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urltv - iron solomon vs. o-red كلمات الأغنية

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[round 1: o-red]
every battler ain’t a rapper
this kind of settin’ show if you can rhyme or not
this red zone, beat headphones, i make the volume pop
only took this battle, cause beasley said you on fire aak
and mama always told me you gotta strike while the iron h-
i’m from a violent block, you tresp-ss and we rock a tw-t
catch me in your hood next day, i dare your squad to pop
i comin’ back, chopper c-cked
just to show you heaven is real, give duke one, then sit him higher than zion’s stock
you thought we was even? it’s over cause n-ggas jumped me? nah, i jump this broom, i don’t give a f-ck if we tied or not (tie the knot)
volume 3 comin’, you said surf was duckin’ him
called out another rapper and didn’t get neither on of ’em
your reaction, typical, cracker, showin’ the snitch in you
wanna give another n-gga bars cause you ain’t get to sue (tsu)
you pitiful
tryin’ to shoot your shot while you lose to top
now you thinkin’ you can rock wit’ the champ, are you stupid aak?
smack set you up, this a kostya/zab maneuver aak
he took the animal out the zoo to box for a jew to (judah) drop
i mastered every word, perfected all of my grammar
when sh-t get intense (in tents) you will not be a happy camper
you dyin’ in every stanza
i want you to remember the -ss whoopin’ you caught red handed, it’s on camera
just for comin’ here, with all of them pies tryin’ to get off
i aim it at this clip on, c-ck it and let a clip off
clip slip, he dip i switch and let the spin off
as soon as this jew booked, tore a (torah) n-gga’s sh-t off
i’ll wait ’til the day they bury you, load the baby chopper
bust in your funeral like i’m phara’s baby father
like, “what’s poppin’?” i’m the cause of this mess
if you got love for solomon, you better jet or die a horrible death
cause if i get the urge whoever miss this nerd is gettin’ served
lift the bird, back of the head baow, his vision blurred
brain matter roll off a jew tongue like a yiddish word
act diva, i clap heaters, two black ninas
i’ll raise solomon, king david; bathsheba
i’ll send a tip through ya then i’m sendin’ ya b-tch to ya
that’s two jews catchin’ one bullet like smith schu-
you know, juju smith schuster
yeah, i’m talkin’ ratchet play, makin’ sure aaron rodger that what i pack’ll (packer) spray
get back, you’ll get boxed with a ring like c-ssius clay
stiff as a mannequin
when red ski mask down, i’m jagged jay
blac! n-ggas trippin’ for sayin’ this man a cookie, he a f-ckin’ geek
code name “queef”; aaron (air in) p-ssy
i said i’ll wet up this whole motherf-ckin’ venue, i’m a wild dude
12 gauge, rock him (rakim), then i ‘pump up the volume’
you heard me?
jersey

[round 1: iron solomon]
o-red’s rounds be kinda decent, then without no rhyme or reason
he decides to try defeatin’ his opponents, with the silent treatment
or your voice crack
and we don’t know if you’re a woman, or you’re a man
call yourself the transformer, but be soundin’ like some form a trans
summer madness 7 was especially embarr-ssing
got will put in the vault like you’s protectin’ your inheritance
lose your voice when you battle me that’ll be a true casualty
all that talking horse sh-t will get mr. ed (red) sent to the glue factory
you once was a breath of fresh air, when did (winded) this become a gag to you?
every time we see you choke, i just wanna strangle you
let’s not (knot) pretend his friends cutting him slack is news (noose)
you been given too much rope by dopes that hang with you
o-red, you were the worst
tsu surf’s the first
now choking every other battle’s just how nu jersey twork’s
you clowns heard me?! how’s anyone your town worthy?
if now “jersey” is basically slang for ending your round early?
you should be wild worried
you’ve snapped under less pressure
then choked through more rounds then them african neck stretchers
i mean forget being king if you can’t write more memorable things
cause you struggle to hold up your head up when you stick your neck out in these rings
and if he don’t choke, it’s cause his admiration made him practice for me
the only reason red capable (cape a bull) is cause he mad adore (matador) me
red cape…a bull…matador?!! this is no spain
for charging me in the ring this’ll be where o-lay (olé)
six feet will be how deep the content is if he’s forgotten it
blac, rewarding these accomplishments? there’s gotta be some consequence
y’all wanna see these thoughts of his on screen, for the people watching this
y’all paid for the payperview-baow! now you can stream his consciousness
champion washed his brain, got him thinkin’ he’s on my plane
but having a good year, doesn’t launch you beyond the game
what does bein’ on smack, with that belt on your arm attain?
if you keep getting stuck in this same spot? it’s all in vein (vain)
hall of fame, wall of shame
award you claimed? lost and gained
i’m coming to sn-tch that belt with the money attached like a wallet chain
the cost of fame, i called your name like you die i’ll (dial) collect o
you’ll hear red phone an emergency operators when i press o
cause sh-t can jump quickly, from buck fifty to slit throat
and ain’t much to say between cuts, i’m just skits-o (skitzo)
you want smoke? you’ll get smoke
who’s throwing in chips though?
or let’s go half on an ounce, i’ll split o
for the right green, who you want dead? i’m visine to a pothead
had the clear drop on him soon as i seen that i (eye) got red
from box cutters to blockbusters sick the hounds at him like fox hunters
my top gunners got red in they sites like scott summers
and they shoot the sharpest, the truest marksmen
the pump kicks like the shoe department
or the inf’ turn ya to that logo from the supermarket
bullseye!!! you know the bullseye logo from the supermarket?
that’s a red dot in the middle of o-red, you a human target
the sh-t i do’s the hardest!
sound believable too
but i’m lyin’, i don’t got ’em on me and neither do-jersey!

[round 2: o-red]
smack! f-ck aaron
you ain’t tough you a duck aaron
why you think you look like kirby?
(why?)
cause you suck aaron (air in)
i done k!lled a lot of n-ggas, you ’bout to be dead wit’ ’em
i flow with poison, create carnage; red venom
lead rippin, bring the b-tch out a b-tch when his head drippin’
dawg fake, but i still hear the whimpers like craig trippin’
you gon’ dread red like trippie redd when redd trippin’
for them dead presidents i’ll leave kirby with a leg missin’
he paralyzed, every bar after that, was bedridden (bed written)
we’re different
but this aaron cat, rarely do aaron black
why y’all puttin’ him on every smack like aaron black?
new machine gun, and a pair of straps when i’m airin’ black
that’s an mk with the two revolvers, i’m airin’ black!
aaron wack, how you lose every round to an iffy mook?
curtis jackson joinin’ your faith, that n-gga 50’d you (jew)
yes sir, but it serves him well
for battle rappin’ to begin
these crackers always want the culture, but they never want the skin
i’m sick of these b-tches, tryin’ to be us and g wit’ it
until a real hitman holla then they remix it
speak different like he thee victim and we trippin’
a cl-ssic case of, “what are those?” sneak dissin’
but speakin’ of sneak dissin’…
didn’t you wear those when you did your jordan scheme vs nitty?
okay that’s cool cause i was bred with the infrared, i’m torturous
bird down and give him the kicks like he less fortunate
i said he drop i stand over the body and keep torchin’ it
now this ak’ll laid (accolade) under the kicks, he a jordan 10
i’m scorchin’ him
smack, why the f-ck you give me this aaron sucker?
you would’ve had a better cl-ssic puttin’ me against aaron mother
get to airin’ on aaron then i’m airin’ on aaron brother
follow me, i’m the one with the stick who airin’ brother
the one with the stick who airin’- you get it, right?
i know you f-ckin’ with red sh-t, that’s moses b-tch i’ll smoke ya b-tch
wet her up like she caribbean, that mean i soak a b-tch
i get in close wit’ it, then i’m unloadin’ it ’til i broke the grip
then keep on gettin’ in close wit’ it and smack a b-tch, no offense
i’m dope wit’ it
baby .380 you gettin’ crazy? then you plus two will be liftin’ daises
iron get the headshot, y’all get three a piece from the .80
once i expose solomon wisdom, you b-tches can split the baby
ya heard me?
jersey

[round 2: iron solomon]
it’s kinda hard to believe that all them flaws in your t–th
is a problem you couldn’t solve just by flossing your t–th
or a doctor you could’ve called, that sh-t doesn’t look good at all
your gum line remind me of twork, with his hoodie off
i mean i know you got your t–th “fixed”, but they still look like complete sh-t
you used to have that single out? your dentist did the remix
this is like ll versus h-ll rell, i’m gettin’ my screw on, they tell him “screw off”
i get double the p-ssy as you dawg and they say i don’t even have two b-lls
which is twice as nuts, i like to f-ck white or black, line ’em up
i got more hoes (hose) windin’ up in my whip than a fire truck
i’ll give yo’ wifey the pipe she’ll have the time of her life
i will break that box down like recycling night
on some p-ssionate sh-t, it gets p-ssionate
you be on a fashion tip
meanin’ you gotta wait outside and can’t b-tton like how yo’ jacket fit
and how hitman and calicoe’s story described it
how you be blocking the box you should have points on your license
we all lose a chance of getting cut up
our chances of gettin’ cut up, they gettin’ k!lled like that
it’s a guy code, but you don’t know it, cause you ain’t built like that
you battled ave and rapped for nine minutes then b-tched ’bout the time limits
turn around, battled brizz he gets cut off and you fine with it?
after all the basketball bars you spit in them tournaments
your rounds be teaming with ’em and you still don’t have no sportsmanship?
well now you picked the one wrong white boy to try to run on
i handle red solo like flip cups, skip through sports bars like a pub crawl
who’d a thunk i could dribble, p-ss, shoot and dunk
a player with a single sk!ll and one with everything like a buddhist monk
this goo goo gaga you blah blah doo doo caca
we na na believe you rah rah, you too punana
you a cucaracha, me chupacabra
but nah nah in the sauna you marijuana
i can improve on your penmanship and do it so effortless
you never did a bid, you inventin’ whole sentences
rewording your bars to try to convince the world that you hard
on the block, serving up raw or doing dirt in the yard
i stopped believing every thing i heard from this fraud
when i hear he works at a job as a security guard
i c.o. (see o), you a dime dropper…loss prevention, crime stopper
in a parking lot in a marked car, patrolling with your white partner
is you 5-0? or you plead the 5th? who you ride fo? what set you with?
you really think we believe you the blood type o, negative
if you rep the clique, you bled for it
then blood’s what you’ll bleed a pint of
when i put a blade in a brim, like peaky blinders
get this p-ssy poked i really ain’t the one you should provoke
we can get it shaking with the hands blood, like we took an oath
let’s just fight instead of false flagging for that extra hype
you see they even lined up red and white tryin’ to get him stripes
so you can try to portray me however you wanted to paint me
but i was born as a baby in new york in the 80’s
stepping on empty crack viles in every park that i played in
from manhattan to staten, queens, brooklyn the boogie bronx
fiends in the street fighting that blanka got ’em lookin’ shocked
crooked cops stone cold k!llers and dealers cookin’ rocks
you get a wooden box, we take the beef over board, and butcher blocks
y’all should applaud for how my allegiance to our region’s culture is what i’m putting on
taking o out to show y’all the difference between good and god
not jersey

[round 3: o-red]
no intro, i kick in ya door and beat your mother to death with a big heckler
the head trauma, blunt force, no peer pressure
then take the rest of the fam’ to the roof while they all in shock
and drag yo’ punk -ss daddy to the ledge and make his daughter watch
you from the freestyle era, right?
cool, he goin’ off the top
after lettin’ ya father down, this’ll point at (disappointin’) pops
the rest of you n-ggas going to watch
so when i take him off the grid, iron game won’t wonder will he whether (weather) the storm or not
thought i wouldn’t shoot in front of yo’ lil’ b-tch -ss crew?
n-gga jay-z baby, this livin’ proof that i don’t give a f-ck who up on that roof
i’m still goin’ let it loose
right in front of yo’ homies, surrogate (sir or get) punch out the blue
that’s a double punch move
you ain’t catch it? let’s review
the first one was all of the babies, i said rumi, sir, blue
but when b birthed the first most thought it wasn’t true
hence the second part, surrogate (sir or get) punched out the blue
i’m a murderer in the gang, he ain’t even got a clue
red is a demon, when whippin’ that h-llcat, ain’t no dodging me
you hear the tires screech on iron’s street with an iron piece
first round, bust out the charger, the clip? ryan leaf
neck shot, turn iron solomon to iron sheik
“army of-” yeah your voice will be that kind of deep
no respect for you, i’m just stretchin’ you for the revenue, let a beretta loose
turn the f’in fruit to a vegetable
if your granny come out to check on you, i’ma f-ckin’ bust her
glock .40 and they speak over your mother’s mother
baow! free millz by the way
my n-ggas slide, clip will rise
your center guy gets sent to god
hit ya rabbi tee (rabbit) with a drum, his inner g (energy) gon’ energize
i left that jew blood on another jew like a genocide
get a [?] get the synonym; exemplify
m body you for the lion kin- that’s where simba lies (symbolize)
i said dr. jekyll, tell your mister “hide” (mr. hyde)
or the big sig’ baow! curling iron, then put the heat to his b-tch wig
don’t die n-gga, look at your queen, she your prequel
i like for motherf-ckers to watch when i murk people
pure evil, any last words- then i burst eagle
and make this ‘juicy’ hit like biggie first single
i said i stra-da, ah-kla ah-ka
ma-na, ah-sla, i ma
i’m tired of you n-ggas thinkin’ my translation is rubbish
f-ck i gotta put it in subt-tles or somethin’?
i said i’m strapped in
i’ll clap you in a coma
madness!
i could snap at any moment
and it’s once again i’m here
see the [?] k, like whatcha life like?
[?] then his pockets get tapped

{o-red rips iron’s shirt. iron gets p-ssed and they get in each other’s face}

then it’s twork’s third for verb when i’m c-ckin’ the strap
all you see is a hoodie drop then the calicoe claps
look at him! he know he gettin’ murked
there was no other option, i had to throw him in the dirt
look, you salty, i ripped your shirt?
i don’t give a f-ck n-gga, it’s still murder in the first
ya heard me?
jersey

{smack goes to end the battle since iron walked out of the ring, but iron walks back in wearing a jean jacket.}

[round 3: iron solomon]
yo, the streets tried to murder tsu, surf i just wanted words with you
when you hear from all your operations, let solomon get surgical
but something’s weird, why rajon always unprepared?
when he need y’all he never f-cking there like the right top for the tupperware w
it’s crazy how y’all ain’t loyal
i guess y’all came from the same soil
where even the clothing that your peoples made for you is just to pray (prey) on you
if you can’t count on your family, i don’t know what the sense is i can count on my whole family, like the census
so if i’m caught in a bad position my trust falls on a gang of henchman
who raise arms to get my back, so it won’t be y’all that catch me slippin’
see i could hit em with bars and angles or k!ll em with body language
and when i run into chaz duncan, i’ll literally body language
turn verb from meat into something verb would eat
and pull the plug and put him in dirt to feed the worms a feast
you and your rivals doin’ scams, ladies time to be a man
jump inside the ring and dance or quit lying to the fans
lux, let’s see if you loaded with an iron on your hands
all that goat talk you heard (herd’ll) turn to silence of the lambs
when i slice a piece of your brain out and fry it in a pan
then i’m chewing through jersey like i never ate a plate
everyone from the garden in a vegetative state
yeah! jean jacket sh-t let’s go!
and i could do it dolo too, iron making solo moves
you can have more people that roll with you than bowlin’ shoes
i step in the game, you get x’d from the frame
n0body spared when i strike take all the pen in my lane
i sent the bloque to the gutter, said “good riddance (writtens)” to writers
i’ll rap circles ’round the zeros o spits with in (within) ciphers
it’s like yo’ ship is on fire without a single survivor
meanin’ i’m sinking entire cruise (crews) and that’s just the tip of the iceberg on a t-tanic run
carvin’ out a monumental spot
above all the n0bodies on rushmore, i’m already ahead of roc
above all, the no bodies on rushmore, i’m already a head of rock
one of the only forefathers (four fathers) still setting precedence (presidents) y’all will never top
and ain’t peaked yet, you peeped it? you blind if you don’t see
you saw what happened when you put n.o.m.e. together with no me
you know me, i woulda pushed the mute b-tton on surf’s tongue
if you think we need to see sub t-tles then you’re dumb
listen, f-ck what you heard son, i was so deaf verse rum on the first one
the smack volumes got turnt up
just when you thought i wasn’t doing nothin’ impressive
after that, the blind dumb and the def have come to they senses
see i can beat you with a hundred chapters, i’m readin’ ’bout other rappers
cause i’m so elite with the subject matter not even my subject matters
what i mean is, red, the right’ll pound you til something ain’t right about you
and i don’t have to write about you to sn-tch your soul right up out you
smack, i’m with all the smoke, you know i’m ready once you pay me
you can’t catch the kid nappin’ (kidnapping) i’ll take anybody baby
i’m just lettin’ ’em toss u’s at iron like this was horseshoes
my opponents stack up on the poles (polls)? they all lose
i already reached the top and i don’t feel i need to stop
they even got me narrating the trailers, i’m taking beasley’s spot
volume 3 coming! for my enemies it’s ugly
i was chewing through pits of your pedigree as puppies
getting fed to me as munchies you will never be this hungry
they even lettin’ you even touch me, cause they protecting geechi from me
after what i do to him they not gon’ let me leave the country
we could take it to the blades, if the weaponry is rusty
i will sock a (soccer) jersey rapper like fettuccine 20
my recipe is heavenly, o-red the people love me
when i’m dead, they gon’ bury me with nefert-ti’s mummy
and a couple extra freaky bunnies named bethany and buffy
a pound of grandaddy purp a pint of hennessy and dutchies
cause i’m a letter in on a secret he ain’t know
i’m a spell it out for you, read these names slow
t-top, bigg k, and him? three great foes
and when i knock out red, that’s a t, k, o
jean jacket sh-t!

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