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danny myers vs. meatrice - bloody scene battle league lyrics

[round 1: danny myers]

{danny talking to meatrice}
danny: i’m right here. turn around and look at me
meatrice: i’m disobedient
danny: okay, well since you doin’ that
meatrice: you know i won’t

this the type of sh*t that make me despise you
big guns, since she don’t wanna look at me, she get shot from the sideview
i put these bullets inside you
do you know the cruelty that’s at stake? i ain’t here for the beauty in ya face
tdh paid me to give this b*tch a couple minutes…i mean that’s usually what it takes
this is truly a disgrace
ya fans in ya city loyal
shoot these ks at ya boostier ’til ya titties boil
you think these battle leagues pimping you out? i’ma really wh0re you
you said yo’ skin rich like prince akeem, i brought a semi for you
you’ll be really royal
this a look for you, i don’t advance in this
just like kanye west, she screamed at a chance for this
condemned to being a woman is a harsh sentence, it’s none of our interest
you know by doing this card, you agree that you are b*tches?
large biscuit, dome shot, make her face sag
i will wash her (washer) and any other b*tch you may tag (maytag)
you can’t brag, that you know yo’ daddy, you a rape baby
b*tch, you smell like salisbury steak gravy
since the late 80’s, i wrote to be the best, i don’t need ya s*x
i told this b*tch it was no limit now you wanna make me a ex (mia x)
you can’t beat a vet
cause they got a little flow they happy
these b*tches know they bars more than they know they daddies
hoes is tacky, talking ‘bout you let a hundred clap
you tuck yo’ stomach in yo’ girdle, then you tuck yo’ gun in that
you f*ckin’ fat
in high school, all the bad b*tches was f*ckin’ cats
you was at the lunch table, clutchin’ snacks beat boxin’ and bustin’ raps
what’s up with that?
at that point, you knew you wasn’t good enough
you created this persona like you hood and tough
life laid you on yo’ back, then yo’ prom date stood you up
now look at us, you gettin’ cooked, i ain’t with the theatrics
they don’t know whether to call you meatrice or meatrice
but y’all wanna know what rhymes with meat rice?
a b*tch i wouldn’t beat twice
she ain’t the wine and dine take her out to eat type
she one of those don’t tell none of the homies you f*cked, 2am skeet night
sneak her in the back door, don’t be seen by the street light
you in here tryna compete right?
i can’t take you serious
eddie murphy wouldn’t f*ck you raw, you delirious
y’all hoes in here battlin’ on y’all periods
i already know
rapping, while you bleeding, and still don’t got a heavy flow
when discarding a pad, you either wrap that sh*t in toilet paper, or put it in a bag man
you that nasty broad, that just peel it off, and throw it in the bathroom trash can
you sad fam’
that’s a different odor, y’all gotta get to know her
you the type that let one side of the pad fill up, then flip it over
i lift a toaster, beam on the gun, the fifth’ll spray
she was confused what was under the barrel…this a ray (disarray)
you know what n*ggas hate?
we can’t get the truth from you, and you feel me tryin’
caught red handed cheatin’, you filthy slime
you could put a gun to they head, the steel be flyin’
they land in a pool of blood really cryin’ and they still be lyin’
you feel me guys?
i’ma let the semi spray
i’ma unlock yo’ phone, and put it in yo’ casket, since y’all take sh*t to the grave anyway
you know how many times y’all called the probation on a n*gga and lied on him?
said the n*gga hit you when he didn’t, and convinced yo’ people to slide on him?
you wanna cry don’t you? growing up, no one loved her
b*tch you look like sheryl underwood…older brother
family secrets they was holding from her, but danny knows even yo’ granny cold
they used to bust whole family loads of nut on her pantyhose
i can’t stand these hoes
always with the sh*t and the drama
it’s the way they raise these kids, i mean, this is a problem
when yo’ son grow up, he gone be in prison chewin’ d*ck in the locker
when yo’ daughter grow up she gone be a stupid b*tch like her mama
grip on the llama, this gon’ be a cold murder
she thought she was running the flock, until the goat heard her (herder)
bar god!
ain’t you from the same city as bone thugs?
you the reason n*ggas book flights leavin’
i know where you from, “oh hi ho” (ohio), you look like cleveland
i’m in ya hood pipe steamin’, beretta squeeze, i let her bleed
i’ll turn her vegetable like broccoli, then i’m coming for cheddar (chedda) cheese
never these…b*tches in here f*ckin’ with ’em
it’s not fair i black on this b*tch…that’s colorism
but let’s give ’em they props for spittin’ they bars
but we heard the rumors, they all had to f*ck tdh to get on this card
aye my n*gga, which one of ’em had the best p*ssy?
was it loose?
did she have lips like lady j?
was it you
i brought a buck for you, and you on the ground with this sh*t
thank the lord she ain’t got another round of this sh*t
yikes!

- bloody scene battle league lyrics

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