URLtv, Rum Nitty, Cortez - Rum Nitty vs. Cortez lyrics

This a no brainer
We got Rum mothafuckin' Nittyversus Mr
Flea Mason AKA Vaultez Bodega
An easy battle this nigga dead it only took
A week to plan it, that's premeditated
So I'ma see a bigger
Sentence like reading glasses beat you badly
'Til you leakin', pleadin', "no mas papa"
Speakin' Spanish
I'm literally reeking (Rican) havoc
Clap him, then the bitch get loud
Before Coronavirus, niggas was maskin' up
Slide, and you get bodied, who gon' stop me?
All these funny niggas
Gettin' addressed Illuminati you copy?
A man die for tellin' rap lies
Actin' as if he active
That's only going to get me madder
(Matter) , like Black Lives
Give you a buck, and two quarters
The gash wide
And go the other way, I switch sides on Cort'
(court) , it's half time ask God
I'm labelled as a threat bangin' for the set
I'm not a game
But before you play me you get stretched
I'm a vet
Your battles don't even make it on the 'net
Bird nigga
Soon as they let him out the vault you're
(vulture) waitin' on his death
That's on the set we slide up peelin' shit
Fired up, get you lined up
The 9 buck limitless
380 in the ankle holster
I snuck inside this bitch wit' it
If he slip
It's bustin' out the shoe on Cort'
(court) like Zion Williamson peel his shit
Take a slug out his dome
No love, get did wrong
Cause you the worst with it
And ya rhymes is nursery
It literally seein' they scrub get put on
If you look wrong we gon' slide about it
No talk, die about it diabolic
Our 2 on 2? Math did all the moves
Your side was silent
I gotta tell the truth, he was carrying Cort'
(Carrey in court) Liar, Liar
I'll line you, that lesbian get stretched
I'll hit her head up wit' a TEC
It'll be brain particles all messy on the set
You walk up and see Fit bit's
(FitBit's) everywhere you step
Reset! Game is over
Gun butt, face is swollen
Whip it, make it crack baking soda
Rob 'em, take Cort' (court) paper
It was over a 100 yards restrainin' order
I'll smoke him, you better haul ass
It's all bad
I'm at ya neck when I address you
Then I get dawg (dog) tagged
If dude play? His skull cracked
Face open, we can view inside Cort'
(court) , that's 2K on broadcast
You better call Math
Cause you done gave me a reason now
Squeezing rounds
Through the scope I get my point across here
(crosshair)
It ain't shit we gotta speak about
Easy route, bag you up like a reefer ounce
You know, OZ him, take the Rican out
You see what we about
No rappin' beef, we let actions speak
I slide with the Locs
And on the set I'ma die with
The The Crows like Brandon Lee
Crip Street, you get pressed like six reps
I put some money on ya
Head and you get stretched i have Cort'
(half court) shot by a fan
Give him a big check this west
You can't keep it real yourself
Suicide or I'll do the job, you decide

Ain't no fuckin' crowd in the building today
It's just me and you Nitty
Ain't shit you can do wit' me
4-4 bulldog barkin' and the roof Nitty
Desert Eagle see this bird, flew wit' me
So fuck whatever coffin
(coughing) he got just know
I'm immune Nitty (immunity) fool wit' me
I'm in tune but I'm too litty
Keep a tool wit' me
But, deuce deuces are too risky move Nitty
This Big (g) K go Boom, Nitty
Duu duu right through Nitty
You're through Nitty
With two blickiesi keep these sticks together
And the only thing that the doc
Can't stick together is you Nitty who is he?
Huh? Someone they gassed up?
It's nothin' to blast punks
I up it and blast one
What's in this tummy tucked is
Cuttin' his abs up
I got somethin' dumb in the can' Rum
Brooklyn, yeah, my savages are starvin'
Ya battlin' a marksman
I'ma tag 'em then I'ma chalk 'em
Run in his crib, BAOW
Get clapped in ya apartment
Yeah, stairway to Heaven
You get it? The ladders do the walkin'
Yeah, voice for the hood
The ratchets do the talkin'
Lux, SM2, I'm carryin' a coffin
Yeah, who is he? The Gun Line King nigga?
He got the blick and the pipe? That's cool
My clip been itchin' to snipe boy
It's lit for the night
I put the grip to his wife
The triggers ignite
Now there's a dead body over the
Gun line like Biscuit in Life
I blast ministers, hit 'em for spite
Then administers and make sure the
Doc can't administer life
Boy, I am givin' you light
They scream, "Black Lives Matter"
Yeah, then they said, "All Lives Matter"
So I had to cop the MAC
Like a picture with Ice scratch that
"All Lives Matter", y'all get it?
Yeah that's a nice flip
But why cop the MAC? You
Wouldn't like the ice pick
He's lifeless, goodbye bitch
Left with a red bottom, I spike shit
The nickel here is priceless
Tool fully, ain't shit you could do for fully
Cause, I steams shit
Ain't shit you could do for me
Let the heater bang, my livin' is trife
And I keep a blade, pickin'
(pick in) a fight school bully
Y'all don't mettle with dudes
The metal and Uz'
The 30 clip make black crack
'til his melanin ooze i give you everything
Boy, I'm in a generous mood
And even if I Chi Ali ya whole
VIP's will get this whole section removed
Boy, I'm just checkin' for proof that the
Instruments can ring and sound off
You was never in tune
Boy, do not play wit' us
I'll pop 'til the Glock's staining us
I'm all about a money bag
(Moneybagg) Yo until I knock Meghan up
Shots break him up
So much blood that a mop can't wake it up
And then I toast to his death
A bunch of rappers in black suit's, his
Funeral lookin' like the Roc Nation
Do not play wit' us
NOME x? I deserve a plate
I'm talkin' mad cream
Don't y'all get it? Y'all was sleepin'
So I served you a wake (awake) on Caffeine
Yeah boy, that's mean
Yeah, and I will level ya shit
Because I'm better with grips
He came down with somethin'?
Cool, but he never was sick
The clip 'bout a foot long
As my measuring stick
So when I let it go "click" you can
Finally Crip Walk in Heaven with Nip' bitch
I'm the most underrated
Underhanded I oversaw
But being overlooked creates a
Pen that's overall i'm trained to go to war
Exposing flaws is protocol
I'm doin' the favor cause even
In quarantine I open doors

Aye, I'm 'bout to do my shit once
More than send him up Lord
Cause he don't want war
Got a couple of 'em fresh
Up out the gun store if I let it lick wit'
(liquid) these two pounds ya done for
Fluid leakin' out him
Lose like 32 ounces just from one Cort'
(quart) you look, just like my plug Cort'
He used to send the package right through
We was trappin' white too
And that whip, I had hard to sell
Like a salvage title I don't like you
There's nothing else to say to niggas
Don't play wit' killers, K's will hit 'em
With brute force
Bah bah, I'll do you two Cort'
(court) in one spot, that's Staple Center
This clip'll lake a (Laker) nigga
I wish you would stunt, get a push front
Dome shot him
We smoke apples out a wood blunt
I caught you lackin' on ya avenue
You ain't even see me or look once
Dummy, I had to drop on you
In traffic like The Good Son
Don't look dumb, you know my style
No little shit, big grip
40 Cal', slide up on his house, Ruger torch
And this shit get to boomin' Cort'
(Boom in court) , soon as I point 'em out
It's goin' down
Who want that smoke? Let me see
I'm only supportin' my people right now
So I gotta black owneverything let it ring
You 'bout to get all the smoke
And take so many punches the fans yellin'
(Get off the ropes)
I'm 'bout to 30 piece ole' boy I'm so sure
I'm locked in, and every bar
Got a spin to it, like a vault door
Check the scoreboard warlord
Fuckin' wit' the kid is suicide
You ever seen a TEC 9
(Tech-9) before Cort' (court)?
It's your choice
That nigga O-Red did you the worst nigga
You got served wit' it and left hurt injured
You was supposed to grab the stick
Flash and air O
(arrow) , that's a turn signal
Bird bitch you
You ain't in style, this my shit now
That's known fact
The GOAT back like Jim Brown
The silencer will make you sit down
I reach, you hear it whistle
Then I walk off Cort' (court) the fifth foul
I'm lit now and yo' shit? Isn't lastin'
Lift the Magnum
Shoot the bitch you grew up wit'
Bullet go through
(threw) her Fit temper tantrum
This is madness
Whatchu think I pack a pole for?
You know me, stop the battle
If we gotta scrap, i ain't rappin' no more
Ya man run up, then I'm clappin' old boy
Empty more than half on old boy
And that's when
(win) the Final Four come out
The ladder on Cort' (court)
I end your life wit' it, with a Russian chop'
I'll let eight
(ate) out the wooden stock like
It's termites in it you heard right nigga
Ya melon will split put a shell in ya shit
Keep talkin', I'll take you out Cort'
(court) like you held in contempt
Bitch, you can't keep it real yourself
Rap nigga

He said, "revolve like a vault door"so I put
The grip in his face
But when that barrel spin
Like a revolving door, you get it
With each combo this nigga safe
I told y'all, really man
I told you, right now I'm
From Brooklyn, and boy
I don't rock wit' frauds
Honestly, ya Eyes Wide Shut you
Died shocked in awe
Smack I told, I copped the 4
A Desi, a mop for war
My stock is up that makes sense, bodega
I got a lot in store what's poppin' dawg?
Yeah, I'm still here with the steel here
But the goons is real near
We built bricks, yeah
Cause off bricks we built here
But y'all gassin' the Gun Line
King and that's real clear
Y'all put this Crip on Cort'
(court) and he a shooter?
Yeah, in a wheelchair it's real here nigga
Chokes

It's real here nigga so fuck it they all dead
Yeah, you gettin' judged with the hammer dawg
So fuck what the law says
Big MAC's, the 4 spread
I'm good in your hood
All the ese's in the west
Still stand with Cortez
The 4 spread, baow, the layup son
I'll clap you in a coma- they scream
"Wake up punk" body bag
The body mass? It could take up trunks
Yeah you was bustin' them clips
'til he struggled with Clips
How you a Crip but couldn't lace up Chuck?
What?!
These niggas, keep givin' me no names
That's why I'm fuckin' cursed
So I catch 'em traffic, it's road rage
Yeah, nigga, die young forever
I'm holdin' a full gauge
And if Rum in the barrel, baow, he won't age
Brooklyn, I ain't frontin' for nothin'
If I black out, ya soul will
(solar) eclipse under the sun i told you
These clippers ain't cuttin' it son
Yeah it's nothin' to pull it
Now jump in front of a bullet since
You always the one jumpin' the gun
Matter-of-fact you fucked Ebony?
Say word, you in love wit' her son?
You're 5'6" she's 6'5"- yo what's
Up wit' you Rum?
I mean damn, I put money on both they heads
I'm drummin' for fun
Prohibition, I put a band on hustlin'
(Hustle &) Rum crews get left wet
I got the rifle with power
I got a gift for ya bitch too
Baow, even ya bride'll (bridle) get showered
Boy, it's on sight for this coward
Cause, I'm with the shit's, big guns
Get Pop Smoke in the crib
Like the Crips did son
And I'm spottin' every move like a Fitbit run
And my hand cocked (Hancock) so play hero
I'll make a movie when the Smith lift Rum
Yeah, nigga, bitch front that's nothin'
They all get a coffin when
The 4 get to talkin'
Man, and it's quick to pick up Rum
I had a long day at the office
Boy, I'll off this, the 4-5th
I'm in love with the piece
And I'm dumpin' the heat
Smack, it's a cancel culture
Ain't nobody in here fuckin' with me
Yeah if Rum on the creep
Yeah I have to attack see I can scrap
That's facts but I ain't grabbin' no straps
Fist fights get mixed right like
I mastered the track
I'm talkin' you vs saga
All that flaggin' is cap facts
Me lose to Cornell, how? Talkin' hammers
It ain't enough to get Cor' nailed down
Pounds, I blast for certain and
I clap a person don't y'all get it?
I'm head huntin' and I'm stuffin'
The bird like a taxidermist
Scoliosis, yeah I'm crooked to the bone
This fool? Get everything without
Lookin' in the phone if I burn money
It's gonna put you in the hole
And since an election year
Fuck it keep lookin' at the poles (polls)
Cause, I'm the most underrated
Underhanded I oversaw
And being overlooked creates a
Pen that's overall i'm trained to go to war
Exposing flaws is protocol
And I'm doin' the favor cause even
In quarantine I open doors

Aye, I'm finna cause hell get to trippin'
Pull this 25 flippin'
Cort'll (quarter) land on his head like I called "tails"
I told Smack
"Whoever you go and get me they gon' fail
Pick 'em out and since this the name
I got i get Cor' nailed (Cornell)
The boy killed i mastered this
Bitch stop, it's like you robbin' hip hop
But, you can't rap a lick
But a loss to me not the baddest shit
You still gon' be able to build with
This little L it's an Allen Wrench
I'm cappin', it's the worst way to lose
It's gonna be obituaries with ya face on
It and shirts made for you
You gon' get murked, play it cool
And I'll lay Fit out next to Cortez like
I'm hype for my first day of school
Make a move believe me I'll squeeze
Load up the mil'
(meal) , then let it all out
It's a Bulimia thing get ya shit blew
(blue) for the record like, Jesus Is King
Then I let this pump air
For you a breathing machine
I mean, if you get brave, you get slayed
Switchblade ya ribcage
Spike Cort' (court) side like a Knick game
This bitch lame fuck I get you for?
Pure disrespect i should've turned down the
Check like a Newport
This some shit I'll slide through
On your crew for with a tray (tre)
Where I buck fifty 'em all
And finish my food, cort'
(court) i'm 'bout to do you foul now
I got somethin', that you can' hear when
It's lettin' out rounds
Then I got this one tool
(1-2) , loud as an Avocado countdown
Bow down or make way
He said, "Nigga you ain't safe"
One of the coldest on this main stage
Aye, aye nigga K flame, brain stain
And now a miss sticks
(mystics) sparks on Cort' (court)
It's a WNBA game
You can't hang if you won't clap nothin'
And that little bit of respect you
Do getis because you Math woman
Act dumb and I'm loadin' up cannons
You know I'm gon' blam
So take cover pussycause you soft Cor'
(core) , you just don't show it on cam'
Nigga, don't fuck wit' me
I done had enough really
You got about 10 seconds to evacuate
The building or you gettin' stuck, feel me?
'Bout the time I count to six, Cort'll
(quarter) get a buck fifty
Or hear a loud roar
Got ya partners pickin' your body
Off the ground Cor'
You should've seen ya dawg
(dog) face when they was draggin' ya body
They did you foul Cor' (Falkor)
You can't keep it real yourself
Ah yeahyou killed yaself

That last round was ass he choked
So fuck it y'all gassin' this diva
You got ya little bitch witchu?
I'll drag her and beat her
You jump in? I'm clappin' the heater
No clue on when this couple
Went out Anwar & Rita
See how I can come off the top? That's proof
That I'm flat out better than y'all dudes
I'm never been soft too
I'm from Brooklyn, nigga
I inherited hard too
You a legend? You've been reppin', I get it
He spark tools? So I gotta
Get this fake pussy sent (scent)
Get it? Erykah Badu
Nigga we spot crews then shot crews
I'm reckless when the TEC's appear
Don't you get it? A hole
In ya chest blow through
Now that's central air
Yeah, I done left my peers
Dead for years and end careers
Now the only thing left, in the end
(Indian) was a Trail Of Tears
Yeah, nigga, more homi's
All sloppy with bullets in your body
Fuck a news report
The only report is an autopsy
You reppin' two crews?
Yeah that's cool, I'm catchin' more bodies
Geechi, Top
Saga- makes sense you're my fourth Homi
Get it?
Dawg copy, what type of action you on?
You a Crip? You do drive
Bys? You clappin' the chrome?
Yeah that's cool
I do a drill and I miss? I'm
Spinnin' back on the block, yeah
Nigga the static is on
I'm comin' back for the
4th Quarter Patrick Mahomes
Yeah boy, what type of status you on?
I align them triggers
Big MACs, click clack, I'm online for killers
Got me lickin' at Blood, try me killer
Fist of Fury, boy I done boxed Wilder niggas
You shaky, please, boy, you crazy wit' a drum
But, I'm raisin' wit' a gun
Your whole delivery it shows that how
You shaky wit' a gun
Nitty, you a bum, everyday we flex
Paralyzed from the waist down
I got crazy texts he gon' rehab for months
Everyday be stressed
For this Crip to walk again
It took baby steps
Step boy, cause I know you a fraud aye
Don't y'all get it?
If Flea get ticked then my dawg (dog) spray
You butchered Conceited's whole style all day
You need Machines and West Side Gun
(n) 's to do it Con' way (Conway)
Dawg wait, this act's a façade
I'll get a battle rapper washed
And start scrappin' dawg
Run out bullets? Gun Line King? Stash the rod
And be the first nigga swingin' Jackie Rob'
Nigga, MAC round blast, pat down fags
Y'all whole delivery
I'll air out ya background fast
Boy! Trolley trains, shit bags
The cap gon' blast
Trolley train, I still gotta track down Ave
Yeah boy, if I doubled these
(D's) bitch you know, that's I'm O'fficial
Rum i won't quit 'til her shirt
Say RIP wit' you Rum
You was lit until I split a Crip into son
Had a Phoenix with ya body found into sun
And the remains were found by
Who? His two sons
Boy, I'm talkin' 'bout used guns
I pull up he way to visit
And any day you get it don't y'all get it?
I plot with guns, I'm spottin' Rum
Watchin' Rum, yeah I'm babysittin'
Yeah the 80 kickin' i drilled this nerd
Don't y'all get it?
Half Moon clip, steel (still) get curved
Boy, ya leg twitchin' and you move
I drilled this herb
And all it took was one shot
Rum and it killed the nerve
Of this bitch ass, fuck the chit chat
Skip that, you lettin' the Sig' clap?
Like them fake gold fronts it's big cap
My fist crack? Jawbones bloody, ya shit black
My blick blap
Stomach wounds gettin' covered with big tats
Stomach shot, baow
The doctor can't staple ya skin back
So I gotta stitch ya then add a zipper
To sit flat on ya six pack quit that
I'm the most underrated
Underhanded I oversaw
And being overlooked creates a
Pen that's overall i'm trained to go to war
Exposing flaws is protocol
And I'm doin' the favor cause even
In quarantine I open doors