[Chorus: GAWNE] Oh God, Father, what have we done? Try and hide, you could pray to the sky, or you could run But nobody is escaping the eye of the all-seeing ones above Yeah, me and VI, we meet again, round three ain't the same
[Verse 1: GAWNE] As a brawl, this time, we comin' for y'all I put the clip in the MAC, pass it to VI and he draws He puts that gun to your jaw— "Doo-doo!" Like the hair of Rapunzel, you fall Rappin' underdogs collab on a song On-on-on-on-once upon a time in like '96, when I was a tiny shit Born into the world, but the doctors said, I was a whiny kid, cried a bit Then I tried to spit, yeah, I admit, my first words were somethin' like "Flibbity Hibbity" Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Choppa flow, when I lock and load, my shit is unstoppable All I ever wanted was my mama to be proud All my life, I had anxiety that I would let her down Watched her break her back to make a check, it hurt so bad, I bounced From the couch, out the motherfucking house Since the motherfuckin' doors shutted, I've been cold-blooded Growin' up with like no money without a full stomach made me so hungry So fuck a candy bar, I only eat the rappers I decapitate 'em, no Channing, and turn an emcee backwards 'Til his spleen fractures, I leave gashes and mean scratches As I'm relapsin', I caffeine capsules I wreak havoc on, clock is tickin', I yawn, yeah Tick-tick, I rap long, yeah, all I ever do is get up on the mic And murder every single song, yeah, motherfucker, we is reckless No diss record, just Luke GAWNE and VI Seconds, gotta respect it Rappers in my scope, I got a lot Yeah, I lost to VI, he's the GAWD, but y'all must've forgot Ah, y'all must've forgot I don't sneak-diss, little pussies, you'll get popped Don't confuse this shit, when it comes to battle rap There's not a dude besides VI on this YouTube shit That can go against me and not lose real quick That includes Munfo, and that screw-faced- (Bitch) Y'all are fuck-buddies, damn, it's no wonder you're butt-hurt Scru, this ain't Upchurch, I'll expose pussies like upskirts If country singers makin' you lose Then come at Shaq one more time and I'll make you No Life Scru Half you motherfuckers ain't rappers You're reactors, like Joe Budden when he's podcastin' That rap-hat of yours is on backwards I'm sick of talkin', let's get to rappin' I'm sick of tweetin', you all cappin' Better call the cabin, go fall back Like trick-or-treatin', it was all sweet 'Til I light you up, like a jack o' lantern Feed 'em that eatin' apple Eve and Adam, I leave an emcee With an L-O-S-E in the heat of battle Elementary level of rappers All I needed to get beat from you cattle I wreak the havoc, never cease 'til I see the maggots Eat you bastards, fuckin' with the most "He's dramatic" Emcee ever, but I seek to damage How many rappers murdered? Put the bodies in the bag, they deceased; I murked 'em Oh shit, I think I see one squirmin'— It's Dax! So should we leave 'em breathin', or unleash the demon lurkin'? Peace on Earth is slowly fleeting World War III is certain, 'cause these emcees Are blind to my skill, they cannot see, like Germans Everybody thinkin' they really 'bout it When they Twitter-tweetin' all this shit about me Keep on talking 'bout me 'til you catch a bounty Then they find your body with the chalk around it Yeah, boo-hoo, little wack fools Y'all rap dudes wearin' poo-poo pampers All of y'all been movin' weird I hate motherfuckin' YouTube rappers
[Chorus: GAWNE] Oh God, Father, what have we done? Try and hide, you could pray to the sky, or you could run But nobody is escaping the eye of the all-seeing ones above Yeah, me and VI, we meet again, round three ain't the same
[Verse 2: VI Seconds] I've developed a habit of sorts I'm the type to kill you, then do a collab with your corpse Send words at me, then I'ma let the ratchet retort Side bar, Scru and Munfu, my mandem of course I will poof you niggas, if I choose to, I'm coo-coo, nigga Deuce-Deuce spitter, I hate most of you YouTube niggas Get stupid, if we fall out like a loose tooth, nigga The handy-dandy drawn like Blue's Clues, nigga Y'all fuckin' embarrassin', y'all don't get etiquette; y'all don't know how to act Do anything for applause 'til you end up getting clapped Cornballs don't wanna box, but none of these niggas know how to scrap Fuck niggas that wanna diss, but none of these niggas know how to rap See the ratchet; the blood sucker, if you speakin' on me, brother It get poppin' for the views since you like leechin' off each other I'll be in the cut, watchin', shakin' my head Same niggas y'all gossip 'bout try breakin' the bread What part of the game is this? Why y'all niggas so pussy? Keep clackin' 'til I clack it 'cause you've chosen to push me Cut those versus verses you'll be rehearsin' with all them curses 'Cause most of y'all the nicest motherfuckers in person These ain't bars, I'm just tellin' y'all what all of your lives like If you sleepin', you get plugged, lit up, like a night light I'll give it to anybody in this bitch for the profit Tryna say I ain't the Gawd only shows the false prophets I'll be where your IP is, I'll go door-to-door knockin' To punch you in your mouth and take shit out your pockets I'm the whoopin' that you don't want; you'll never be ready Y'all niggas grown-ass men still lookin' like you get wedgies I'm different! Watch your mouth when speakin' my name You in arm's reach? The arms reach, so stay out of my range I won't [?] you, I makin' sure to forget you when the TEC "Pew" You ain't never rap with me? I pro'bly don't respect you YouTube done bred pussies, this a venue for a front Hold my four front, blickin' at everyone on the forefront These fast rap niggas that don't say shit These niggas that love to tweet about you, but see you and don't say shit The K kick, you'll get filleted, but I don't say shit On the side, I got lines for all y'all like a K-Swiss The nicest nigga in this bitch, I'm death to you rappers Insecurity got you buggin', who's protectin' you actors? Every play from y'all is scripted, all you fuckin' do is bitchin' Then shit get real, you backpedal and act upliftin' Y'all cornballs and now you hear me speakin' to you You're hearin' me pop smoke, rest in peace to the woo, it's Brooklyn! And I don't care if you a nigga that does reactions A Paul's brother, KSI; I want action A fake positive YouTube rapper; I want action I'll back-smack you and put it on Twitter; I want action Y'all disgust me, and now there's a reason to discuss me I know some of y'all wanna punch me, but won't touch me [?] a beauty guru that's tryin' to fuck me Rest of you motherfuckers ain't lucky, I'm comin'
[Chorus: GAWNE] Oh God, Father, what have we done? Try and hide, you could pray to the sky, or you could run But nobody is escaping the eye of the all-seeing ones above Yeah, me and VI, we meet again, round three ain't the sameTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
