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geechi gotti vs. k philosophy - ahat battle league lyrics

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[round 1: k philosophy]
some b-tch had said he’ll slap my granny…
geechi!?
the guy that shoots people to hide people, and hides people to shoot people?
he must be playin’, man…
i’ll slap the knowledge out your son, and leave his noggin wit’ a lump…i kid (k)not!
make him watch as i swing the bat at his b-tch pops
your shins pop
both you fibula and your tibia each broken in six spots
so gotti limpin’ on crutches…waitin’ for the 6-6 to heel, and now he can’t crip-walk!
i catch you rollin’ wit’ the new black panther, a.k.a. big dot
fire shit off…’til your ribs ripped off
after the whistle, gotti leakin’…peanut b-tter insides: it was a big shot!
hold up, wait…
later, we’ll get into the miseducation of geechi gotti
for now, i say this b-tch ain’t right
you must be hiding somethin’
see, i could go on and on…& on…
’bout how you gave the window seat to the other side of the game, but now yo’ time is done
and if you payin’ close attention, then right now you know
it’s either the lauryn hill or the erykah badu, and i’m not decidin’ one
’cause whether i choose this thing or that thing…you gettin’ doo-wop’d by my mama’s gun!
i said, try to run
best not stutter when you step
gunnin’ for your chest
gotti was just countin’ presidents, campaignin’ for champion of the year
now you runnin’ for your death!
fuck it…i’d rather hit him wit’ the rusty knife instead
the one wit’ the fuzzy handle, so he don’t remember it quite right when i cut upside his head
it looked like one blade goin’ up, two blades comin’ down
he don’t know if it’s the mandela or the b-tterfly effect!
now let me get to what i came here to do
i ain’t playin’ to lose
only reason people can’t win against gotti? (what’s that?)
they try to be more gangsta than you
see, i know there’s more to being a man
it’s about takin’ the leaves off the money trees, plantin’ seeds
you know, feedin’ the land
teachin’ the youth not to put the hope in steel
but to instill hope they could own a piece of the map
decrease the probability they’d become a statistic
and increase the chance their degree is in math
see, i got nothin’ to say about your eyes bein’ shut, gotti, but look at me when i rap
see, gotti would rather get a shoddy ferragamo belt, than help his neighbors get right
i’m sayin’ you could actually be making a difference…but you wastin’ yo’ light
every time you rap, it’s all about the past, and i’m not sayin’ it’s strife
’cause we want that authentic gotti, the one bangin’ with stripes
but we also wanna know about the moves that you makin’ to start changin’ ya life!
we all heard, 100 and a half times ’bout how you big ballin’
well, we wanna hear about the type of account you settin’ up for your kids’ college
we all got faith you got that rainy-day stash for when you doin’ your bids
what we wanna have faith in is that you’ll invest in the future of the community and get some computers for the kids!
see, those are the type of movements gotti gotta give for
he wanna ask god for forgiveness
see, you happy wit’ your name on a smack card…
they probably put your name on a building, you get scholarships for the children
and help them overcome the gap in the privilege
the path could be lit to become a mathematician or study graduate physics
find their p-ssion and be driven for computer programming, and there’s a lotta cash in that business
i mean, come on, dawg…it’s not like the couple hundred dollars in a laptop’s expensive
what is stopping you from givin’ back to these kids and providin’ them with tools to start hackin’ the system!?
’cause it’s not like you don’t got resources
cali smoov be givin’ back, b. dot got an llc
i’m sure they’re down to give you some tips, g
and maybe when you prove you can think outside of the box society put you in, you can finally get a track done wit’ nipsey!
i said, the rules ain’t change since the game start
i run circles ’round these rappers just to play darts
and y’all don’t faze me – i beat the battle wit’ my inner demons
and you can’t know every bar ’til you learn to read between ’em
game code!

[round 1: geechi gotti]
this nigga said buy computers and shit for the school…
that was some shit that you fed us, and all these people ate it
so the people can “hack the system”…the ones that yo’ people created?
nigga, you’se a b-tch!
they only brought me here so they could see me g-check you on some loc shit
y’all know the nigga that’s always wettin’ the blunt and never puttin’ in on the weed?
i’m the nigga you don’t want smoke wit’
bro, quit, you don’t wanna fight
it’ll be jada and will: i’mma swing a (swinger) couple
ya knees’ll buckle, the nina slump you
stand over the body, you know it’s goin’ up
deuce in his face: how many fingers i’m holdin’ up?
you voted trump!? i should k!ll you for that reason!
the choppa wit’ me
i’ve been spendin’ mo’ time wit’ the big b-tch: it’s tax season!
the mac squeezin’, i’m sittin’ him down
he probably got a gun, but can’t shoot it
he really a clown
i see k tryna raise his stock, so fuck it, i’mma give him a round – blaow!
nigga, you’se a teacher?
i’ll go to yo’ cl-ssroom and say, “fuck yo’ lesson!”
it’s ten of y’all? get this cap fired, and sat nine (sat-9) like, “bruh, we testin’!”
why would you wanna test me!?
crazy is what you gotta be
nigga, i’m a boss, i really paid the cost to be
cross my line, and y’all gon’ see white smacked (smack) like flossafee
yeah, you got bars, but you a no-name, honestly
it’s crazy you the teacher, but i’m the reason the world finna learn about philosophy
nigga, i’m a g
when i shoot, it’s hard to keep the k still
i’ll let the k peel
what it’s like to die gon’ be the only thing k feel (phil’)
scratch that – empty pine box, i’mma let k fill
this a nasty tre (tray): state meal
they gon’ blame me when you get bodied…jae millz!
aye, phil…
wait, yo’ name is matt k-
fuck yo’ last name! i can’t pronounce that shit
i keep somethin’ beefy on me
headshot – now they callin’ matt dead to make it easy on me
believe me, homie
you came in with me, so seein’ the way i rise, i know you don’t like it
sick is what you gotta be
’cause we came in this shit together, but i was just a straight-a student the way i p-ssed philosophy
this white boy got soul, though, for real!
it’s like you kinda black ’cause you be rappin’ wit’ us
prob’ly eat cornbread and gumbo
be mad at the cops for all the slack they give us
i’m lookin’ at him, though, but this nigga really white…but you black…
but just like him…i’ll crack a (cracker) nigga!
boom-brrap a nigga!
see a round come off the top: he free-stylin’
face shot
they like, “gotti, why you got the cannon (canon) flashin’ on him?”
this nigga keep smilin’!
we wildin’ for respect!
my niggas’ll die ’bout that
hey, if you catch me outside, you gon’ need a doctor (dr.), phil’: how ’bout that!?
’cause i got straps, .40s, .9s, ars and such
i’ll put big arms on this lil’ nigga…the code word was “clutch”!
what’s up wit’ this harry potter-lookin’ mu’fucka, man!?
actin’ like he never seen a crip before
i’ll show up to his crib wit’ the sweepers like quidditch, ask him, “what it’s hittin’ for?”
catch him lackin’ in his mu’fuckin’ whip, then give him four
i even let a few shells slither in (slytherin) gryffin door (gryffindor)!
nigga, this is war!
i’ll pull up to ya cl-ssroom, pull the weapon out
stretch him out – blaow!
now phil’ (feel) on the kids like a pedophile, nigga!
settle down!
i’ll let it ring on matt – bah! bah!
now i got a can’ but no mo’ shells…black people never got two things that match
i’ll beat yo’ -ss, white boy!
i dare you to get violent
i’m from nutty blocc
disrespect that, and all night, nigga, the crips ridin’
this nigga scared straight – look at him
but y’all shoulda knew if you put a k in front of an n, it gets silent
nigga, this the riot!
but i’m still the highest-viewed mothafucka on shots fired!
niggas go all the way to san diego just to see the big dog black: i’m a rottweiler
when shots fired in the hood, it’s mando’ that we shoot back
nigga, but yo’ crew wack
gotti keep two straps, so it ain’t nothin’ to get a wave capped on stage like mook back
true facts, nigga, my mind different
tre-five-seven – i’ll put the nose on white like i’m line-sniffin’
the .9 spittin’
we had high hopes for you!
we thought you would be one of the ones to translate to the m-sses
but instead it’s crazy this nigga a professor, but every time we gave him a test he couldn’t p-ss it
nigga pop, you got ya -ss kicked
clutch, you got ya -ss kicked
griz, ron, spot, you gave us some cl-ssics but…you got ya -ss kicked
look, i’m not the nigga to play wit’
boy i’m grown, you a lil’ nigga
i’ll throw this two piece ‘cross the ring like razor ramon
you don’t know that i’m on?
you sweet as cupcake
this nigga sweet as a cupcake
i got the gauge wit’ me, it’s a 10 shot, but i’m a just bust 8
code word “hand down/man down”
(what the fuck that mean?)
you got shot in the face for thinkin’ the pump fake
for fuck sake
look man, sucka shit, just know gotti don’t condone that
i already own straps
i’ll catch you in front of ya mama house
headshot, he laid out in front of the do’, welcome home matt (mat)
our lifestyles is real different, just know there’s no comparin’ it
when i talk that gang shit, i’m not glorifyin’, i’m just acknowledgin’
see i ain’t gotta be sharin’ it
most of my niggas either dead or in jail
so if they don’t make it to a cell, them niggas goin’ underground like they followin’ harriet
i coulda took it light on k, but when it’s real
baow! can’t even see the eyes on k
and when it’s real, y’all can tell, y’all can see it in they eyes
it’s yo’ turn, it’s over, them niggas didn’t believe them lies
nigga time

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