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bar fight™ - t-moe vs. blvff | s1:e4 - team backpack lyrics

[round 1]

[verse: t*moe]
boy, i feel like 2pac on this rooftop
raheem in the alley or raheem with the boom box?
get clapped by your homie or k!lled by a few cops?
sad to say but nowadays, you can’t decipher who opps
just pray to god that you not
they wanted to me go at blvff in my lyrics
but i don’t battle rap, besides that, i don’t bluff in my lyrics
but don’t think i don’t got the spirit ’cause oh, anyone can’t get it
wait o*n*e, one, that’s different, i’m tame, just don’t play timid
i’m not really into wishing, i’d rather use intuition
the school of hard knocks alumni but can’t end tuition
that’s what you call an entendre, i just triple dipped it
a small world and i’m outer sp*ce so how is the sky the limit?
oh, i’m just gettin’ heated now
bеst lyricist in texas, it’s cool for you to repeat it now
bе not ashamed, i know a couple lines ago
i told you i was tame but i’m too animal
i don’t know a person can stop my reign, i’m just sayin’
word to mother, i swear to the holy father, i will school you
will i stop? who you kidding?
i’ll add a lesson, it ain’t uncool to go over heads
you’ll rewind this here with yo peeps
like ain’t t a spazzer? check my grammar, now relatively speaking
you had to compare me to a boxer, you’d say fam ali, huh?
i bet y’all missed the whole scheme ’cause it was family
i’mma be fly until i die, you could say fam, aaliyah
and if at first, you don’t succeed
[verse: blvff]
y’all be rapping this and that and thinking that be where the passion is
say they fight for people but they actions more pacifist
only time i cap is when it’s fitted on the back
you pass a flame or pacififer, kiddo? you ain’t got the back for this
i speak in actions, so tell me where all that acting get you
‘stead of front place in a line, where all them gon’ forget you
i done held this place in mine ’cause they gon’ regret to erase
i’m penned in they mind, ’cause we don’t f with pencils
ain’t no rubbing out my failures, that’s a tattoo
we was told when hurt to suck it up, that’s word to vacuums
boy, your flow ain’t top shelf, the proof be looking at you
so, i ain’t give a duck you off the “hen”, them birds is bad news
’cause some my homies never making it back
sh*t i’ve seen would give a panic attack
in a panic, you probably be turning your back
on the people that giving you daps
f all that bragging and boasting and cap
say you got drive and then jump in the back
i ain’t a poster child for struggle, so i give what i get back, homie
say they goku, but they more krillen
said if they hate, you doin’ right, so i need more villians
old soul, they tryna cop me ’cause i’m all vintage
ain’t get a think out your bars, them hoes is old spinach
barely pop an eye to see you rap
it’s all for nothing, see my verses more plans
i’mma use these bars for something
y’all destruction from consumption of the fame that they be bluffing
word to my brother in the back, i think the public need adjusting
hold up
[round 2]

[verse: t*moe]
young spitter move that dope, i ain’t talking crack for sale
i’m talking raps for sale, hitman lookin’ through that scope
i’ll put cheese on your head like a packers’ helmet
back*back, i’m h*llbent, whack raps get dealt with
dinner’s served, somebody ring the cattle bell
baby boy wanna rap with melvin
but they might know this d generous like a strap on ellen
bump all these spitters
flow fancy like the pinky on a tea sipper
buying videos views, tuh!
page full of fake plays like a flea fl!cker
they told me to do it, blame them, i’m sorry
nevermind, bump being nice, boy, you sorry
you could’ve wrote that song for ciara
you still wouldn’t get booked to perform at n0body party
young boy move that dope
and i’m ’bout to sign a deal and you ain’t even know
show bunnies in my crib, no hugh heff though
unidentified fly like a ufo
boys in the street saying “you next, bro”
2pac in his prime, this the new death row
tryna feed all my dogs like a few petcos
they gon’ hate the day that they ever met moe
[verse: blvff]
holes in my shoes, i don’t need no fits for the gram
no pot, so we p*ssed in the pan
no shot that we missing your mans
ray gun burnt son like we fixing a tan
talk hot but you live as a fan
y’all one speed, won’t spin in the end
my whole team got beef with your friend
then i ain’t say “i”, i say “we” ’til i’m dead
and i’m deadass about it
stack lookin’ thin, i could tell you ain’t count it
rap soundind mid, boy, they clapping again
see the crack in your brim, but they tell me they doubt
the best lyricist? probably not
i cl!ck the shift, you hold he caps lock
the bigger picture probably photoshopped
so my latest drop won’t be a photo op
tryna ease into progress
y’all eat bricks, tryna leap in the pocket
mob ties? more like mob wives in the street
on the front lines while you bump lines off a key
we side with the east side for the process
so be silent for each side of you coffins
a tree size to a pea size, you can call it
i’ll decide if you see light in the morning
who they gon’ send for me?
already made peace with the end, homie
you words broken plane, they ain’t land, homie
we ain’t gon’ make peace in the end, homie, for sure
y’all ain’t know where you aiming
they say break a leg, but i feel like i sprained it
i painted a pic of my pain and then framed it
i hope it ain’t fall of the wall when they hang it

[round 3]

[intro: t*moe]
look

[verse: t*moe]
[?]

[verse: blvff]
[?]

- team backpack lyrics

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