grind time now - dumbfoundead vs illusion-z كلمات الأغنية
round 1
(dumbfoundead):
i’mma tell ya’ll how this battle really was arranged
i saw that battle with you and lyraflip and wondered who’s the skinny kid in beige?
so i called lush and he told me you were an immigrant from spain
i told him i’d like to serve him, but he said he really isn’t trained
but we got him to do it after payin’ him in cigarettes and change
you see, your -ss looks f-ckin’ drugged out
you were in the cast of blood in blood out
you have seventeen cousins, one house
yell “la migra!” and watch more than a dozen run out
straight through the back door
stuffin’ everything into a jansport, except the p-ssport
trust me, i got love for latinos, but no love for you
and they like me a lot more, which sucks for you
and you know what’s funny too?
you’re the only guy at a quinceañera at age 22
yo, do you know where you are? i think he’s lost
you ain’t no real latino cause you eat your tacos with green sauce
you can’t handle the red sauce cause you’re weak sauce
you turn down tequila for peach schnapps
and your day job is working for the geek squad
when he got into town, he told me that he needs pot
but got scared as h-ll when i took him to the weed spot
yo, i know you’re not mexican and that’s fine by me
but to the rest of the world, you are mexican, and i’m chinese
(illusion-z):
when we first agreed to this battle, i’ll admit
i was first, f-ck it, i’mma spit, then i’ll slice your ribs
i’mma spit off the top of the tightest sh-t cause off the top you know that i’m rhymin’ scripts
when we first agreed to this battle, i’ll admit
i knew i had murdered dog breath, but i kinda tripped
cause everyone was all, “don’t try it chris”, them judges at the blowed on that biased tip
no matter what dumb spits, they gon’ ride his d-ck
i’m here today, cause i didn’t buy that sh-t
yeah real talk, you’re only on time to this battle
cause today, you weren’t the one driving b-tch
you got no fashion sense, soap or nuts (?)
if he’s top tier, our coast is f-cked
before the wapps and juice battle, he smoked too much
started chokin’ up like he did against f.l.o. and lush
see, i’m one annoying drunk
but at least before i battle i keep the art in mind and sober up
i left lyraflip crushed to ashes
and after this, i crush a couple f-ggots from the public access
yo, i’ll turn you into a ghost in a sh-ll with a battle rhyme
you ain’t half as samurai as this latin guy
you think you a threat, that’s been blazin’ this fantasy?
you’ve been living in a simulated reality
round two
(dumbfoundead):
there ain’t n0body as great as me
i started a gang of illusions, from a to z
you came from the bay to la just to get your -ss whooped by 18th street
i can picture this fool yellin’ “save me please”, lookin’ for police
but a few more z’s after your name, you’re puttin’ us to sleep
you can take cats out the hood, but can’t put the hood into the geek
if i didn’t flash the green card, he wouldn’t have compete
i see how he’s handling his strategy
he learned everything from the awkward stockton academy for battling
and at that school, he’s only a freshman
you might recognize him at drive-thru windows holding refreshments
grindtime, this guy is not a golden investment
he’s like carlos mencia, he just likes to pose a mexican
i don’t care if your bilingual, he came to la tryna mingle
but doesn’t feel safe unless he’s around five gringos
so stop rapping, and start doing reggaton
or stand on a corner, holding a bible, yelling “jesús” through a megaphone
all you do is mention names that only battle nerds will understand
but i’ve been doing this since you were in your thundercats underpants
attending a freshcoast summer camp
(illusion-z):
yo, some say i resemble you
i’m the second worst dressed person here, better dressed than you
you like to dye your hair electric blue and shake your -ss during laser light shows to get in better moods
ya’ll asians soup up hondas and drive them thangs
rollin’ in gigantic non-violent gangs
with big cars and big engines ya’ll try and slang
to compensate for the size of your tiny w-ng
revvin’ your engine to try my mood
while i rock a sombrero and ride my mule
i’ll jack you for you limelight dude
i ain’t heard a rapper rhyme like you since tai mai shu
i rap greater, my bad you’re too much of f-g skater to ever become a drag racer
this mo’f-cka don’t want a chick
he’s too busy online talkin’ sh-t through javascript
in library mode, you’re such a godd-mn nerd you write rhymes in binary code
i’m the rap game’s attila the hun, k!llin’ the rap game is william hung, without the lisp for the love
you’re not so street
spending most of your time in redondo beach, selling gato meat
you shouldn’t really step to me
especially when you’re about as jet-li as x-t
round three
(dumbfoundead):
stop tryna act hard, forget the crowd
he’s trying to roar, but its more of a gentle growl
you failed your citizenship test, pencils down
i seen you at my last battle, all up on tantrum’s c-ck
there’s video proof cause you all up in the camera shots
i seen you tryna be the tough guy, dissin’ cats in the east coast
but you can’t do that lookin’ like franco’s latin cousin francisco
but today, don’t worry about the east coast
worry about east los
i’mma drop you off in boyle heights, cause you live the spoiled life chico
around here, you’ll get blown to smithereens
you look like one of them 25 cent homies figurines
he’s only in his teens
look at his clothes, he’s got guacamole on his jeans
or its all of that picante
oh sh-t, its sat-rday, you’re missing sabado gigante!
it’s past your curfew, how long will you brag about how p-sswurdz served you?
that is not something to be proud about, but it seems like you just love to shout it out
lookin like a sharmatic(?)
you ain’t even hispanic, you a her-spanic
someone throw a purse at him
and out of everyone who battle raps you’re the worst at it
how the f-ck do you have lazy work habits? you’re spanish!
(illusion-z):
you gon’ lose to an ese
you’ve hated life ever since your sensei molested you in 10th grade
you see this fist needle d-ck?
one swing will leave this b-tch with a knowledge medina lisp
i more than spit raw
how the f-ck you gon’ roll up on crenshaw carrying sahtyre rigsaw?
chewin’ on bird mice
with facial hair full of sperm, rice, germs, lice, and termites
smelling like burning trash
lookin’ like a dirty j-p fresh out of an internment camp
who divides his time collecting swords
typing symbols on message boards, tekken 4, and pedicures
i told my dog not to talk to this stranger cause he’s the main reason why my chihuahuas in danger
cause everytime i go to walk it at night
you stalk behind us with a wok and a knife
lookin’ for other asian dudes to rave with you
with facial p-b-s, dressed like sailor moon, takin’ shrooms
rockin’ pasty panties
you’re only a raving pansy to hide the fact you’re an asian tranny
i’mma leave your team beat hard
till every f-cking member of the swim team needs cpr
did you enter a compet-tion of ddr
cause he heard the grand prize was a free green card
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