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murda mook vs yung hot - urltv lyrics

[round 1: murda mook]
now i know y’all confused like, “what’s up with this picture?”
cause y’all like, “aight, we know mook, but who the f-ck is this n-gga?”
i ain’t even pick this fight either, if that’s what you thinkin’
truth about it is, this lil n-gga asked for this spankin’
i was supposed to battle ‘trashidy’ for one hundred thousand
he said ‘no’ to a hundred grand and couldn’t sell one hundred albums
next n-gga they threw in my face was reed dollaz
that was for twenty five grand, i said, “let’s do it, no problem.”
soon as it was time for him to sign that sheet
ask anybody in his city, they couldn’t find him for a week
i was on every n-gga line in philly
his management, his mans and sh-t, ea’s, tech 9’s, gilly’s
when we finally got a hold of him, through all the litigation
we like, “we wanna know the verdict shorty, you got n-ggas waitin’.”
he said, “my answers no. i ain’t scared, its just i’m sayin’
if i do take a l it will f-ck up my situation.”
i got an independent deal mook, i’m trying to make a hit
i got an album coming’ -cl!ck- i don’t wanna hear that sh-t
i was stuck like, “what the f-ck? i gotta get this pay
like twenty five k on the way? no f-ckin’ way.”
i get a call the next day, heard this n-gga wanna play
okay, we did the contract signing and what not
and that’s how y’all sittin’ here lookin’ at ‘yung tw-t’
i know i said i’m retired, i’m apologizing to my fans
but for twenty five grand … i figure’d you’d understand
but d-mn, i’m in a loose-loose situation
because i’m murda mook and he the third string replacement
y’all expecting me to k!ll ’em, y’all don’t know he could rap
whatever’s lower than a underdog … he lower than that
so when he do spit his sh-t and say something okay-ish
it’s goin’ sound ten times better, cause its going against the greatest
i do think i’m the greatest – i believe in the hype
that’s why every time you hear me, i compare me to mike
example: remember ai crossed mike out his sneakers?
it seemed so much worse cause we ain’t think mike had a weakness
off of that one move a.i. got his fame
they forgot jordan had 35 and still won that game
dig what i’m sayin’? [?]
when we was young, he was a bum – no pants and no hobbies
dirty clothes, lice all in his hair, his nose snotty
b-tches wouldn’t even touch him, said he had the cooties
n-ggas’ll sn-tch his hat off his head and play saluchi
on the basketball court, he was p-ssy – small cat
they take his rock, he turn ricky like, “gimmie my ball back.”
if you had dough boy you couldn’t get your ball back
you goin’ forever be a son – you should live in a ball sack
and don’t talk about all your aks, ars
and shotgun, mac 10’s, nines that you spray off
gimme a metaphor, punchline – you ain’t never done crime
word is, he had an encounter with one time … one time
and it isn’t from no gunnin’ or bussin’ the shot
its cause he ain’t go to court for a summance he got
you not a don, red and white octagon, stop!
this is not who you are-

{time gets called on mook}

[round 2: murda mook]
should i do it later or should i just laugh now?
cause he just reiterated what i stated in my last round
all that rah rah sh-t, how you be hoodied and masked down
it sound cute but shut it up because i’m startin’ to get mad now
they said, “murda went to school.” i ain’t a hustler, boy listen
ask the homeroom, i was eight ball pitchin’
i had all my wh0r-s cl!ckin’
i was in cl-ss makin’ switches
i’m throwin’ p the point threes
the teacher point to me and i could still answer the question of “who was charles d-ckens?”
that’s an author by the way
but if y’all really pay attention to the sh-t this n-gga say
y’all realize he say the same sh-t a different way
one rhyme he k!lled a n-gga cause he sparked the pound
next rhyme he k!ll a n-gga cause he hawk’ed him down
next rhyme he k!ll a n-gga cause he forced him to drown
well if you doin’ all this k!llin’, how the f-ck you ain’t in jail right now?
how you get dollars, ain’t got six dollars for bail right now?
you make me sick! somebody get me a ginger ale right now
fans say, “get on youtube, let’s see what he got.”
after five minutes i couldn’t even watch, i needed to stop
i even let my girl listen she like, “he ain’t hot.”
i even tried to give you props aak, believe it or not
i said, “baby, you don’t know who this is? this yung hotness.”
she said, “i don’t give a f-ck who that is. son garbage!”
ever since lebron, these youngins got the disease
of thinkin’ they can come from high school and just hop in the league
that’s until they come across the mvp
and i’d gladly designate that -ss and show him college should’ve been they speed
sho’ nuff
i’m sick of hearin’ this mumbo, jumbo from he
catchin’ bullets wit’ his t–th, n-gga please!
[?] try me, i got somethin’ real in these hands
stop talkin’ ’bout you been blowin’ the trigger
please, you wouldn’t squeeze if you was half boa constrictor
battle between me and- hhuh, you know who the victor
and you know who the victim, we all know it’s this n-gga
he stick a pinkie toe past philly they wouldn’t notice this n-gga
i’m noticed everywhere, let’s blame that on my nose gettin’ bigger
he sayin’ he don’t battle but you up here like you nice
now, either somethings loose in there or them braids is too tight
cause that’s like a n-gga that ain’t never threw a punch in his life
thinkin’ he ’bout to just win a fight with kimbo slice
that thang ain’t right
with this paper, i ball like [?]
skip to my lou
stomp his gums out and hope they don’t stick to my shoe
he heard the rappin’, he heard the ratchet, his heart converge collapsing
pockets, tapped it, all he had was curtis jackson
we done burst through the drama, here come his mama, “what happened?”
“ma’am, his heart stopped. now what his heart gonna need is ‘murda’ backwards.”
and that’s ‘murda’ with an a at the end
think about that for a second…say i’ma win
that’s ‘a drum’
easy
beep beep, beep beep, beep beep

[round 3: murda mook]
last round i saw it all on ya face duke, you was tight
you was thinkin’, “this is the longest three minutes of my life.”
you was right
but if you thought three minutes ain’t burn right
imagine how long that ride gon’ feel on that turnpike
y’all g-ssed hot, sat at the light, this lil’ n-gga
it’s unfortunate too cause i like this lil’ n-gga
you know the feeling you get when you whippin’ ya small son?
it’s hurtin’ you cause it’s hurtin’ him, but you know it’s gon’ help in the long run
but you gotta teach him a lesson before they get too stubborn
my flow like a r-t-rded kid gettin’ his d-ck l!cked by his mother
you ain’t impressive with all that aggressive sh-t
that ain’t clear?
you wanna impress me? jump up in the air and stay there
believe me, there’s viewers out there that hate my guts
you said i lost to millz, arty, jones and lux
they would love nothin’ better than to vote for you, i trust, but
what you said tonight, it…just wasn’t enough
tough
even the philly people that wanna support you
that thought you could pull it off and say somethin’ resourceful
they shakin’ they head like, “even his best shot was awful.”
understand, in the city of brotherly love gon’ wanna abort you
you was better off just lettin’ me extort you
at least you could’ve made an excuse sayin’ i forced you
but losin’ toe to toe, head to head for the bread
how you gon’ explain this to ya kids when you tryin’ to put ’em to bed?
but wait, what i even gotta do to you dudes?
i’ve won so much, then naturally y’all want me to lose
but if i lose y’all be disappointed to see me come to an end
so think again, and you’ll realize, subconsciously you want me to win
hide in the pen’? he wouldn’t make it past the holding cell
then start negotiating, turning into samuel
hang ya head, you talkin’ prison and can’t do jail
can you do the tombs, the bookings that at least?
they ain’t even process the papers and he ready to speak
what’s sad is, you only pinched for disturbing the peace
he like, “give me a sheet. i’ll tell it all if you give me release
i can tell you all the sh-t that’s goin’ down in the street
i can tell you all the hustlers that got it for cheap
i can tell you why they put joey jihad to sleep
[?] and where they sleep
[?] house number 363
you ain’t gotta use no stairs, this door right there 1b.”
you rat, but this new york state of mind is embedded
tryin’ to make me forget it, be a waste of time
watch out the window open, he thought crept slow
poke his head up, get up, i’m dead up
see me, let go, curtain close, no, won’t be no next show
unless biggie smalls is a guest, then i guess so
i got some friends that keep a handful of blades
that’ll cut a n-gga like they had a handful of spades
commit suicide, fall on that grenade
chop off both your legs, throw ’em inside a wave
f-ck a crackhead with aids once she on the five day
[?] gimme my check now
[?]

- urltv lyrics

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