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math hoffa vs. jimz - king of the dot lyrics

[round 1: math hoffa + jimz]
right now, jimz is like, “finally…(daddy’s spending time with me!”)
i could never be your pops, l’il n-gg-
that’d be a f-cking hoax
but i seen your dna test, and i wrote a couple notes
you puerto rican, you got wordplay, punches, and a bunch of jokes
yeah, you’re funny, but like p-rn money, this is f-cking gross
’cause i got the results, and i’ll tell you what you wanna know
cortez is his dad…but uno lavoz is your mother, though
but f-ck it, bro!
ayo, hollow! l.o.m, right? nah, that sh-t pretend
some friendships don’t really carry weight when it’s against the ends
he was spotted with that dumbbell, and i could have pushed up just to get it in
since i ain’t get to muscle m-ss, they brought me here to hit the jimz!
let’s get to him!
i’mma give you a vet’s wisdom
heavyweight, you don’t know squat, so just listen
me? i keep a grip on the pound: my sets different
you feel the burn? look down at your form…your leg’s twitchin’
don’t stress, ’cause when your soul’s apart, there’s less tension
i’m just schooling jimz on how to move when he’s dead…liftin’!
bars!
yo, i ain’t really wanna take this match
i did this sh-t for some foreign paper
you studied math, i don’t give a f-ck about jimz
that ain’t no sort of major
but the fans had you more than favored
i’m like, “without reason?”
you ’bout to get outseasoned
i’mma twist your sh-t worse than gordon hayward!
don’t force your fate
i have these hooks h-tting you more than drake
right hook, left hook: i orchestrate, make the chorus great
walk in jimz…walk out with the the saurus face!
so, we take it outside
i whip out the machines: that’s my office sp-ce
so, basically, you in a boss’s place
you got a choice to make
you could get slept here, or run and catch a sh-ll: n-gg-, this the tortoise race!
i’m the meanest, bro! and i’m down to let these heaters fly
this clip might as well hold paintb-lls: i wanna see him die!
two twins, they both spanish: i call ’em nina sky
push your wig back…vegeta-size!
leave him for c.s.i!
aaaaahhhhh!
you don’t got bars like that!
you got that mario mustache! (true!)
your bars type wack
so, try not to fall asleep (i’m bringing bars right back!)
facts!

[round 1: jimz]
this gonna be 30!
alright…we’re good?
wooeeeeelll-come back!
this king of the dot!
robbie giving the homies daps, give some broads hugs
after the battles, i chill with gully and ganik, it be all love
but now they give me this dirty, late-30s, manipulative, lonely, bad friend bald f-ck!
aw, shucks!
from dna to math
i had someone who needed help getting clean, to someone who’s already washed-up!
h-llo, grrrandpa!
i see some old folks who just don’t know when to retire!
after this, see four spics at your whip with ratchets, they ain’t changing your tires
we click, aim, and fire!
he’ll be done, right after iron spit: the clip named nikiya!
this a m-ssacre!
’cause, in toronto, i got motherf-ckers from rexdale to scarborough that’ll let that heat spit
my boys in jamestown call him p-ssy to his face: they don’t sneak-diss
you already got cut thinking you live that life! let’s not repeat this!
’cause with the razor, i’m nice (-ptoo-)
i could turn that slice into a deep-dish!
but peep this
playing the trust game with swave: i’m catching homi’s
you should’ve stayed on the shelf
they put jimz and organik ’cause we good for the body
i no longer play with my health
but, see, the .42 brolic now: it can barely fit my belt
it got me walking ’round like i’m ’bout to sh-t myself!
i’m sick as h-ll that they gave me this dirty–ss veteran!
you ain’t been movin’ on up since the jeffersons
it hurt me when i found out he was fake like wrestlin’
but you’ve been putting in work for years
well, let me give you bucks while you leave: here’s your severance!
this tool got everything i need: it’s like a leatherman
if i see him trying to flee up the street, and his feet start pedalin’
shots’ll turn your v sideways for thinking that i’m lesser than!
i’m going cuckoo, y’all
voodoo doll: i’m deadly with the pen
we miss that math versus rex, when there was blood up on your timbs
now you on the worst route
everyone left you on a limb
how ironic: you couldn’t get your career to work out, so now they sending you to jimz!
after you snitched on beasley in london, ’bout a bunch of sh-t you shouldn’t speak ’bout
if it wasn’t for them 2-on-2’s, you got drugged and was somewhere on a clean route
i seen it before: only the kids scared of you
try that funny sh-t with me, clown!
i squeeze rounds, extended clip
the ladder hanging off to the side like a tree house!
this that pat stay before the chain, i’m talking hollohan on crack
illmac after arsonal, when caustic wrote arcane’s raps!
this organik versus hfk
what you even know about that!?
and i’m jimz: battle different countries, state to state, and i did it all without smack!
let’s get it

[round 2: math hoffa + jimz]
i like that! (let’s go, hoffa!)
let’s go, hoffa!
yo, he said i’m washed-up
i mean, my last couple battles…i wasn’t motivated
somewhere along the line, something changed
fans say, “math, you falling off!”
nah…i didn’t love the game
but jimz thinking he gon’ take this win, like i’m f-cking playin’?
this puerto rican sure f-cked up…here comes the hurricane!
(-coughs-)
now, i learned something about you, that you don’t share in your blogs and raps
but, subconsciously, in both of those things, you left some parts attached
like your slogan, “stop being dirty”, how you thought of that
the detergent scheme you did with dna: you slaughtered that
’til one day, my man from queens called me, and gave me all the facts
he said, “jimz works as an overnight clerk in a laundromat.”
i said, “naaah! you buggin’, bro! stop it, you liar!
jimz is a g from k!ller queens, where the blocks is on fire!
if i tell him what you said, he’ll pull up to your spot when he find ya
he’ll be dumpin’ those machines!”
he said, “yeah…a washer and dryer!”
i couldn’t even respond to that
’cause i remember where all your old blogs was at
with the washer in the back…
how the f-ck n-body never caught on to that?
y’all remember!
so, when you say you was moving quarters…you did that in a laundromat!
d-mn, bro!
when you said you’d wipe down the machine…you did that in a laundr-!
aw, sh-t, bro!
you should battle surf! i’m telling you!
that’d be a heavy body
’cause you know more about getting rid of tide than everybody!
look, look, look…i ain’t knocking ’cause you got a job
but you popping off? knock it off
i mean, it’s a nice place
if you don’t wanna wash there, you could drop it off
but i got a prob
like, when exactly does your glock discharge?
is it in between jotting bars, dropping blogs, and…washing strangers’ socks and drawers?
i don’t know
you think i’m trying to diss you, though!
bro, i’m on your side!
we could be the first guys to transcend battles and make our worth rise
if we go on shark tank, with my hustle, and your work ties
we could take this “stop being dirty” laundromat chain worldwide!
i can see it now:
“hi, my name is math. this my buddy jimz. and i’ll tell you our reason for coming here:
we’re seeking a substantial amount of investment…so he can wash your underwear!”
you’re a f-cking queer
hoffa

[round 2: jimz, math hoffa + (organik)]
now, i really don’t do reb-ttals
so…i’m not gonna try to
that whole scheme was cool, it’s just…not true
um, okay, do y’all wanna know what rhymes with “math hoffa?” (what?)
bad father, um…
bring me their laundry!
besides that, what the f-ck happened to nyb?
your crew all gone, sh-t!
meanwhile, i’m still with my mob, and that’s on my mom’s kids
you try f-cking with my dog, i’m turning john wick!
i bring the steel in, see ar’s when i palm grips
’cause, you know, they were stealing his c-a-r in john wick
to keep it real, ain’t n-body in here scared of you, you tall b-tch!
ain’t no fire drills in planet fitness: you don’t alarm jimz!
but with that being said, we ain’t got all night, so let’s get this out early
here’s the part of the round i call…”stop being dirty!”
so, i was thinking “stop being dirty” when, uh, half the people in this room used to believe that your glocks shoot
’til you told verb biggie was going in you, then made a shirt that says, “pac’s juice”
g-y!
i was thinking “stop being dirty” when, two weeks ago on twitter
you told bonnie, “b-tch, i used to f-ck you in your -ss, then put it in your mouth!”
lol, like you were trying to diss her
my n-gg-, that was your wifey! eventually, you had to kiss her!
stop being dirty!
ha ha! i did it, though!
i did it, though
math, be quiet! i don’t want no beef!
just holla at me next time i wash the sheets!
i was thinking “stop being dirty” when he told ill will, “i’mma go to your house and chris unbias your wife!”
crazy, that bar was landing, too
but would you swear on your life, a couple years ago, you wasn’t asking chris to manage you?
rapist-lover!
i was thinking “stop being dirty” ’cause personally, i really thought you was thuggin’!
like, you click it and buck it!
’til you told serius jones you hit him, ’cause, that day, you only had one chicken nugget!?
well, math, i don’t want no problems, my n-gg-…f-ck it!!!
(-laughs-)
i don’t want no beef up in this mothaf-cka, up in here!
yo, seriously!
seriously…snuffin’ over nuggets! i swear i f-cking hate y’all!
what you’re so fake for!
but hold up, look at that buck-fifty on your face, dawg!
it makes sense you overreact over food: someone already ate yours!!!
hold up! hold up!
you got me livid!
let’s remove the distance
half a sh-ll on your head like a newborn chicken!
but y’all believe that math bangs the tec and the smith n’
carter deems’ pet: ya gotta be kiddin’!
this is tacos vers’ fried chicken: the sh-t way different
for instance…i catch you with your horse-looking girl, she’ll get bucked when the heat spittin’
and this’ll lift your gal up as soon as she see biscuits!
i’m not stable, looking at this old–ss man that used to be a star
nowadays, your race to be great has become too far
even hated on tsu surf wave
jealous of him, you know that you are!
stop frontin’, my g
even organik will agree
the only thing you have in common with surf is the “tsu” part!
people don’t forget, math!
(that’s time)

[interlude: math hoffa, jimz, + organik]
hold on, i got you, i got you
round 3, it’s on math hoffa
we’re having a good day
why did you f-ck up the stage?
i was h-ttin’ it! no!?
yo, i got you, i got you
you dropped one of the quarters from the laundromat! there ya go!
(-chuckles-) i really did!
alright, yo, round 3, it’s on hoffa

[round 3: math hoffa, jimz + (organik)]
yo…this guy just ruined the stage
why you f-cking with the poor?
i am from the streets…and i’ll start busting with the four
take your chicken, and leave your f-cking nugget on the floor!
this how i get down!
should picked one up, you know
i mean, look at his nose! sh-t!
if he gives you a close sniff…(-inhales through nose-)
he can probably tell you what kind of detergent you be washing your clothes with!
oh, sh-t!
but make some noise for king of the dot!
organik…i’mma buy you a drink tonight
everybody thought we had beef over a stinkin’ fight
but we twins, despite
i mean, i’m black, and you like…you’re like pinkish-white
but i can tell we in sync in sight
like, we got the same visions, mutual goals we wanna bring to life
like, when you thought up a m-ssacre, where dizaster takes a hollow in secret, i peeped it
that goes to show how much we think alike
i’mma get back to you
(-coughs-) jimz!
do you remember when you said:
“math said, ‘talk business before you talk sh-t’
get in the ring! i ain’t trying to talk, b-tch!
i’m supposed to be scared, because he got a buck-fifty?
i’m from the same hood in queens where they bugged 50!”
f-ck it!
i told you years ago, this sh-t was gon’ haunt you, papi
you wanted this ride, so i stepped on the pedals
now you in front of joffrey
this is tommy morrison trying to front off rocky
who’s gonna stop me?
i’m hitting jimz harder than a b-tch trying to get a summer body
speaking of summer bodies…god d-mn, bro! you slimmed down!
thanks, man!
i mean, from the size that you was, i would say you was “jimz”
now, you just “jim” now!
you been doing your thing-thing! getting a little trim-trim!
mackin’ with the b-tches! getting a little trim-trim!
i creep up on you with the blade! stab you until it sink in!
i’m glad you lost weight, ’cause now i can snap it in a slim jim!
you trying to be the next puerto rican to ride since…pun ascended?
you lost weight, but you still gonna die: no pun intended!
these punches? they hit serious…no punch intended!
i came to the dot to stop you like a running sentence
let’s keep it real, jimz: you ain’t never been hard
i got cut in the streets
you was in the crib, developin’ scars, wanting to be a g
i wanted something better from god
when i was in the streets, loading clips, almost catchin’ a charge
yeah, you was in the crib, loading clips…but you was editin’ blogs
like you said, “the first time i squeezed a gat, the trigger pinched my finger fat”
the first time i squeezed a gat…i shot a n-gg-, period!
i don’t need a rhyming word to finish that! that sh-t is facts!
i was fatherless, on the corners
you was in the laundromat, trying to spin your life out of order
you was missing the thug, i was missing the love
i just found my daughter
naya, i love you, i’mma see you soon
i’m coming down to florida
but let me handle a couple things…
dizaster said, “hey, gimme 5 minutes.”
he said, “yeah, bro! i’ll shoot the fair one. really! i’m with it!”
you been hanging around black people too long
the f-ck happened to the 5 minutes!?
every time i’m in the ring, you act jealous like some side b-tches
and, hollow, when the f-ck did loyalty come with time limits?
i mean-
that’s time?
(that’s time)
that’s time?
go ‘head! get it off!
he said, “go ‘head!”
let him get it off! let’s get it!
’cause you gon’ die anyway!
i gave you loyalty, you didn’t deserve that sh-t!
nowadays, people come around me, they gotta earn that sh-t!
if you hate fake, disloyal friends that’ll turn that quick
and you got a l.o.m. shirt…@ me on instagram when you burn that sh-t!
you don’t got bars like that
(alright, that’s time)
f-ck it…hoffa

[round 3: jimz]
yo, for some reason, everybody thought it was real funny the day that math got punched
forgetting the main fact’s that…math got jumped
it was 4 on 1, and he still didn’t run
and as far as dizaster, whether math catches him or not
the karma for that man will one day come!
now, would that have been so hard to say, and just walk away with a smirk?
see, a real warrior isn’t defined until he deals with the pain and the hurt
but you said you were gonna get diz, and never got him
and to me, that just irks
’cause we all know it’s a simple math quiz
you can’t just talk about the problem: you gotta show that work!
you are the original battle rap bully!
and you spit it so fluid
yo, your believable factor goes through the roof ’cause you did it so ruthless!
but nowadays, he couldn’t even go to the nike store to pick up some new kicks
’cause dude flinch every time he’d walk by the shirts that say, “just do it!”
you must’ve been on that cactus, jack, thinking he the only one popping the thing
you and or-
you and-
f-ck you!
you must’ve been on that cactus, jack, thinking you the only one popping the thing
you and dizaster had a hardcore match, where you was almost walking out in a sling
you should start showing dudes love, instead of -ssuming that they not gonna swing
’cause you thinking that man kind…is exactly what got you socked in the ring!
why’d he think ’cause he big that everyone smaller fearing for the rumble!?
let him know: if size really mattered, the elephant would be the king of the jungle!
stop lyin’! stop lyin’!
like, we only see you build a empire to watch it crumble
so i was never happy to see you get hit
i was happy to see you get humbled!
but now you got all this beef with hollow!
’cause he didn’t tell you that he, uh, had dizaster in boston
man, let it go!
he called you as a friend, “i’m having a son. i’m trying to change my life for the better, bro!”
but you greasy
well, now dizaster and tay roc’s on smack…did beasley let you know?
how ironic: the same ones that burn the bridges are the same ones begging you to send a boat!
math, you old f-ck!
i’m on the way to the chain, and right now, i’m on a good mission
i stepped up my bars and my blogging right out of my hood kitchen
you nothing but a pathological liar with a crook’s visions
so, bish, before you put that mirror down, let this n-gg- look in it!
you wouldn’t face these kind of bars doing ten years in prison
battle rap is not about friends: this a compet-tion!
i don’t care what he rep, he’s just another victim
math hoffa dirty, so that’s how i did him!

- king of the dot lyrics

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