URLtv, Math Hoffa, Cortez, Ill Will, Rum Nitty - Cortez & Math Hoffa vs. Rum Nitty & Ill Will lyrics

Caught 'Tez when the Mag' sparkin'
Will, I got the scope on this nigga
Tell yo' BITCH- set up the jaw plan
Deuce deuce
Vienna Sausage: you get the small cans
Nigga I'm good in any hood
I be chillin' wherever
13 in the coldest winters
Had that shit in my sweater

Caught his ass, body bag: nigga
Give me the shovel (GO)
Get the biggest Beretta (GO)
You can get it whenever (GO)
Somethin' loaded shut down the room
Math? Cortez strapped? I highly doubt
If Cort'll point it

Public defender: I highly doubt
If Cort' appointed
I'm at Cortez mama house like-
You press charges on niggas
How you come up with this?
I guess Will was really in Rum
Crib givin' his mother dick

Oh, you not gonna give him a pound?
We came with them choppers: it ain't a bike
Dig me? Cause you goin' home
Stuffed in a bag like white Henney
Go 'head, bitch you get in yo' bag?
See what the purse like
I fucked your moms on the first night
If son pop
He gettin' e'rything: that's his birthright

The grip'll dig Will in the
Mud: that's a dirt bike
Bang hammers, silence the room
Before he throw a sentence
You can block a punch
But them shell cases no defense why?
I'm pushin' 80 on Will like a home attendant

Same hammers twinnin' on him
I'm lettin' four, sale on his lawn
I can own holmes razor to his ear to his
Mouth like the old phone
Tell me what it hurts like rental car

But wait til round three
There's some shit we gotta speak about
But, I always thought you was a ho ass nigga
You couldn't drop one 30? Dose proved that
Bullets hit Cor' and come out
Another man like Bobby Johnson

You get smashed in seconds
When I blast a weapon
357, 45, deuce deuce and the Mac-11
Einstein Theory
These numbers gon' lead Math to Heaven
I've waved caps my whole
Career like Memphis Bleek
YOU are not a problem

Fuck that
On the real my nigga I think Smack
And Beas' tryin' to play us bro
Fuck who we got
Any Ill Will towards Rum and Ill homi!
You wanna try us tonight? You must
Be high as a kite
Like these guys wanna fight
Nigga I'll knock you both out
Go to your crib and Chris Unbias your wife!

As a matter of fact, Math
What you think his Jamaican plug
Had to say about that?
Me not chat wit a batty man get off me phone"
I solidify my spot with gorillas and
We don't rock wit you niggas
So what we got? Reaches and fuck ya mom jokes
I'm Popeye, give me the spinach
I'll make them arms smoke
You could get punched in the
Face tellin' the wrong joke
I let you niggas win this round
Give 'em the wrong choke

Swave you gotta be kiddin'
I hit 'em with the drum
Havoc when that Tommy be spittin'
Let's see if they mob deep
When they prodigy's missin'! Rest in peace

But these pussies just be lyin'
Too close, get butt by the nose like 69in'
This Ill 'matic wettin' everything
Six and Ill Will take
Lives through Memory Lane
Man this shit changed
Flex tears droppin' off Cam'

Now I can adjust
Just keep these niggas out my swing zone
Cause, I drop Rum to
Rock Will like Flintstone
These niggas want my pay grade droppin'
If this shit don't work
It's back to grade A option
When an extension's at your door
It ain't Shenaynay knockin'

Thug nigga, bug in the jack
I think the FEDS on me
Ving Rhames, arm on your
Neck, leakin' your head, jody
Crack Rum top then pour him
Out for my dead homies
Last time I milly-rocked for you niggas
Mook, Rex
Tay Roc: I had to put Dots on you niggas
Show and Shana, more dots
Shooters watchin' you niggas

Yo, and like I said I
Appreciate y'all reachin' out
But round 3's next and there's some
Shit we gotta speak about

Well here's where the shit get tragic

Now what ch'all wanna do?
I mean y'all doin' all this shit
Dancin' around i'm Math Hoffa, I'm so tough
I make niggas tap dance
You in your 30's still tryin' to
Get stripes like Smack pants

Do three of them thangs!
I heard a rumor that if y'all lose tonight
Math gon' be blindfolded, broomstick
Beat a pinata candy out yo' ass
Bruh! You can't be puttin' your hands
On your bitch like that! Bitch I should-
I brought the Hawk for you niggas
Top, Roc, Brizz

I got more heart than you niggas
Street smarts than you niggas
100 shots and you drop
Pull up, park on you niggas
Cause behind scenes
Niggas really family anyway
Talkin' 'bout you'll rape somebody
Wife like Chris Unbias
You like trannys anyway

I get you focused with the upper
Will, this the real Will
He know, I been had the guns
The rose is for your mother somethin' light
And Nu Nu! Nah, I'm just-

But this is round 3 and there's some
Shit we need to speak about
Last week was Father's Day
Smack, drop the bag, I'm doin' summer classes
I should come with glasses

I'm cuttin' caskets
If I cut him where his fuckin' abs is
If you could run away without your
Other half that'd B motherfuckin' Magic

I'll straight disrespect Rum
The scope, it got a wide eye view
That's for the spectrum his head done
Two Homi's layin' by the platter

Cort' official
Blow the whistle I'm lettin' tips off
Oh you rep the Six
God? Well Drake will do the Crip walk
Mask off, ain't no future
I'm lettin' sticks talk
The clip broke I had to take the Maggie
I'll punch him in the air

But how you smokin' this OG
With this plate of arie?
I'll make sure today, you sleep for good Will
He branded you cheap and these bullets free
You Goodwill
I'll hang a rapper over the balcony
I'll Suge Will drop 'em next

We whooped these niggas ass
For that top-tier money!