URLtv, Hitman Holla, Cortez - Cortez vs Hitman Holla lyrics

[URLtv, Hitman Holla, Cortez - Cortez vs Hitman Holla lyrics]

It's kinda hard to spit water
But my verses fluid
I'm a beat Cortez but I'm mad
CauseI ain't the first to do it
Had my own lane goin
Why the fuck would you merge into it?
You got some wins, but we only remember them
Loses, Hitman Vs Ewing Patrick that is
What's a 50 cal to a
Slingshot? My whole team pop
You fly as bird 'til we shoot
You down like the restaurant
Ain't no telling where his Wings Stop
New York cats like "That country nigga mean
Ock!" between blocks
Catch me where the thieves is at
I needs a stack, I'll leave him flat
Squeeze the Mac fight you your team
And whoever in the crowd that want it I
'm like Stephen Jack He
Searching for a lifeline
Too bad I ain't that Regis cat
New York wanna shut me down
Y'all need more than that Revis cat
So don't start, cause for the dead prez
I'll spark and leave this man dead
You just a Mexican that rep New York
But lose when it matter the most
You Marksanchez that bitch you never wit
You stressing on that female
Login on to her twitter page
Checking all her emails
Calling Math Hoffa like "Let me give you
The details she fuck wit Holla now
You know from the S T-L
He rap and I rap but the difference is
He sell
She chose him over me and told me to Be Well"
Fuckin Female! Caught him outside
I told him "Bitch nigga Man up!"
He was like "Man" I said, "Man what?!"
He was like "Nah Holla I'm
Just saying" "You saying what?"
Remind you of moms coming
From the grocery store
The way we put them cans up
I'm all for the static game
It's a mathematic game grab the flame
I slide up on him like baggage claim
Fuck if you let us
(lettuce) I'm staring at them carrot
Aiming at his onion
Won't stop til his cabbage hang Tricks
Trix are for kids and this
Nigga playing rabbit games
But, it's not fun
On my son Bugs Bunny couldn't dodge
The shit that's comingout this shotgun
I'm a packed house room rocker
You a McDonalds broom mopper GET THE DOOR!
You a room watcher I know you
Brooklyn niggas hurt right now
But, you gone stand right hurr
And watch me chew him
Hoffa I fuck wit niggas on they last strike
You fuck wit mad dikes
Get outta line once, get blast twice
Go head swing, it'll be a fast fight
Cause, I'm a duck and 1-2-3 him
I'm Trinidad nice ain’t ma fault
I'm a fuckin savage and I'm
Cut from another fabric
Once again this is not a classic
He 2 steps under good 266 is the only
Time you here a nigga say Hitman average
Ball Game!

Shout out to E rilla, that's my nigga!
He just came off from a minor bid
He was sitting in that cell listening to BIG
And can't believe that he ain't write
His shit I sent a kite
I'll battle Hitman Holla
He said cuzzo that name sound
Like he quite the bitch fuck it
You'll be left for dead for even thinking
You have a right to live
That's that real shit, you a gateway drug
I need that real piff
You a stepping stone caiie if I
Smoke him I'll get higher
But, you just a middle man
Smack introduce me to big buyers
Like Rex or Mook cause if I battled
Them I swear I'd be coming off
But Smack gave me him
Fuck! did i do something wrong?!
I mean Smack you my nigga
I get the nine I'll clap ya
But let's revert back to my roots
Cause I'm a Grind Time rapper
I be rhyming all silly bro, mhmm
I be rhyming all my syllables
Uhuh, but I'm versatile with verses
I'm not X-Factor
I learned the ropes I will never choke
To a rapping lizard with Urkel's nose
Smack, pop shots, work the 4, everybody claps
The show's done, curtain closed! Grind Time!
You wear lipstick with a perfect pose
Fist on his hip where he likes to
Switch when he works the poles move forward
Huge shows and the worst is close
Watching YouTube
Two dudes and you jerk 'em both
Smack! Nigga you ain't ever
Squirt the chrome pussy
You wouldn't press pounds on a working phone
This nigga's washed up
Throw him in a nursing home
Stroller or a wheelchair
Drooling on a nurses clothes
I just turned URL into a
Grind Time circus show
Shout out to Grind Time! In a
Minute that did enough for me
Y'all gave me 3 minutes
How the fuck you gon fuck with me?
Your broad give brain but every day
She look dumb to me
You thinking that we even, I'm
Show you I'm one up, see
His broad's a jump
Legs swinging off the chandelier
He got in Ohio
And she was fucking every Cavalier
Yeah who is this nigga? I
Was searching for days
And met the nigga that did Aye Verb's waves
And he gave me the scoop on this nigga
And Tony Yayo won't want nothing
To do with this nigga
Once I Fat Joe, Cam'Ron
And start Ja Ruling this nigga
Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait
I ain't through with this nigga
Bitch, you did a track with Murphy Lee
You ain't cool with the nigga
He charged you for that verse bitch
Who would've figured
Every time I YouTube and I Googled this nigga
All see is footage of Yung I
I I doing this nigga

They call Hitman when they want a nigga dead
Just some shit Holla do
You got a lot of fuckin loses
I guess losing don't bother you
I know he mad, the whole
East coast know I'm bad
Y’all saw the footage i'm like a stripper
I came here to show my ass
Pause I ain’t worried bout that
Flow he has I ain’t
Worried ‘bout that dough he has
Cortez a candy rapper
(wrapper) we all know he trash
I ain't even wanna battle
I had plans to show his ass
That I'll smoke his ass
Shake hands with Con, Shake hands with
Da Don, get to him, choke his ass
Dandelion style, dig him, plant him
Grow his ass
That X must be a Factor better run Miles
I'll Calicoe his ass catch him at a show
Pull up on some Honda shit
Bombs and shit, 9s and flips
With two Llama clips
Hop on stage while he performing
On some Lil Mama shit
You ain't know I was this sick?
You Mexican dip shit
Get your pelvis broke trying to come
At me on some hip shit
This matchup was silly
I'm spazzing on his nerdy ass
You never saw a murda, never did a murder
Why he repping Murda Ave?
Leave him at a fountain, at a park
Take a birdie bath and I heard he ass
Question: Who believe in all this crime shit?
Food for thought
We don't feed into that non sense
They call me Hitman
Read between the fine prints
This weapon not on safety
It ain’t John Lynch
Night vision came with a scope
See behind tents Michael Jackson
Motown Glove, you can't find prints (Prince)
When they say the best they say Holla
Sign Stitched i won't lose
You wouldn't beat me with a time glitch
My rhymes sick, you ain't achieving that
You don't see Gorilla and Bamboo
Where the Cheetahs at
You don't see the Tigers and Lions
Out where the Zebras at
You just see Gazelles by the Deers
Leave it that or leave it rap
For he fuck around and won't leave attached
Head there, neck there, shoulders there
Knees back after this battle
Who's checking for where he's at?
Soon as I landed New York
City was yelling "He's back!"
I'm at the veteran's home
You know your great granny Mable
I caught her in the kitchen
Give a fuck if she disabled
You da thought she was a tip the
Way I left her on the table nurse came in
I'm like "Why you tryna save her?
She 96 and a half, I'm doing the favor"
Keeping her alive
Y’all spending too much paper
Let me finish her and y'all
Can thank me later
Holla you want, Holla you got
Your wish was granted, i'm the best damnit
Fuck planet to planet
You wouldn't win this battle in Spanish
Portalito De Ball, translation: BALL GAME!

It's gon be a long day
You played the wrong game, today
You screaming out "Ball Game!" well bitch
I'm the rain delay
And since you ball I gotta
Bar that'll make your day
Watch this Mysonne
When I SHOOT! You'll fade away
Matter fact it's not Hoops when you breakaway
Let's go behind your back
Tell your coach change your play
I knew he would inquire about my losses
But Holla you don't know me
To be great you must grow
See I'm similar to Kobe
He only averaged 7 his first season
We all saw the potential
He wasn't quite there yet
But we saw something special
So like Kobe I studied the game tapes
Now I'm the man to beat
You disagree? I treat you like Shaq
And put this man in Heat
But come to think of it
You're nothing like Shaq to me
More like Pat to me, yeah you're in the game
But, you're standing on Patrick's
Knees bang! bang!
Let's see if you can stand defeat the feet
Curse out the god
These niggas will blast for me (Blasphemy)
And hit everything from your stomach
And your back behind it
I'll leave you crooked with a
Bullet in your back alignment
You lose your mind? I bet you
This Mac will find it
Clear out thoughts and leave
Hitman absent minded
So once I align with them lasers
This bitch will get the singing
Usher ain't the only nigga
Signing them papers
Yeah, I’ma have to with the cook up
Master P with the hook up
Catholic Priest was screaming
Out "blasphemy!" when he look up
They'll be laughing but this ass whooping
Is actually for the lookers
You ain't, half of me, you after me
You the wackest we even hooked up
And you bitchin to who? I
Mean Dolarz left you broke
I bet you couldn't get Rich in the Lou’
So once I get to bitch smacking
Y'all will get a whole clip early
Matinee Dagger to his scalp
Peel back half his brain
Iverson with this bomb
Ain't no chance I'll pass away
I got this anger in the pit of my chest
And since the Midwest sleeping I'ma put
It to rest Lux beat Miles
Hollow destroyed Big T
I'll man handle Holla
Verb's about to be mince meat
So what the fuck is a Midwest movement When
New York's done trampled through
The Midwest union? Motherfuck a Calicoe
We keep big Mac's shooting click clack
The kick back give my wrist bad bruises
Bang! bang! bang! All up in your spinal cord
Run up on him hooded
Throw a bullet in that smile of yours
If you pass these two semi's I'll
Embrace it with this final four
Caught him like the net, now you’re dead
It's your final loss
HK get to tumbling, HK aim straight, tops
Get to hovering CSI, black bags
Box get the covering
Nah, that's not enough for him
Sneak in the morgue, drag him out the freezer
Ice pick his belly til
I'm stabbing every feature
Stick a time bomb by his
Bladder where his spleen his
Then I (wig?) the back up scooper
Detonate the bomb on site at your funeral!

Cortez rep Myrtle Ave
But they call it Murda Ave
First thing you think of when
You hear Murda Ave is dirty grass, 30 mags
Shotty pumps, body slumps, shade and crumbs
Niggas walking round with hanging guns but my
Up north connect told me Murda Ave
Ain’t seen a actual murder since 81'
And you ain't even from there
You from a hood called Utica
Wherever the hell that is
But it sounds real beautiful fucking moron
Chill for they find you where the shore rise
Cause where I'm from
You couldn't walk they streets of my
City during a tour guide
I got an infection flow, I'm the next to blow
You never stood a chance my nigga
Your whole section know It's time for a
Change and Holla got an election flow
You ain't a New York Giant
But acting stupid like Plaxico
Talking birdies
(Burress) til I wave the eagle
And leave a Hole-in-One
And forensics will really find
Cortez in the Golf gulf of Mexico
I'm in his hood carting em down
I ride on Texas slow
Like, "What up Pa! Nice necklace yo!" You rap
Like you tryna get info outta me
You got a detective flow
Me, I keep the metal and chrome
Better warn your fam cause I'll
Pop up at your relative home I'm at his
Granny house like Knock-Knock
She look out like "Oh, no nigga
I know who you is Cortez don't live her
And I don't watch none of his kids" fa sho
I go down the block to
His auntie house like Knock-Knock!
She say, "Who is it?" I say "Hitman!" She
Look out, start waving, crack the door
I BLOAW! Made my way in
She said "Ah Holla don't cut me!"
Ain't nobody finna slice you
Bitch we brought them K's in
Where's Cortez? I stared her in the face then
Picked up the K then
Grabbed her by her braids then
Made the hoe tell
(Hotel) like she work at the Days Inn
Then I heard a "WAHN!" Her
Son was in the playpen
I was like "for real?" shit was so amazing
Having flashbacks it put me in a rage when
Picked him up upside down by his J's then
Took him out back
I thought about his age when
I tossed him in the kennel with a pit
Left him caged in
Let the dog rip thru his tissue
Paper mache then
Then I put theyou know what
Enough with all this cold shit
Cause on the real
You ain't worth none of your old shit
They took me to Brooklyn and
You don't control shit you freezing cold
I'm hotter than what your stove get
When he rap, you see
Clear skies, great courage, great marriage
When I rap, you hear 40 cals, 45's
Shotty blasts i would say ball game
But I'ma end this another way
Just so the niggas that’s
Watching ain't gotta ask
What was the outcome of
This battle? Body Bag! Ball Game!

He came with Spanish jokes
But, if y'all don't know
That old gangsta shit's
Inspired by Tony and Monolo You see
I promised Murda Mook I would murder you
First 2 rounds I switched it
Up, you know, showed that I'm
Versatile Spit a little bars
Showed y'all that I'm lyrical and worth
It too But this time, round 3, let's get
Personal I saw you at Fight Klub
We all seen him took an L
You got fed a remedy
(RemyD) for thinking you was
Sick as hell But
Your bars, they weren't sick as hell
You was looking sick as hell He
Had his shirt off with his
Big beads Ribs touching you're a pimp
Squeak Don't that make sense?
Cause he never looked good with a Big T
But fuck that nigga cause after this
Cock back and get the ratchet
When I'm done with him
Smack, get his contact, i'll get him after
Drop back, get him smacked Then drive pass
Sit in spit it backwards
Then I get a long bat to
Get him batted When I'm
Done y'all gon think a car
Crash hit him after
Or a bomb shriveled his ass up or
That Tarzan picked him back up
Swung him off a long bridge to the wrong path
Where a strong Ram ripped his back up UGLY!
What labels wanna market your face? Making a
Million moves but getting no whurr
Your carrur is Target in place
I mean what is he?
A mixed breed of Chris Reeves
If he turned black
With a twist weave and a turnt cap
Yelling Big B's, Big B's
Oh it's them Bloods you repping
You Manny Pacquio
Nigga your blood's in question
Since you the Hitman
Bitch I got one suggestion bang!
When I shoot ya soul going in one direction
I roll with real su woops nigga, we be goons
He ain't homie, but tonight it's like we see
(C) food
So if I get the banger, cock the 9 back
Pop his spine
How you gon stop this 5, chill, chill
Stop it 5 I'll kill him!
Dead him with a toe tag
And I'm real disrespectful
I'll smack you with your own flag
I bet he cease up once I buck two rounds
Let's switch sets on him
Bitch what you wanna do now?
Cause the nigga's that I know that throw
Up them sets died for they colors
You pussy! My nigga you wouldn't
Die for your mother!
You wouldn't rob for your brother, if you do
Get the fifth right now
Them niggas kilt your cousin
You sit right down, we just look at him
You acting like a bitch right now!

Interpretation for


Add Interpretation

Add extended interpretation

If you know what the artist is talking about, can read between the lines, and know the history of the song, you can add interpretation to the lyrics. After checking by our editors, we will add it as the official interpretation of the song!

Latest added interpretations to lyrics

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #
Interpret