cino the god vs nise - bear arms lyrics
[cino the god:]
yo!… by the way, you got all your sh-t ready right?… nice…
i got one round for one round
i won ’round the state, you watch matrix?
skiirt, ain’t no escapin’ when the one ’round…
i’m jet li in the multiverse, k!llin’ to be the only one
i’m the god, so if you see me holding one, it’s a holy gun
i bow after i, bow-bow! send you to meet ya maker
say “hi” to bob marley for me, i’ll send ’em to meet jamaica!
wait, uh… didn’t that midget, ybs make you go to the sky?
ok, no wonder he won’t go away, this vato’s a fat ghost in disguise!
i rose to the fight, this is war hour!
i been through millenniums, went from horses to horse power!
don’t ask my origin, how i was born, then born again…
b-tch, i crash-landed this planet in a meteor shower!
compared to me, you a poor coward with no validation, no power
and no means to reach the heights of my soul caliber
you got a lovely chick, she sucked my d-ck, now i’m so mad at her
i mean, i’m so “matador… y tu sos mamador”
he knows what i said…..
tell him “get out” or i’ll punch his face, watch ’em run with pace
while kanye’s still slippin’ in and out of the sunken place…
is it “free thought” or “free of thought”, as opposed to thinkin’?
just when we all thought it was all over, he wakes up… mk ultra instinct! (d-mn, super over heads…)
but yo… this a video game and i’m quick to be first to finish ya character
in any area, hop-scotchin’ and flippin’ hysteric, like
one minute you see me pop-lockin’, next minute i’m grippin’ the daringer
in the end, you runnin’ for ya life…. this is america…
(childish… childish, i know…)
switch your name! shut your face! and f-ck all your quotes!
you look disfigured, like a zombie who’s not all there, comma-toast
better yet, you that sloth traitor from 300 who plays the field
how the f-ck i’ma let you fight for my team if you can’t even raise your shield!?
b-tch! b-tch! you better study the art of war more!
cino the lord of the ring, like i was born in mordor!
you only got one option in life, muhf-cka, i got more doors!
i know sh-t about you you don’t even know ’bout yourself…
n-gg-, i’m nardwuar!
(-hums theme song-)
time…..
(host and crowd heckling)
…..syke! i lied, b-tch!
y’all thought my mileage was low?
you must be high, b-tch!
bye, b-tch!… after this, you won’t be able
to spit cha bars till your rhymes fixed
apply friction to your entire division is my mission
try dissin’, you’ll die wishin’ to get spared
but my mind isn’t gon’ change
nine lifted, it’s time, fixing to chop
what’s in my physical range
divide minimal lames in five separate lanes
i tried giving him grace, then sigh… freaking disgrace!
look at his face… shrek’s in town, except with down-
-syndrome, i end holmes…
like moriarty’s chess-rebound, let’s recount…
i scored swish after swish, give me my swisher
or get switched up wit’ a switch-blade
your new name is mitch bade…
tech n9ne said that’s pig latin for “b-tch made”
sense, it made… yo-da…
fact that’s most accurate’s you b-ss-ackwards
there’s one word to describe my battle rap run… “m-ssacre”
you wack rapper, get outta my face
‘fore you get smacked faster than track masters!
i’ve mastered tracks and battle rap
kept it low-key, so when you know me
there’s no way to get past my stats with the trash you rap
judah’s front teeth, that’s the gap, between us
difference between an act and g*nius
real rap and slim jesus
i eat p-ssy, you suck p-n-s! we don’t need ya!…
(are you not entertained?…
i said, are you not entertained!!?)
how the f-ck you thought you’d survive a round with me?
you should’ve threw in the towel…
n-gg-, ya slogan is about you gettin’ mad ’bout losing the crowd!
the f-ck!?… let’s keep it a buck…
i don’t hate you and you know i ain’t really mad
it’s just a battle, either way, i still got all of the winning stats
kicked his -ss, i’m getting cash, so much i got hindu mad
but one thing i learned from experience… nice guys finish last
now rap, b-tch!…
[nise:]
yo, y’all ready, y’all ready, y’all ready? hold it down…
all that aggression… n-gg-, you look like you vote republican
what, you tryna “make america great again”?
f-ck that, i dump wild
this mag’ll turn his cap red, trump style
but you in orlando now, this where we fight hoes back
i done battled trapp, ybs, 242, n-gg-, you nothing like those cats!
and i’m still getting booked, that should let you know i stand up for my lines
it’s like a tightrope act, i want my peers thinking “how the f-ck did he write those raps?”
i’m mapped out the road to success, n-gg-s thought i was crazy
well, i’ma take the psycho path
’cause if i wig out this round, time getting stopped
i’m strapped and reckless, blah!
if you don’t die after the first shot, i’ma rewind the clock
that mean i’m going back for seconds!
the attack relentless and you ain’t getting nothing less than that
this could get nasty, n-gg-, the pen flashy like the men in black
shoutout to beararmz, ’cause they set the trap
not only did they provide a venue for the best to rap
but at the bar, for 50 cent, you can get a shot at remy…
oh yeah, it’s time to get the strap!
i took this battle for free, it’s a home game
i support the squad
plus i know the only way to make a profit
is to have somebody nice talk to god
so what up, god? talk dirty
you can get shot in the mouth like dentist visits
or gather your family around…
y’all could get shot on the couch like christmas pictures
i hope you get the message…
’cause i know n-gg-s that just like beating you with the gun
they’ll bust your sh-t down the middle
that ain’t me, ’cause if i pull out the wesson, i’m shooting…
you’ll never see the b-tt of the smith like willow
’cause i’m the type to grab a weapon, i don’t care if i’m right about it, i blam them sh-lls
the only time you grab them weapons is when you write about it
them sh-ts is handmade tales
see, this what happen when they testing me to shoot
when i raise heat, praise be…
take off everything under his eye, blessed be the fruit!
the first shot separated your face, y’all better say the lord’s poem
’cause that second shot sending him to the gates, may the lord open!
you look like your mother kicked your father out the house and raised you herself
you let your emotions get the best of you
for christmas, she buy you books… for breakfast, she make you vegetables
you had to write reports every time that you act stupid
and i know your moms hated the day
you started listening to rap music
see, first she heard you listening to “jesus walks”
she was like “that’s right, christian, stay who you are!”
then she heard you listening to “locked up”
she was like “woah, woah, woah, christian! now you tryna take it too far!”
you said “shut up, mom, that’s my favorite song!”
she said “that’s it, christian, now i’m taking your car!”
n-gg-, your whole stature’s wack
i never gave a f-ck about your home, past your raps
and you supposed to run up on me?
soon as you approach the trey dead line
it’ll get rid of half your cast
but here’s some truth to tell:
your pen dope, you maneuver well
but you thought you was gon’ eat around me?
here’s where the tables flip, ruger rell
so embrace the nerd inside, why would you pretend to be more?
berra said you want one round, cool
long as they knows i came prepared for an infinity war
’cause every line will have the impact of a behringer
you try to be the star of this round, you’ll get capped in america
’cause everything you drop is lame
if i had to rate you, i’d give you points for lyricism
but since you weird i would have to dock the strange
so for now on, honor me as your majesty
i’m k!lling this god, and ain’t enough guardians in the galaxy
so it don’t matter if you think i’m nice, i’m nise to fans
i keep a buzz on the web, even though they spiked the man, d-mn!
’cause i’m mac-packin’… old scool jansport with the strap action
if you come with a performance worth applaudin’, i’ma clap at him
you’ll get the same round over and over, i’ll lab rat him
these two arms giving out flat lines like ave rappin’
and i really wanna spit some f-cking racial bars…
but i don’t even know what f-cking race you are!
i mean, you look half indian…
you know, the type to call in the bomb threats, of course
but i’m half indian too…
except i get the call when n-gg-s need that tec support! blaow!
’cause i know what a star look like and this n-gg- all groupie
you can’t name a n-gg- you saw move me
you let quis k!ll you…
i’ll make a k!lling with keys like a saw movie…
i’m f-ckin’ this n-gg- up… like a saw movie!
’cause you were supposed to die at berra birthday
and you lucky it didn’t go down, b-tch
but they called me back for this event
’cause the one thing i can do is keep all my rounds lit
all that lyrical wizardry you done spittin’, i done did it
you come witty, i come wit’ it!
the gun kickin’, mac stupid smart, that mean i go dumb wit’ it
’cause i learned how to shoot from a chef
rule number one: before you cook, you gotta know what is at stake
rule number two: make sure you in rare form when you get put on to a plate
so i’m choosing all that knowledge to send cino to h-ll
soon as the piece get unveiled, blah! blah!
left ’em a little red on the inside
that’s how you shoot medium well!
time…
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