'm pulling brand new life out of this pussy, get me my forceps!
The crowd's the proud father, watching it all unfurl
And y'all the midwives helping me get this body out to the world
Bishop I told you, dawg
Don't put a shark in a swimming pool with the fish
Now I'm showing y'all the difference between mini poodles and pits
My presence is a present, what I'm giving you is a gift
Wasn't for me, half of these fans would've never knew you exist
And I get it, I get it, being a little dude is a bitch
But it's better to just accept it, those the biggest shoes you can fit
When I first met him I was thinking
"WHOO! This middle schooler can spit."
But we all hoped he'd grow up to be a little cooler than this
[Round 3: Illmaculate]
That round was comedy, but you're not a stand up guy
You ain't Dave Chappelle
You call me a baby, that shit was crazy, well
I just wish that old school style would really age this well
I mean, this is not you, it's a costume
He trains for battles at his home, watchin' 8 Mile ciphers
Favorite app that's on his phone? It's the Steak House finder
He came to Cali to blow smoke, everything I state's wild fire
You might talk sick (toxic) but shit
It's in my blood to break down Iron
Hold up, look we met, Scribble Jam, that was 2004
Two years later, when you battled The Saurus out in New York
2011 or -12 he dropped Monster, went out on a tour
Do the math, bitch, it's 2017 and every match you perform
Has an ad for that same wack-ass album of yours!
Dawg, that shit is trash!
This about to be a casket, not a classic to edit
Like his battle with Diz, just as bad as expected
His rounds were so anti-Semitic, I can't believe he actually said it
But you get half of the credit
You fell off like Dizaster's mustache when he sweated
I mean, here's his whole brand and aesthetic
In a couple adjectives, check it
Bland and grotesque, fat and pathetic
Glasses embedded in gelatinous flesh
Scraggly neck beard, patches connected
Where a jawline can't be detected
I mean, bitch, you contradict yourself every match
I think you're lackin' perspective
Either that or you're bi-polar like a manic depressive
You told Magic, "Quitting is for bitches"
The needle scratched on the record
Like the 4 years he quit were somehow scratched from the record!
I mean, you told Ars pullin' phones out can't be accepted
And you'd never do that to fans, I respect it
Then he threw his phone in the crowd, and knocked out a fan by the exit
I mean, but wait, wait a minute, you pulled your phone out against Magic
Why you actin' pretentious?
No? 6:17, 13:49, 14:04
That's the actual seconds, so the fans can go check it
I guess it's cool for you to have that in possession
Long as they don't happen to catch it
Until the tables are turned like a pass interception
You tried to pull the wool over our eyes, huh?
I adapt with my senses
What the fuck is a sacrificial lamb to the shepard?
I'm the GOAT, silencin' this lamb like Hannibal Lecter
I'll run up in your pad, make you back up and measure
Make your bitch cook crack, see if she crack under pressure
When I turn your house into a trap: that's The Collector
With my Goonies we follow paper like a map to the treasure
So self-driven I fucked around I sold a patent to Tesla
I got you outclassed, I don't need a class or a lecture
To make this white boy cross over, ask the professor
This is practice, I can gas him with half of the effort
I'll do this 'cause I'm bored
With bars on the side to catch a body like an ambulance stretcher
Soon as we begin I put an end to this fool's circle
I'm the alpha omega
Leavin' one set of footprints in the sand in the desert
Takin' his body with me like I traveled to Mecca
Check it, you know what? As far as that Rone title shit
Hold on, let's talk about this, you know what I'm sayin'?
Look, as far as this Rone title shit
I won titles against opponents I was givin' the business to
You have a title at a company
As the kid Daddy had given the business to
I lost a battle, you lost your pride and I know that it's killin' you
'Cause I earned that gold chain
But you were given that silver spoon
See, I live rap, road couches, I've lost for it
Been broke, no rent, couldn't ask pops for it
Pocahontas, Hercules, your pops scored it
This battle 3-0, even if your pops scored it
Time!
The crown only as powerful as the head that it rests on
The chain only as valuable as the neck it extends from
The jewels don't make the man, the man make the jewels glow
And wrapped around this goof's throat
Those karats turn to fool's gold
You was like Kanye, Pat and 'Ganik was Jay-Z and Dame
Saw how thirsty you were to have it and just gave you the chain
If he beat Rone, y'all could've done the coolest 2 Chainz merch
Now y'all stuck tryin' to sell off all them New Chain shirts
But that's what happens when y'all don't take the time to form a champion
One battle, now y'all gotta introduce him as the former champion
But I never thought his rhymes could command this stage
And I still don't think Greg nice: ain't a damn thing changed!
So don't mention a minute more about how many men you tore
It ain't mano a mano, it's miniature vers' the Minotaur
Fuck how many chains and rings that symbolize the wins you wore
There's a difference between how you win awards and how you win a war
He's at home doing hip-hop in Oregon when this kid is bored
I'm from the home of hip-hop's origin, the Apple, this is in our core
You done bit of more than you can chew for dinner, little boy
Got squeezed out the limelight, is that what you bitter for?
You salty 'cause the lemons that life gave you sour
Gettin' served by someone seasoned
My food for thought what they devoured
All you other paupers peeved how the king came to power
I know y'all got somethin' for the kid like a baby shower
But the kid got somethin' for y'all too: baby powder
So I can slap a little self-respect into you hateful cowards
Yo, they pray it's curtains for Iron, can't end this Russian's rule yet
It's Cold War, I got one shot, let's play Russian Roulette
I'll grab the pistol, grip the handle, load a single hollow
Then spin the barrel, make you play Spin the Bottle
The revolver circles 'round to you, kiss the nozzle
Or I put numbers on your head and my shooters hit the lotto
Bitch, why would you skip Apollo just to mix minx with Drago?
It's Iron aficionado, Midget 'Mac can't diss the motto
I back up this bravado, he follow a different model
Everywhere that I go the spotlight on me: Vitiligo
Pride's a tough pill to swallow like OJ in the Branco
Still thinking he can get away…
Wait… the fuck did that little guy go?
Oh shit! He's down there, I didn't even notice
My apologizes, Your Highness, or should I say, "Your Lowness"?
I'm not short-sighted so I couldn't see you down there
But no one could
Maybe that's why every time a show is booked you get overlooked
So this Napoleon Dynamite Complex should not shock me
But boy, you are just beyond cocky for a lawn jockey
See, this false sense of confidence can't mask his embarassment
Since his Hollow/Conceited loses he just had this empty arrogance
But if you'd quit in 2007 you could've gone out a legend
With style and presence, a legacy Greg could be proud of reppin'
But he stuck around for a thousand sessions on whatever album he's about to mention
And most people don't even know it dropped like Tower 7
This clown could never fuck with me: permanent friend zone'd
Easter Island: I will give your whole circle a headstone
I'm just blowin' off some steam, he's tremblin' in his Timberlands
Constantine verse a constant teen
A Gremlin verse the Kremlin
This dude's dumb, if he thought he had a shot with me
The русском! мудак! киска! отвали! сука!
Yeah yeah, surprise surprise, I'll look right inside his eyes
And tell him, "I must break you" and "if he dies he dies."
[Round 1: Illmaculate]
Don't mind that little push
Right now probably you thinkin' this rapper is a punk
And the way you pander to the Russians?
No wonder that angle's gettin' trumped!
I got that "He belongs there", even if I lose vibe
You got that corny "White guys can rap, too" vibe
I got that "Another day at the office, this is what I do" vibe
You got that "Uncomfortable with yourself
So it's uncomfortable watching YOU" vibe
You told Clips, quote: "From Grind Time to Smack, to King of the Dot, I will always give this culture everything that I got."
Wait, like when you battled Mook
And the whole world seen that you flopped?
And you disappeared for four years—what, you think we forgot?!
We ain't hear a peep, not a song, not a leak, not a drop
Nothin' on IG, not a Tweet, we all started to think we was blocked
You quit hip-hop, let me get this shit right
When he comes back, what type of shit does this kid write?
He calls Day, Diz, Ars', and Clips "culture vultures", which just doesn't sit right
'Cause you wear rap like a costume, hung it up after the big fight
Now you tryna dust it off and put it on…but it just doesn't fit right
How you have the nerve to call THEM vultures?
I guess do what you do if it works
But you know cheater's guilt, when you start assumin' the worst
And accusin' a person of doin' you dirty
'Cause you the one doin' the dirt?
See, what you wrote about them was really about you
And those are feelings you project
Calling a black man a vulture in this culture
That's discriminate at best
In this house of hip-hop, you came in it as a guest
And disrespectin' the residences with those ignorant attempts
Only showcases that you're unaware of the privilege you possess
You know why? 'Cause this is not you, it's a costume
I put my life in this, if this don't work out? That's it
If this don't work out for you? It's cool – your dad's rich
I mean, you can afford to lose, Iron, you can afford to quit
Slow it do– you're a bitch!
This is not you, it's a costume
Bring up a loss from back in the day
Against Ars I was trash, what can I actually say?
But I ain't quit, I hit the gym, started poundin' them weights
Then I hopped back in this ring and made a classic with K!
You? Left, Randy Johnson: throwin' fast ones over the plate
Came back, Kenny Powers: flabby and out of shape
You left like Larry Bird leavin' Titletown
Came back like…Dennis Rodman in the bridal gown
You left… thinkin' you was Jordan with his tongue out
Came back…lookin' like Jordan in the dugout
Washed up, past your peak, was at the top 'til you got a loss
So animated, the conclusion I honestly gotta draw
You're like them cartoons when they step off the cliff and pause
And now's the moment you look down
And see you've already fallen off!
You quit rap, came back, been stuck on the same level
Game demo, get hit, magic bullet, paid special
Faceoff, tape deck you
Lift off, space vessel
Get hit, straight edge you
Twist guts, make pretzels
Press Iron, weight bench you
Drum solo, spray metal
String him up, play Cello
Stomp on him, bass pedal
Scream loud, talk shit – get popped for it
Rich boy, nice things – thank your pops for it
Little Mermaid soundtrack – your pops scored it
This battle, 3-0 – even if your pops scored it
[Round 2: Iron Solomon]
You can try to convince these people
You have some insight if you wanna
But you know what the shit's like
Through a kid's eyes seeing trauma
Every midnight, waking up to the drama
Defending my mama got me in fistfights with my father
See, when there's hate in your heart for the people that love you
There might be light at the end
But it's hard to see through the tunnel
The real ones know money is just one piece of the puzzle
You really think poverty is the only way for people to struggle?
Well, I'd like to give a thankyou to Illmaculate's career
For making this my least viewed battle of the year
Yo, and shout out to Kyle Gray, Avocado's great
The GOAT, a fact we cannot debate
He's so dope he even got y'all watchin' tapes of him watchin' tapes
Watch the tapes, you'll see Kyle puttin' Greg in his proper place
Cause when a player cannot compete
He should hit the sideline and just commentate
See, I'm a different food group from the Illmac's and The Saurus's
Don't compare me to them two foods, it's apples and oranges
You hate the association but did it all together, times two
Webster: what you wrote to go with thesaurus is what defines you
And that's what you can't stand
But it's too damn bad
You're just a backup singer in a two-man band
And like everybody who befriends you, I used to respect you
'Til I caught you talkin' shit online
And had to call you up and G check you
You need to be set straight
A man should address complaints to his friend's face
Not on no fuckin' Internet in front of fans while they spectate
If we were eye to eye when we said what we said, great!
I'm from New York, as long as it's direct we respect hate
So bitch, this fist for Greg's face with a knuckle for each feature
Make your eyes roll around in your skull like a speed reader
Stallone in the beef freezer, holdin' a meat cleaver
Street sweeper, suited up with the mask like a bee keeper
You was the big fish in this pond but we see deeper
You can't run with the wolves 'cause you only the sheep's leader
The bars you go to war with ain't even unique either
The Saurus is the original you're just a re-Peter
You see, Peter is like Michael Jackson and he's Bieber
Throwin' temper tantrums 'cause no one's a believer
But would y'all wanna chill with Illmaculate? Me neither
Ridin' around Portland, gangster leanin' to Pete Seeger
Doin' craft beer keg stands with underage Greg fans
In Birkenstocks and sweatbands
Bumpin' knockoff Grateful Dead bands
I'll get you pissed in this round without a bed pan
Ill's married to the game, I'll always be the best man
See, life's a bitch, go wine her and dine her
I just treat her like shit, slide inside her vaginer
Iron a fighter, eye of the tiger, I'm climbin' higher and higher
You stuck underground 'cause you look like you're a miner/minor
You peaked in your prepubescence and just never got better
You gotta be the unluckiest leprechaun ever
But in the Grind Time era he was the nicest motherfucker spittin'
In the uh… Northwestern, Greater Portland Area subdivision
Fast forward to The Saurus in a casino countin' up his winnin'
And Saul is in the office makin' paper like Dunder Mifflin
And Illmac the clown is standin' proud
In his daddy's baggiest hand-me-downs
Lookin' like Manny Devito or tranny Pacquiao
But your battle style's out of fashion now
And the Illmaculate hype's dead
It's the only skill you've developed
What do you have in your life, Greg?
Beyond this 9th grade mind state, still thinkin' you'll live forever
You just a high school dropout who never got his shit together
You're a super-duper-senior who lost all his cool demeanor
Takin' freshman to the prom and can't tell he's a loser either
Or the class clown who's a grad now
Comin' back down to his frat house to get pass out drun–
That's college shit, you wouldn't nothin' 'bout that now
So don't worry 'bout how this battle with me goes tonight
'Cause the day that you turned 30 you got 3-0'd by life!
[Round 2: Illmaculate]
I like how you talked about Ruin Your Day and us watchin' the tape
Find your bitch, she fuck around and get money shots in the face
Triple homicide, I catch a homi today
You gettin' bodied on tape, then you gettin' bodied on Watch when I watch it with Avocado and Chase!
This is not you, it's a costume
See, he learned to play this character
When his dad was doin' movie's though
You are not a rapper, just a theater kid with access to a studio
You was in there gettin' down your mean voice
Workin' on your rap punches
Practicin' against your dad's puppets
With your mom makin' sack lunches
Shit, lookin' back, when I rewind it, how can I keep quiet?
I watched you reuse bars for years before rappers were pre-writin'
So this is for every battle you recycled
When we was actually freestylin'
The fans look up to you, you made that pedestal your home
Recycle your bars before YouTube so they never woulda known
Talk about my legacy? Cool, let's explore your own
Gettin' credit you ain't deserve: that's a predatory loan
You went into every battle with an edge
I go into every battle with a straight one
Carve the word "privilege" into his flesh
So he remembers where he came from
Yeah, I called you out with no bars, nothin'
Fuck the props, I don't need a gold star from it
All I know is fans request it, this ho starts duckin'
And wants no parts of it
See me in the street and folks start runnin' like Omar's comin'
Hold up, true or false: you told Arsonal you would bust a nut on his daughter's baby wipes
Make him rub it in her pussy next time he change her diaps?
True or false?
[Iron] True
[Illmac] What are you– What about when your daughter watches that second round?
[Iron] I don't have a daughter
[Illmac] You don't have a daughter? A son, even better
What are you gonna tell your son
When he watches that second round?
What? You gonna tell him how
It was all an angle, that you had a better style?
I mean what are you gonna do? You gonna tell him how
You– dawg, this shit is disgustin', bro look
Are you gonna tell him how
It was all an angle, that you had a better style?
Or are you gonna be like, "No, I was saying rub a bunch of nut in a little girl's pussy. You get it now?"
I mean, are you gonna tell her 'bout
The name you dropped they had to edit out
Was all to get the crowd yellin' loud like, "I couldn't let 'em down."
Bitch, settle down!
This motherfucker's so extra he had premed' rebuttals in his wedding vows
Fuckboy, you disrespected the fam' of the man that paid you
And that's traits I never envy
Guess you feel comfortable bitin' the hand that feeds you
'Cause your plate was never empty
White boy, yo, if someone were to get smacked or murdered
He'd be the first rapper to get 5-0
Which is perfect, 'cause on Smack, against Murda he's the first rapper to get 5-0'd
You lost five rounds, one battle
Before that you was livin' the dream dude, shit
First instance that he lose, quit
Shit, I'll have you relivin' the things Mook spit
You got 50'd so hard even I was like "G-G-G-G-G-Unit!"
Since then, he can't find any peace
Haunted by the number 50 like it's the sign of the beast
He hates there's 50 states, avoids speed signs in the streets
Even the word "SO" gets a gasp...and then a sigh of relief
Bruh, you the type to lose and then throw a sissy/hissy fit
Lost to Ness singin' "Doo Wah Ditty"
And let down the city when he quit
But I heard he's perfect on a business venture with
'Cause this little prissy bitch
Will give you majority shares to avoid a 50/50 split
Deep down, I can see, it's killin' you
He can't live this lifestyle stress
I'm Kevorkian, he sought me out, he came to die out west
I give him a fully-loaded six shooter
Make him watch that five round mess
Then BOW, lights out, lie down, assisted suicide, now rest
Standing over his body while he lies out stretched
I crack a smile, if you wonderin' why now, guess
Sick humor, empty that six-shooter and what you find out next
Bitch, even after you died, there'll still be five rounds left!
See, I did dirt, sold drugs, got popped for it
You "Spring Fever," sold out, went pop for it
Sesame Street episodes, your pops scored it
This battle, 3-0 even if your pops scored it
[Round 3: Iron Solomon]
How will I explain that to my son? That shit was pretty heavy
I won't have to explain it 'cause…
He understands it pretty good already
And Nikiya's my brother
I love him, that's all I'll say on the subject
Not everything in two grown man's discussions have to be public
I would never trade in my honor just to be famous
Like you when you'se in a dispute with my dude for entertainment
See, you and Pete were "freestyling"
And I had to write to rhyme stronger
Y'all bitches ain't stick with tradition
Y'all was stuck behind the times longer
You just pissed 'cause you didn't weather the transition to this era
I throw chin checkers off of the top and my pen better
The style everybody does now, I'm the inventor
So you got a vendetta just 'cause I'm a trendsetter?
Males shouldn't be jealous, that's a female trait
What, is he mad 'cause I'm eatin' and he look eight/ate?
Why you so angry? To me that sounds like hate
You're mad nice, don't be vexed how I rate (irate)
You worked smarter, I worked harder
Just a difference in intelligence
I stayed relevant without battlin'
You battled your way into irrelevance
I put myself into a nice position 'cause I held onto my convictions
Preparation and opportunity thrive under the right conditions
Aside from our height that's different
You had all the stuff that I was given
How is it my fault you made horrible life decisions?
All of this gripin', bitchin', you're small, your vagina's itchin'
You don't get enough respect, you're not in the right division
Blamin' your losses on The Saurus' hypertension
Conspiracy theories about amusement park height restrictions
Now you losing my attention
Save it for someone who had time to listen
Like an inmate doing life in prison
The real world isn't fair, describe it different, that's science fiction
Focus on what you actually have, not what might be different
At least you are in a league, at least you don't ride the benches
All of us can't be Jordan, you should be a'ight with Pippen
So what, you get a rack for a battle and my price has risen?
Half of these fans would pay all types of chicken
To trade for this life you livin'
How you behave is disgraceful
You're someone they relate to, you should be crazy grateful
A lady's navel, I'm always over this pussy and it made him hateful
While we was playin' dreidel
The rabbis relay this fable 'bout Cain and Abel
They say it's painful
But if your younger brother is jealous he may betray you
You blame God for the way he made you
You blame the fans for the way they rate you
You blame Organik for the way he pays you
I blame your parents for the way he raised you!
Gregory, grow up! Just 'cause you look like a baby
That doesn't mean that that's the way you should be behaving
It's not because we are tall that you look up to us all
It's not your height, it's inside your heart you're disgustingly small
You feel like an infant who hasn't had a real adolescence
'Cause battle rap has helped you to live this sheltered existence
A child star, this guy was so young when he gained fame
His closest friends in life call son by his stage name
You're lackin' all the virtues
From the life experiences a man's suppose to learn through
Like havin' rent to pay or a boss that overworks you
When your self-esteem needs a boost, he's the dude you always turn to
'Cause it's just battle rappers and battle rap fans in your social circle
That's why your ego's inflated, well I'm here to bust balloons
'Cause this bubble you live in is just an extension of your mother's womb
You're stuck somewhere between being a battle rap war vet
And this 31-year-old fetus that hasn't been born yet
Either you're facing your death before taking your first four steps
Or I'm pulling brand new life out of this pussy, get me my forceps!
The crowd's the proud father, watching it all unfurl
And y'all the midwives helping me get this body out to the world
Bishop I told you, dawg
Don't put a shark in a swimming pool with the fish
Now I'm showing y'all the difference between mini poodles and pits
My presence is a present, what I'm giving you is a gift
Wasn't for me, half of these fans would've never knew you exist
And I get it, I get it, being a little dude is a bitch
But it's better to just accept it, those the biggest shoes you can fit
When I first met him I was thinking
"WHOO! This middle schooler can spit."
But we all hoped he'd grow up to be a little cooler than this
[Round 3: Illmaculate]
That round was comedy, but you're not a stand up guy
You ain't Dave Chappelle
You call me a baby, that shit was crazy, well
I just wish that old school style would really age this well
I mean, this is not you, it's a costume
He trains for battles at his home, watchin' 8 Mile ciphers
Favorite app that's on his phone? It's the Steak House finder
He came to Cali to blow smoke, everything I state's wild fire
You might talk sick (toxic) but shit
It's in my blood to break down Iron
Hold up, look we met, Scribble Jam, that was 2004
Two years later, when you battled The Saurus out in New York
2011 or -12 he dropped Monster, went out on a tour
Do the math, bitch, it's 2017 and every match you perform
Has an ad for that same wack-ass album of yours!
Dawg, that shit is trash!
This about to be a casket, not a classic to edit
Like his battle with Diz, just as bad as expected
His rounds were so anti-Semitic, I can't believe he actually said it
But you get half of the credit
You fell off like Dizaster's mustache when he sweated
I mean, here's his whole brand and aesthetic
In a couple adjectives, check it
Bland and grotesque, fat and pathetic
Glasses embedded in gelatinous flesh
Scraggly neck beard, patches connected
Where a jawline can't be detected
I mean, bitch, you contradict yourself every match
I think you're lackin' perspective
Either that or you're bi-polar like a manic depressive
You told Magic, "Quitting is for bitches"
The needle scratched on the record
Like the 4 years he quit were somehow scratched from the record!
I mean, you told Ars pullin' phones out can't be accepted
And you'd never do that to fans, I respect it
Then he threw his phone in the crowd, and knocked out a fan by the exit
I mean, but wait, wait a minute, you pulled your phone out against Magic
Why you actin' pretentious?
No? 6:17, 13:49, 14:04
That's the actual seconds, so the fans can go check it
I guess it's cool for you to have that in possession
Long as they don't happen to catch it
Until the tables are turned like a pass interception
You tried to pull the wool over our eyes, huh?
I adapt with my senses
What the fuck is a sacrificial lamb to the shepard?
I'm the GOAT, silencin' this lamb like Hannibal Lecter
I'll run up in your pad, make you back up and measure
Make your bitch cook crack, see if she crack under pressure
When I turn your house into a trap: that's The Collector
With my Goonies we follow paper like a map to the treasure
So self-driven I fucked around I sold a patent to Tesla
I got you outclassed, I don't need a class or a lecture
To make this white boy cross over, ask the professor
This is practice, I can gas him with half of the effort
I'll do this 'cause I'm bored
With bars on the side to catch a body like an ambulance stretcher
Soon as we begin I put an end to this fool's circle
I'm the alpha omega
Leavin' one set of footprints in the sand in the desert
Takin' his body with me like I traveled to Mecca
Check it, you know what? As far as that Rone title shit
Hold on, let's talk about this, you know what I'm sayin'?
Look, as far as this Rone title shit
I won titles against opponents I was givin' the business to
You have a title at a company
As the kid Daddy had given the business to
I lost a battle, you lost your pride and I know that it's killin' you
'Cause I earned that gold chain
But you were given that silver spoon
See, I live rap, road couches, I've lost for it
Been broke, no rent, couldn't ask pops for it
Pocahontas, Hercules, your pops scored it
This battle 3-0, even if your pops scored it
Time!
( King of the Dot )
www.ChordsAZ.com