URLtv, Geechi Gotti, B Magic - Geechi Gotti vs. B Magic lyrics
[URLtv, Geechi Gotti, B Magic - Geechi Gotti vs. B Magic lyrics]
Man, you choked your way outta
Being the GOAT - sad but true
Can’t nobody be mad but you
I mean, dawg, you was Top 3
Imagine how we feel seein’ one of the best
Punchers struggle wit’ his speech like Ali
Golly, back then, you was the man, though
Now those punches barely hit Orlando
Magic, every battle you’ve been on bunk shit
Stumblin’ over bars like a drunk bitch
Drum clip, shit spray about 80 rounds
Or the 30, ‘cause I’m better wit’ the
Sticks than Devon Miles
I can hear ‘em now, fuckin’ wannabes
40, extension longer than the quarantines
Jordan memes: leave a legend
Wit’ the sad face
Glock so new, the shit squeak like bad brakes
Keep thinkin’ you safer at home
I ain’t tryna hear that shit
That just mean it’s cool to shoot the crib
Up - I know everybody in that bitch
I’m a real-ass Crip
I’m just here to bring the streets back
Fuck the fame, they can keep that
The option, though, without rap
I would be back slidin’ like
A junkie that relapsed
I keep straps, I’m known for violence
Pistol-whippin’ without a driver’s license
I’m defiant boy, I be done slapped you
I been solid
You can see I’m ten toes like Jesus sandal
You gon’ get the team dismantled
You too fake annoying like toothaches
Nitty, I don’t think I can fit in or gel
(Orajel) wit’ this nigga
Shoot a shell at this nigga
You ain’t shit to me
The URL booked this to verify
How yo’ Crippin’ be
Can’t you tell the URL staff just like Moses
The way the staff is here to split the C
(sea)? Man, you can’t get wit’ me
And yo’ last battle proved
That you can’t fuck
Wit’ me or none of the new kids
Every time you battle a nigga
You let your state down when you be losin’
Think about it - which one of
Us took that Saynt L? Oh, you is
And when it’s real, you can tell
You can see it in they eyes go ahead
See if you can make niggas believe them lies
Nigga, time
Aight, Geechi Gotti
I come out to Killa Cali to see a homi
Better hope he Saved by the Bell
‘Cause when you hear these tires Screech
I come to see at least a (Lisa) body
Nigga, I ride stick a fork in your grill
I don’t need a Masi’
MMA knockout shit: somebody
(k) need to stop me say, Day-Day
My chopper hate niggas: it’s a KK ‘K
When you hear it
It make you wanna smoke somethin’
Like a reggae tape
And if I had one wish like Ray J say
Then you gon’ get the handclap
Like "A Bay Bay" i’m mean wit’ it
One gun, take a whole team wit’ it
Nigga, 100-round Charlie Clips: I could do
A whole ‘nother scheme wit’ it
Niggas say they sleepin’ on Magic
Well, they gon’ dream wit’ it
CakeLyfe: it’s a wrap for your chest
(Chess) when the Steam hit it big black fo’
It got some kickback, tho’
I’m 100 below zero - you can’t get that cold
I’m from a city where, by your homies
You can get back dough
You better keep your Camp Lo
(w) before you get that Glow
The shit’ll never get that old
Boy, this clip’ll make a six pack fold
Stomach shot, waist shot, his hip, back broke
Yo, I know you don’t get high, but, nigga
This that smoke check me out
Geechi, I murder
(Murda) Ink: I think I’m Irv, Gotti
Think he Supreme and get a 50
How I serve Gotti that’s the rule
Silencer on it, that’s the tool
Pull over and lay his ‘hood
Out like back to school nigga, you gotta rap
Champagne bottle until your noggin cracked
He say you knew he was from Cali
How everybody havin’ to dodge a (Dodger) cap
Doctor could do little for his
Daughter like Kyla Pratt shoot these guns
No refunds - ain’t no givin’ his dollar back
Copy that?
Yo’ homie can get it too like a copycat
And a shell on side of his
Hat like a hockey cap stomach shots fold him
Find a way to come bend his body back
And I run in place with somethin’
That burn more than body fat body cats
Haters, stop muggin’ - I can see they eyes
They think I’m Tupac
A Outlaw wit’ this steel (Still) I Rise
‘Bout to go to work - fuck it
I got a bigga 9 all cop-killers
It’s Hollows in the Dinininon
Say, Final 4th Quarter, Every Fuckin’ Bar
In the ‘Lou
It’s 100 rounds sittin’ in every fuckin’ car
Retarded, 5300, we big Locs
I’m from a city where you can ask
For a fade and get smoked
Chokes, no-shows, short rounds
So many tricks from this silly rabbit
He shoulda been died
But somehow he still livin’
After that fuck shit
I guess he really Magicjohnson
A 32 was my first gun
You said your mama couldn’t stand bitches
- how come she birthed one?
Ho nigga, my flow iller blow triggers
Nina, and I stay wit’ the
Bitch like broke niggas fo’-fif’ers
Headshot, explode a nigga flesh
Hole so big, the first bandage got stretched
Docs have to re-wrap
(re rap) his shit like Rex
Nigga, who got next? Don’t matter - you dead
Back shot, bullet right
(write) on his disc like a bootleg
It ain’t a movie, though copy, clown?
Said he didn’t get it
I’mma shoot ‘til it click in his head:
I’ll bet he got it now
Knock him down, when the mag’ spray
Magic cap on his head like Penny on Draft Day
Crippin’ ‘til my last day, grippin’ toolies
Pole, extended fully
Stick up for you like you gettin’ bullied!
You owe me money? You better give it to me
Or it’s 100 shots to the head
When I blast the ‘K
I’m just sayin’, gimme the cash
Or I’mma make your Apple Pay
Ratchet spray, when I’m clappin’ shit
30-clip - when you on it, it’s a Magic stick
Pass the fif’, let the fo’ blaze
The ratchet hittin’ errybody: it’s goin’
Through a ho phase chrome thang
Dump it and leave it
‘til nothin’ is breathin’
Shit, I just found out ski
Masks was for fuckin’ skiing
I’m a fuckin’ demon, I do shit tragic
I’ll kill you
Then battle your mama right in
Front of the casket on some "fuck it" shit
Already battled at a gender reveal
Funerals was on my bucket list
I be tuckin’ shit that’s why they say all
My battles be debatable leave me alone, fam’
The 30s I got in the building?
You’ll never see ‘em on cam’
Heaters gon’ blam at yo’ goofy ass
My childhood was like a
Offense-only practice: all
We did was shoot and pass
Nigga, my youth was sad, and somehow
I still was on that shit
I had to bang, and rep to the fullest
They wonder how I gave up on sports
And still end up catchin’ a bullet
Man, this shit for real
Real talk - I damn near coulda died
I ain’t tryin’ to use it for a angle
Just sayin’, I never was good at baseball
But still damn near was
Playin’ for the Angels
‘Cause when it’s real, you could tell
You can see it in they eyes
Yo’ turn - see if you can
Make niggas believe them lies time
I say, umround 2
Now this the part where I clown dude
Drum hangin’ outta the chopper look
Like a clown shoe
(Mm, mm, mm-mm-mm) - that bitch is soundproof
One-way ticket to a hospital gown suit
Clown dude
Listen up, Geechi, I get a Glock and shit
Heatseeker, Street Sweeper
I get to moppin’ shit
Say he got cash money, but he keep a rod
He rich (Roddy Ricch)
Huh, Compton Crip? I’ll put you down
Below in The Box he get
Boxing shit, four ring: Idelif
Bigg K: I get to the paperwork
On some Ah Di shit
They ain’t even know that was Geechi layin’
There - they had to ID crip
Somethin’ hangin’ outta the chopper look
Like a hockey stick gotti, quit
I got a few in the ‘K
Avocado got the news that I ruined your day
Nigga, do you know what a handgun
Would do to your face?
Make your shit look like it’s pregnant
And it’s due any day
It’s Final 4th Quarter, Every Fuckin’ Bar
When we ride around
We got 100 rounds in every fuckin’ car
Retarded, 5300, we big Locs
From a city where you can ask
For a fade and get smoked
Nigga, you’se a bitch really a whole punk
Man, I’ll be markin’ June out like
I’m busy the whole month
Hol’ up, I don’t fuck with snitches
And that shit fo’sho’
If you’se a rat, what you livin’ fo’?
In my ‘hood
You can get killed for what you didn’t know
To kill a opp’, that was the mission goal
I seen niggas cry when, it was time to ride
And they ain’t get to go
You rap it - I live it, bro
I’m just glad to be makin’ it out
Grew up ‘round roaches and rats
Raid in the house since 16
I was active - them mu’fuckas
Been raided my house
Niggas know what I’m ‘bout, really a soldier
Seen plenty niggas get killed on the corner
Man, we been avoidin’ coffins
(coughin’) way before the Corona
Boy, you a goner if you believe in God
You better say it wit’ ya chest then
I appreciate His blessings
Shit, I even prayed before those missions:
Now that was a blessed sin
Knock his chest out, cave his chest in
The steel’ll hit him
You’ll go from talkin’ to God
To chillin’ wit’ Him
I ain’t dealin’ wit’ him
Yeah, we both Crips
But your life ain’t like mines
You can run from yo’ past
Nigga, I can’t hide mines
I done ended mo’ lives than
Not followin’ Instagram guidelines
Nigga, this my time crip street, big heat
All my opps is social distancing: 6 feet
Nigga, miss me, with the "Battle rap ain’t
Just like the streets"
Man, what the fuck is the
Difference? It’s all opinions
It’s plenty niggas in jail that
Disagree with the Judge’s decision
Let it dump when I lift it
Turn this shit to a track meet
I fell in love wit’ guns, and
The way it feel? yeah
That power really attracts me
I’m just sayin’
I didn’t have to read a book
To know how Great gats be (Gatsby)
Nigga, it’s more than words i murder nerds
The streets taught me a lot:
Them was learnin’ curbs (curves)
Man, this shit for the birds!
Make sure they know that if
I die, that fake love, i didn’t want it
Half these niggas won’t give you
Five when you alive but soon as you die
They spend 20 for that shirt
With the picture on it
This your moment, don’t get 30’d
My trigger finger itchin’
‘cause the gun was dirty cuh, don’t worry
Half these niggas never seen murders
Unless it was a movie, and that’s it
Death look different in real
Life: it’s catfish
Clap shit, put a end to this
Bullets goin’ all in his shit
Man, that nigga plugged up
So nah, he ain’t dead yet, but he on
Like 10 percent
Real-ass shit, niggas know my life was hard
If they said it was easy, they lyin’
(Lion) , King
We just got used to livin’ with Scars
And when it’s real, you could tell
You can see it in they eyes
It’s yo’ turn - see if you
Can make niggas believe them lies
Nigga, time every Fuckin’ Bar, nigga - Mafia
He say, "When it’s real
You can see it in they eyes"
Well, what’s when you think it’s real
And what you seein’ is disguise?
I’ll put him in a casket, and send that shit
I ain’t Geechi - I had to make
Sure he was in that bitch
35 in the back, I’m rollin’ me a Frank Thomas
I got bitches everywhere like I’m Frank Lymon
Fucked this nigga baby mama
I’m straight grindin’ pull out
And fuck his mama wit’ the same condom
Gotta ask, Geechi: who the fuck is you?
Antetokounmpo: what these tres for?
To Buck at you
I’m slick talkin’, Crip-walkin’
I throw a crutch at you i’m off the chain
I’m the pitbull wit’ the muzzle loose
Truzzle-proof know that I’m comin’ at you
Wit’ a black deuce
I’m real in real life - none of
My goonies was in the rap group
Smack, from here on
(heroin) out, this how it crack, fool
I bet you this should kill
(Shaquille) a game: I’m talkin’ Shaq-Fu
Somethin’ comin’ out of the barrel
Big as a Shaq boot nigga, just hear me
I’mma be the one to clap you
Long-ass chopper in the car
- that bitch slap, too
Silencer on it
Sound like I’m walkin’ in a tracksuit
Final 4th Quarter, Every Fuckin’ Bar
Where I’m from
It’s 100 rounds in every fuckin’ car
Ignant, 5300, we big Locs
I’m from a city where you can ask
For a fade and get smoked
It’s B Magic posted up wit’ these 45s
Just know it’s Magic when they tell
You that the show arrived
Every Fuckin’ Bar - ball!