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daylyt vs kg the poet - king of the dot lyrics

[round 1: kg the poet]
this gon’ be a wash. i deter gents
that appear grimy but clean up white as bleach
you look like fab-pr-ck, softer, hang him
the heat’ll leave him high and dry in sheets!
don’t lie to me, how you supply the white, .45s, 9s and stripes, them fool claims
these punches’ll get this blue flamed like a ryu fight
you got one life to live, you can get left in a general hospital but i’m feeling so proper just for guiding lyt
you tryna bite. well see that 9 might greet you before i night-night sleep you… it’s a new moon, my wolves not fighting day, this a twilight feature
why use my fists, crucifix break his parts down like ikea
you gon’ see lyt pop over my head like a bright idea
on light,…
flamethrower. you haul white
bench press a round and pounds it feel like 500 since daytona….
daytona, 500, day tone, dog, face get a scar, face it if day tone, i play sosa
fake soldier, make sure the message is known to the rest of your clones
that i ain’t stressed at you, holmes
i’ll still get this uncle tom ford sprayed like expensive cologne
the slug feel like photon, 500 pounds rip through flesh and the bone, that’s 2000
so that ton’ll hit the star on daylyt like sylvester stallone
you beat me in 3? uneasy to me
you destroying battle rap, i’m growth and development, a g
d you see the arm game, long range, jodie meeks deep from 3
and i’ll put watts in a box like pg & e
wanna beef, sh-t i’m flaming rib, eyes, order of steak
your team blitz, i read bullets, that’s an audible play
14 shots, have them each side what the coroners say
so each in may have 2 7s. your memorial, day

[round 1: daylyt]

they say the antics for the views is really a stupid plan. right? no
i guess i’m obligated to show your man is still nice, so today i’ll be super, man
no more mr. comedian -ss, i’ll tell chris let’s rock but
cb4 i’ll arrow back to my roots i’ll showed y’all that i’m capable to blacken every scene
sleep on me, i’ll sleep on a n-gga for real. tell martin luther king i had a better dream!
i just wanna say halo, halo, halo, halo everybody, get it, no y’all don’t get it
that mean i’m ahead with every ring
i brought a fantastic formula to rock, man, and i call this new quill everything
they saying i’m crazy, lately i’m been acting all brawly
well, apparently my parody’s got me parenting macaulay
but i’m still culkin every weapon in the house: party!
i showed y’all i can flat tops. kid’s wanna play with the ring i’m going crazy, b-tch in 3d
it’s a vcr tape. wait, look at all the boxes i made for the tv
i will cave, man. get rocked is what b see, need black in his entertainment when i tell a vision
for those who wanna finger mike, cool i can bet
with these outer-sp-ce bars, cp3 reload the bar clippers, slipper sandles: the only way you’ll defeat my lines
i’ll show you who’s -ss in the ring; it’s rikishi time!
is he a he/she? fine. i’ll address any n-gga that’s making noise
going to spurt with these 16’s k!lling that’s why you pays ya boy
is it the frasier noise?
down goes his navigation, another n-gga that lost again
it’s a chinese in a lambo accident, you better show me mercy or i’ll go across his chin
these lines are the bomb. i write with the boston pen
eric koston shin, the grind hurt. it ain’t made for girls
where you stand, it’ll be more cans than a n-gga that believe he can save the world!
as my patience twirl, two guns in this b-tch. i am tomb raider
alicia keys is in my dna, so playing the piano is what i do, hater

[round 2: kg the poet]
real talk, the way you acting in them last couple of battles, you telling me nothing bout a 45th
you get b-tt-naked for battles, n-gga, where the f-ck do you support the clip?
i’m disrespectful, i’ll go to your grandmother’s funeral
bored as sh-t off coors and pibb
get your grandma clapped, he checked out and day watched as the moruning shift
kg ain’t jay-z but you can die nasty
stick to the scripts the streets is talking, ha, lie
you get it, bro, get your mind right before you yelling
this can’t be life when i rock la familia
see christ in heaven. fly high skies in a nicer section
when asked why, fire router with a nice connection
you did it..with a type of weapon
slice intestines, scalp you and leave lyt skinned like my complexion
i’m not moved by blank stares, i don’t play fair
cos when i infant rays on you then we’ll see if day care
…on the road but in la this n-gga ….swear he spark a riot
you lost, misguided, soft n-gga
reggie blunt probably give you tonsilitis
add one hitter, multiply his stars by his jaw dividers
fans goin be like that n-gga on the floor isn’t lyt he was ultraviolet
you anthrax, i don’t fear your threat
achilles when i spear your neck
we could be next to vegas or asia, i’m still here tibet….
them flame guns, shang tsung, take his spirit next
i’ll rob him big, it’ll be ridiculousness when i give his dear a death
my two bros like cujo, leashes broken, 16s and .45s probably leave him open
when you get rock, oh. you won’t even know it
they say kg’s boof, i ain’t bring navy troops
but when i nine, knees jam when i raise your roof
your block can get pound for the white like the lakers crew
turn davonne campbell’s shirt to campbell’s tomato soup

[round 2: daylyt]

kg the poet. to k!ll a clown i can show it
this is your opportunity to show that we are both equally dope. cocaine, but don’t blow it
everybody knows i’m [?], lines crack, a bargain is what we show him. set him up
we say we got a half a brick for sale and that this k-mbaye, then my lord is where you going
the sharp lines point at you, the spear bended
your -ss break-out cos you on a c-rash course, you can get your c-areer ended
fears pending in my heart,as my heart from i’ll show him that i’m too heart for him
you mark, boom, i bust, i bust in the front. leave a rose in the park for him
it’s just an art form. i’m just a great westeren, n-gga. that’s where the form at
[?] century, great westeren, n-gga. where the format?
i’ll be undefeated like a floor-mat. for centuries cos of the fear tat
get hit with a gun, one of my n-ggas got a care package. that’s the sh-t
kg the poet? you should be familiar with poetry, right?
sh-t that pound ears, wait, hear it?
the heat is to be or not to be? when i squeeze it it shake spirits
no extendo clip, just a standard one that holds about 8 digits
a arsonal, make sure your life come up short- i hate midgets
who’s responsible for this n-gga career, they might say they did it or they did it
no-no-no-no. day did it!
your chest gon’ feel ho! ho! ho! i saint nick it, night
they hear it but don’t see the body, you live a cricket life
i put a hole in you, wall. somebody get the mice
two guns in the b-tch. i am tomb raider
alicia keys is in my dna, so playing the piano is what i do

[round 3: kg the poet]
you disappoint me davone. you see there was once a day i could witness
that daylyt with writtens could be top, say, 5 for instance
but i don’t know if it was the yay lines
or the inner place where your g-y pride existed
but once you showed us the moon we all knew daylyt was finished
first round, day spitting bout k clips and pitching the yay bricks
second round you choked like the spurs went and did up in game 6
third round, this n-gga get up with g-y sh-t
i don’t know about y’all but vegas boulevard at noon is the only time i’m tryna witness the day-strip
it don’t matter that you roll with papers and i don’t mean that you didn’t create the joint
you chris bosh, game 7, act a f-ggot but still ain’t even make a point
lightning, yo, lyt the frightening kind i despise that’d try to stand for antics more than he actually write in his rhymes or actually stand b-tt-naked and in the next rhyme he’s sniping a guy
and this day j 6, do the math. july 4, 6 fireworks put lyt in the sky
you must have read about me so stop. you ain’t living a savage life
if you yell, oh, well that won’t slow me down if i flash the pipe …like c-ssius’ right
bullet enter sections when i catch you in traffic lyt
i don’t give a f-ck if you a con…
get rocked, north west, pop produce the flashing light
the sh-t you do in battles, it’s not natural, lyt
your b-tch anne, how’s her bush? heard it wasn’t natural, lyt
your style is half–ssed bun b but you are not trill, lyt
the difference is you need watts for the buzz, i’m like solar: i’m natural, lyt
tech’s fly out, if you large and jumping…exercise out
will strike this guy out
be sure you have a dock right next to lyt house
n-gga, try me, act a threat, try me
if this was real war, n-gga, i’d fry day, clap his flesh
but since y’all dig this day day, this friday after necks

[round 3: daylyt]

i said, being marked out is something you gotta deal with
no matter how many philly swain keeping raps you got, it ain’t gonna equal up to this “f-ck what you talking bout.”
[?] for a third verse i really didn’t write a thing
then i said, wait a minute, this is kg the poet, i know he got something for day, so maybe that’s not the rightest thing
so i sat in my room writing for four days until i got that arthritis thing
now i am here, to show you i’m still a king, arthur, right [?]
right, it’s tinkerbell. i’m about to light yo’ b-tch–ss up
it’s like his girl got a flat booty: n-gga, your b-tch -ss suck!
it’s friday right, right, right?
when you get knocked the f-ck out i’ll be deebo screaming get your b-tch -ss up
we fighting i’ll right him, acting all mighty, somebody should of told your b-tch -ss duck
what? you want this sh-t to sail right? well it’s time for you to walk the plank
n-gga what, you gon’ die when i bulma son in the water, you gon’ need swimming trunks to survive
you get what i’m saying, son? i’m too cold, b-tch
tell your b-tch “chill”, i’ll tragedy wh0r-s beamer
it’s a samsung. one phonecall and your galaxy 4’s ringing
i see horsie inside of you. that mean your -ss gon’ curl up when it’s high-tide
pensions. it’s afflalo celebration i’ll be airing a high-five
wise-guys act tough behind wifi
fall asleep on a rollercoaster say they gon’ ride lines down
pound the air out his mouth like a live sigh…ah
guy’s die, bruised. realist n-ggas understand
i f-cked cal up. kung pow. thank you, black
that was the best defeat i ever seen, they should have t-tled the battle a young miles ankle match
the brink is that, f-ck what, i’mma spray, when i shoot the can
souls go superman. up up and away, whey!
punches is what a skinny man send
when we hit a big. it’s three little pigs. you’ll find a knot by the hair on your chinny chin chin
with that being said…

- king of the dot lyrics

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