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jai 400 block vs. dougy - urltv lyrics

[round 1: jai 400 block]
my n*gga d said, “who you got?”
i said, “dougy next.”
he said, “word? that’s what’s up, ‘cause outta all the new n*ggas, i think dougy next.”
i said, “whoa, whoa, whoa…that’s a lie, d (la di). he gon’ die, d (da di), from the show i put on.”
nonetheless…
i could give a f*ck what you think
i’ll let off a shot, let him try come contest
that’s just gon’ have his mama cryin’, slumped over the casket, and…beatin’ the box like doug e. fresh
oh, that ain’t catch?
well, f*ck that! bring doug tecs
leave doug stretched
for him not thinkin’ right, that’s gon’ get doug left
and his fake thug flex, the letters fit
think frederick…he gon’ bе a memory to the point you’ll think of doug less (douglass)
damiеn lillard, cj mccollum: know the blazers is out
‘pac in above the rim…i’mma flip this bum once the razor come out!
ace ventura: have them animals raidin’ ya house
got him trippin’ like ray finkel * guess the laces was out!
so, again, know that i ain’t come to play, though
no, i’ll put a round above his head like a halo
lay low…
think lil wayne droppin’ drizzy from young money
sh*t, he gon’ be wheezy (weezy) once he see the draco (drake go)
it’s either move or get moved, and i don’t feel like movin’
it’s either shoot or get shot, and i feel like shootin’!
real sh*t, the steel might do him
but if it’s no more of the steel, he gettin’ stole like i feel like boostin’
you act hard, but you hardly not
man up, is you boss or not?
you force the glock, i force a shot
think melvin terrell bryant goin’ corporate: i’mma off his (office) top
hustle hard, we all trap
whipped it up, brought it all back
turned a 6 to a 9 * if that ain’t sk!ll, then what do you call that?
walk in the bando, full of drugs and all straps
you’ll see nothin’ but eagles and birdies: it’s like a golf match
but nah, that sh*t was weak
that just mean birds is gettin’ served and eagles will leave you left smokin’
we squad deep, so that mean you gon’ have to put more than a hole in one to leave u*s open
that’s us
for that bull, the dog barkin’
gun sparkin’
shoot ‘til the beef done when it’s on * i’mma off him
just me and my b*tch
try to tamper wit’ my bae * i beg your pardon?
once it bucks (bucs), sh*lls’ll run in backs (running backs): that’s doug martin
but oh, if y’all don’t watch football, and those who like it bored of flips
that last sh*t just meant since he tried to tamper (tampa) wit’ my bae (bay), it’s only right i had to floor the (florida) b*tch
yo! tell this p*ssy, “call it quits!”
tell doug miss me, wit’ the bullsh*t
got a full clip, let slugs empty
bet this fake thug tempt me
i’ll grab the sk and put one tre on the king: he doug christie
but whoa, that don’t f*ck wit’ your mind? don’t think too hard
to better explain, i’ll send a shot full of power
he too small for it (forward)
to the point, what i’m shootin’ will send him to god (2 guard)
but before the battle, n*ggas had me losin’
i’m thinkin’ not!
all that yappin’ just rappin’ to me, i’ll get him got
know some real crips that built their sh*t brick by brick, i’ll give ‘em props
but if you ain’t know what that c meant (cement), they send the block (cinderblock)
but you and that plain sh*t you do in need of help
know jai ate off his own plate, i feed myself
so when you move like surf when you rap, you cheat yourself
words of advice: do you, g * why? ‘cause i was told it’s better to be yourself
n*gga, how you gon’ act?
[round 1: dougy]
ayo, i remember i was just a shorty when them n*ggas pulled a blade on me
that was the first time i realized i needed a .40
i was mad about that last cut, like the first time he realized he needed a baldie
yo…facts
if both of our teams beefin’, some of y’all gon’ be bleedin’
the other half gon’ fall, but ain’t none of y’all n*ggas leavin’
if my finger get to squeezin’…bwaow!
put a hollow in him like hollow wit’ him: got the n*gga leanin’
i wanna say he trash…but i feel like he decent
(*swoo, swoo, swoo*)
a few hard cuts’ll leave jai (j) open: i don’t play defense
how i get this seasoned?
get on some racist sh*t, hang jai from a tree like christmas evenin’
you a candy cane in the scene, so watch me pull this hammer out my pants
shoot at his feet
turn jai into jc * let’s see if he could dance!
and i hope you wanna fight, ‘cause we could get it in wit’ the hands
he gon’ swing, i’mma weave, and lean this f*ggot
i’ll black jai face like jayblac face: that was a mean reaction!
you old now, your young bull days is out
(*chk*chk*) give him a baldhead, and let it graze (grays) your scalp
i’m lookin’ for him in his grandmom crib screamin’, “you b*st*rd, you soft!”
i’ll let it rain in the house
now his granny dead in the living room
the plastic went off * i left a stain on the couch!
i only brung a couple of bullets to come out and hit you
i ain’t need plenty
regardless of what y’all may see (macy’s), one out this nickel will make jai see penny (jcpenney)
it’s no way he could step wit’ me
you gon’ get the iron right after we speak, like when j.j. met penny
y’all thought this was a match for me?
huh, got me laughin’ like “tough luck”
you ‘bout 50, up here rappin’ wit’ a young buck
you dumbf*ck!
back shot, make his body tilt like a dump truck
i popped up on 400 block * they ain’t even know him
i had to say shotgun brother
the toughest n*gga in jersey? shotgun mother!
free surf!
hand down, man down, i’mma make him pay
like the defense made the shot harder, soon as he see d, he gon’ fade away
let me flip the cloth, i switch writtens
let me flip the cloth * he think i switch writtens
knife on the top of the gun
slash jai (j) wit’ the ‘k if you think i’m just kiddin’
or i could end jai when the glock spit, i’m not missin’
turn to the side and let it kick: i’m scott pippen
you gon’ get the .22 after the .35 like taj gibson!
me and my b*tch got the nina, she like to menage wit’ it
she’ll rapidly clap it
when it’s a lil’ drama, she be stuck on rage
i told her, “attack jai (jay) while he rappin’”, like lil mama when she snuck on stage
you double my age! how the f*ck you s’posed to cope wit’ that?
put a .40 in front of him like, “look, n*gga, this how the f*ck you supposed to act”
i put in work to get exactly where i’m at
so if you cross the line, ain’t no ups and downs
i’m layin’ this n*gga flat!
you turnin’ ghost after we chat
long story short, you gon’ disappear after i snap
long story short, you turnin’ ghost after our chat
give this p*ssy the metal out the belt: that’s a chastity fact
soon as i air the gat, it’s like it’s a mirror match, right after i blow the steel
it’s like it’s a baldhead bitin’ a bald*head: that’s tyson and holyfield
i keep me a heavy glock
of course i got the grip, this nina already c*cked
got* she tucked by my d*ck
i popped up in jersey, lookin’ for jai on 400 block
wit’ a ruger and dezzi c*cked
nah…it’s just i (eye) and my .38
they thought the shooter was fetty wap!
this old n*gga yop
you ain’t even hard to me
who put this match together? y’all n*ggas really bother me
i’ll tell my young gun to shoot up jai v (jv), like it could make varsity
time
[round 2: jai 400 block]
this battle could go either two ways…
me whoopin’ yo’ ass wit’ bars and performance, or me whoopin’ yo’ ass the calm and cool way
you love talkin’ how the cloth different, pistol*packin’, and tool play
this lil’ n*gga must be drunk
well, since hennything’s possible, i should get this con yacked (cognac) for the stupid sh*t this dude say
but when it get hot, these hoes turn thots, and that’s exactly how your boo play
she let me f*ck where she live and she let me f*ck where you stay
in the bed where you lay
see, that’s my word
i knew his b*tch was a bird for the simple fact she blew jai (blue jay)
but the strap wit’ the rubber grip case this b*tch wanna hurt me
i’ll have his body underground like klump kissin’ ms. purty
he gon’ sink, he can barely blink, vision is blurry
i wanna know who think this n*gga is worthy
two extendos, espn films: let’s play 30 for 30
but look, before the battle, n*ggas said this was gon’ be a classic
nah, it’s gon’ be a gunfest
we equipped wit’ h*lla ratchets
so don’t think that the pump fake ‘cause it’s made of plastic
i’m from new jersey, what’s under the t work (twork)
so just know it’s gon’ be madness
but y’all gon’ make me lose my mind up in here
screamin’, “we go hard!” without sayin’, “pause?”
what a f*cking queer!
a n*gga make it out that league, like, every other year
but your career? like that henny in goodz’s cup
‘cause…for some apparent reason, it just ain’t goin’ no*f*ckin’*where!
but f*ck that! i’m in queens wit’ it
gripped up, i’m in queens wit’ it
been switchin’ clips and doin’ whole other schemes wit’ it
silencers, beams wit’ it
f*ck around and get your spleen shifted
he gon’ eat, sleep, and breathe different
but f*ck your cloth!
i had real ogs that never tried to son me
i mean, they just put me on they game, i was they understudy
showed me how to get money
but been my own shooter, so when i wave a arm across his head
just know…they ain’t teach me how to, dougy (dougie)!
but the cloth different, right!?
then show me how it’s different then, b*tch!
he crip…until i add a p*l*e to the end of his sh*t!
i will injure this b*tch, when i’m extendin’ them clips
tre swingin’ in the room like, “i’m sick of this sh*t!”
but i came here to get my rocks off!
and to get this n*gga knocked off!
i put that sh*t on everything: frank’s red hot sauce!
why force it when i can shower him wit’ bullets when it pop off!?
you might as well throw in the towel ‘cause it’s gon’ be a clean body when i wash cloth!
but when you battled twork, you said, “like in paid in full, all the gangstas came to see dougy, n*gga.”
i’m like, “you right. they did show a n*gga love, so all in all, that’s cool.”
i mean, it was what it was
but see, this battle could end like that scene in the movie
and i say that just because
if he get to performin’, wavin’ his arms, and i get nudged?
while dougy rappin’, y’all just gon’ see money get aired right in the middle of the club!
but you and that plain sh*t you do in need of help
know jai ate off his own plate, i feed myself
so when you move like chess when you rap, you cheat yourself!
do you, g * why!? ‘cause it’s better to be yourself!
n*gga, how you gon’ act!?
[round 2: dougy]
it’s a couple reasons you gon’ die, and they all factual
aye, i (a.i.) don’t practice, it’s all natural
the other reason? ‘cause you simple and wack
sugar honey iced tea: he don’t say sh*t when he rap
i give y’all barsyou from jersey, you steal cars
we shoot up cars * it’s nothin’ to scr*p!
get hit wit’ a flat left, leave you stuck where you at
yeah, i snuck in a gat, but this the streets
i keep a long blade to stay cautious
f*ck the side! i’mma cut across the wrong way: i’m jai*walkin’! (jaywalkin’)
you make your whole camp look bad, but they all frontin’
i’m on jai block wit’ a .40 and a westbrook mask: that’s 400
i’m that mean
a dyk* wit’ ocd: the strap clean
i talk different, but i keep it hood when i’m spittin’ at you
bwaow! now your cloth different
let’s see how good he look in his suit
came to put him in a casket, i ain’t wanna ride
blame smack * he put the cloth on a baldhead, like it’s summertime!
every bar is a sensation!
his raps got no feel
i’m michael scofield: i’m pen*breakin’
fresh pack of bogies: n*gga, the sig (cig’) shakin’!

(*dougy takes the next 15 seconds to remember the rest of his round, waving his arm to call time*)

[round 3: jai 400 block]
it’s round 3, and it’s time for me to level up
they said i need that jai vers’ rosenberg and showoff
but i’m like, “that’s cool, but at this point, i could give several f*cks.”
metal tucked
i mean, you gon’ die at any moment
but to get your ditch, doug (dug), it’s only right i pick the shovel up
url brought dougy life, right? well, i’mma bring dougy death
hit him wit’ the piece, in peace is where i’ll have dougy rest
nonetheless, if the judge ask why i did it, i must confess
i hit him wit’ the pitbull on purpose
i mean, i know i can’t curse, your honor, but in other words, that just mean i left dougy f’d
but f*ck that
y’all wanna know why i turned cold*hearted?
not this past year, but i lost my grandmother last year
so f*ck top, mid, or bottom * at that point, that was my last tier (tear)
a lot of n*ggas told me i wouldn’t last here
two smacks within 10 months * you do the math here
but you? a fraud, talkin’ ‘bout all that raw you pitchin’
paint a perfect picture for y’all, but see, it’s all a image
i used to get it
had my ex movin’ os without the hugs and kisses
which mean we only interacted when involvin’ business
i’m from the south ward, where every block get barricaded
not ‘cause n*ggas havin’ block party, but ‘cause n*ggas gettin’ assassinated, decapitated
if you got a strap, most likely you gon’ have to spray it
so know i don’t just rap to rap, n*gga, i have to make it
but you? you just tryna make it in everybody top 5
which let me further know outside of battle rap, you are not live
claim that he bang, but if he jam, he gon’ change, drop dimes
hit him wit’ the carbon, he gon’ die like oxide!
yo, this gon’ remind y’all of hassan when i pistol*whip him wit’ the heat
gash deep, y’all gon’ see the white side (whiteside)
his left side blew (blue), but blood leakin’ out the right side!
that’s gang sh*t when i bang sh*t out the glock .9
you a jackboy, mayne (jakkboy maine)? well, i’m a rider (ryda) at the right time!
that’s the 2*on*2!
and if that ain’t too complex for him
that mean you gambled wit’ your life wit’ snake eyez
which means you was the one to (two) die right next to him
but they told me i better not let doug be
don’t let up, foot on his neck, he won’t breathe
strap between his eyes, let doug see
piece full (peaceful), send a shot from the cal’, boy (cowboy): set doug free!
but you and that plain sh*t you do in need of help
know jai ate off his own plate, i feed myself
so when you move like steams when you rap, you cheat yourself!
do you, g * why!? ‘cause i was told it’s better to be yourself!
n*gga, how you gon’ act?

[round 3: dougy]
what you spit basic, so let’s get into that dummy sh*t
wave a arm over your head: that’s a typical dougy flip
i’m sponsored by two liquors, i’m on some f’in’ (effen) puffy sh*t
walk up on him, diddy*boppin’, then let the .50 rock him
or i could give him the little blade, my deuce flipped him
he get sprayed wit’ the little can’: i cool*whipped him
i’m f*ckin’ ready, i’m comin’ and airin’
mac (mack) on me: i’m cool pimpin’
but it’s heavy, clumsy mechanic: the tool slippin’
his crew wit’ him? that’s more bullets
like a death in the family, y’all all feel it!
if it’s a death in my family, i’ll put heat on my block, i’m warm wit’ it
speakin’ of lonzo…these kicks nasty! i’m havin’ a ball wit’ it!
windows up, windows up, they all tinted
i’m drivin’ through jersey, that’s where they steal cars at
the cops found jai in the middle of a carjack
that was a bar, scr*p, ‘cause the letter j in the middle of “carjack”
after i dump that, i heard the cops comin’
i’m runnin’ like, “f*ck that.”
i hit my lawyer phone, he get busy, fam’
i call him my “mr. cleaner”
but he a missy fan ‘cause he got me a misdemeanor
i told smack, “i need the heater.”
i got a suge deal * the shotgun he gave me was dirt*cheap
but it had a scope on it…that mean the arm came wit’ a surf reach!
next stop? jersey
i ran in his crib, put a gun to his kid
i told him, “you gettin’ clapped if you talk.”, so he stayed wit’ his mouth closed
soon as jai walked, he got the strap from the cloth: i gave him a house robe
he tried to fight back, i figured he might, though
he swung with the wrong right (write): i left him wit’ a typo!
but why roy jai wit’ these punches, when i hold a revolver?
lay him down wit’ a baldhead: meet my antonio tarver!
they always mention dougy when they spittin’ rounds
think about it * everybody different now
that’s my sh*t * shout outs to me, i started that
but if they ever say jai (j) was a star, it was prolly z like a starter cap
you never strapped
he prob’ly be around glocks, but you just need a flame
you hear shots, my drum pop * we don’t air (ear) the same
i been in the game
wit’ these arms, i’m usually nervous, but not today
after i pop the ‘k, the sixers without julius erving
you gon’ need a doctor, jai (dr. j)
time

- urltv lyrics

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