a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

x-factor vs tsu surf - urltv lyrics

[round 1: x-factor]
your swags off f-g sauce
won what? you a drag boss, a crab that probably like his sa-lad tossed
your b-tches wouldn’t f-ck, i’d just finger roll in ’em
you probably got on socks with the finger toes in ’em
h-m–s-xual, .44 deading you
if you ain’t trying to catch these bullets you better have ocho next to you
i’m in a crib f-cking a white b-tch that’s coco flexible
give my lil dawg the word and have todo stretching you
y’all used to x spitting punchlines and metaphors
or hear him talking bout his dime, we seen her and met her for
but f-ck them punchlines, still carry that metal four
to run up on that volkswagen and throw six in that jetta door
squeeze til he dead though, then f-ck it i’ma slide through jersey, hit ars with that commando
body suge, use that shotgun and gave red fo’
so i’m not saying “gracias” when i send your the h-ll yo/h-llo
this is personal! it has nothing to do with you, y’all know, surf is my n-gg-
that’s why this -ss whooping is actually hurting my feelings
but you a scared cat, i would offer you a fair scr-p
nah, i just f-ck his moms in front of him bareback
camel clutch, smack her b-tt, give her derriere slaps
before i slide, hit em with 95 when i air max/macs
how the f-ck am i your rival when i was once your idol?
i get gone off that hydro, drop four when i let five from the nine go
and he wouldn’t survive with a bible and the preacher’s revival
your obituary just reads “survive by who?”
y’all know, mother, daughter, sister, auntie, niece and them
run up in the wake, crack nieces chin, get his niece with 10
put eggs slack in that hershey paper, stick in her easter bin
should i hit granny with the hammy?
nah see, it depends
if she brave, she getting slayed, but if it sh-t and that depends
i just break her feet, toss her -ss in that lake or beach to swim
don’t move when i grab the gat
i’m in my zone he slipped dropped his iphone
so holmes got his apple cracked
my b-tches wouldn’t let you sniff they period panties
f-ck one of my hoes? you better do some serious planning
cause you got a face like you 88 with a furious tanning
and half of your mixtape was copped by one of our granny’s
a n-gg- on twitter said, “x, you need to battle a big name.”
that sh-t threw me for a minute, n-gg- i am the big name
besides mook, lux and rex, miles, math and iron solomon
the rest of these lil nuts ain’t under my food chain
and that’s no disrespect, i f-ck with the boy surf
but f-ck outta here you b-m -ss n-gg-

[round 1: tsu surf]
first thing i hear when i touchdown is “surf, the midwest grooving
such and such nice, what’s his name doing his numbers
and i don’t see a midwest losing.”
well i can think of a few verbs for n-gg-s that think they iii
i come through the midwest cruising
x all factors, jit all men trying to holla cause the calicoe’s under this big t, will cease that midwest movement
he probably thinking we supposed to fight
like i’m a throw the left then i’m a throw the right
i’ll frown step back, pull that 40 out that holster like “bloah!”
you’ll see x across the screen like i bowled a strike
i should slap p-ss down your leg, sucker
you know suckers love to have bad name
cause that’s what they used to call his mother
i hope she on her death bed with cancer on her nipples
back home the code word for the nine is spalding
and the hood say i’m brandon jennings with the dribble
pilled up, strap down squatting in that range on ’em
hop out, two piece, bible and a thang for ’em
straight to his front door so i don’t gotta aim for ’em
ding dong, “are you ready for jehovah’s return?”
then bang on him!
twin .38’s both d-mn hands, slide doors, six goons and a d-mn van
for the pebbles that “ch-ch” go bam bam
if we 40 deep that’s 40 nine’s, that’s san fran’
that heckler sh-t rip your liver might splat
nah i ain’t gon k!ll ’em like that
straight between the eyes let it fly when the heater bust
nope, that ain’t mean enough
it look like fireworks ripping off the gauge
you’ll find x in a box up top like i’m clicking off the page
i was f-cking with your shorty, i could tell you what the s-x like
boy you would think we was married, got divorced
and still f-cking her the way i’m d-cking down (e)x wife
she wanna surf tsu, holla “tsunami!” when i’m hitting her
and only call me for the shish kabob, that’s the stick in her
if this was basketball then god dam it i’m ballin’
i feel like reggie and the fans gon be mad at son (madison)
cause i’ll put squares in a garden
if all the real n-gg-s muslims, then you pork
and it don’t take an admare stoudemire of goggles to see
i’m bout to son (sun) him in new york
never snitch, never scared, never k!lled, never bodied
time to pop, i lil jon the whole spot shot, shot, shot, shot, shot, shots, everybody!
i remember it clear as day, i was chilling one night
getting pipe from some yellow b-tch i met on skype
she said, “suck til it’s nothing left.”
the phone rung soon as she started to get right
i said, “who the f-ck is this?!” she said, “it’s ms. johnson, x-factor’s mother i just need a minute of your life
no he’s not gangsta, no he’s not a thug
his real name is delshawn johnson and the family calls him bub.”
what?
“no he ain’t gangsta, he don’t play in them streets
i blame it on that god d-mn trick trick and that d-mn boy meech.”
i said “ms. johnson, hold on…”
“what you stop for?”
“ms. johnson, you old b-tch you really sound sweet
i appreciate your concern but your sons a f-cking geek
if i was closer to the d i’d turn your old -ss freak
and i brought my camera so when you see these pics
you’ll be sh-tting in that pamper for a week.”
now back to you delshawn
we all know it’s an act ock, you don’t bang 9’s you don’t let that mag pop
i clap ock, mac’s out the window, dell fold, that’s laptop
semi automatic smith n’s around here
tell k-shine i do the zipping around here!

[round 2: x-factor]
you look like you evolve from dirt, pollen and dandelions
you ’bout soft as ray j but look bout ugly as brandy crying
so how you hanging slanging banging n-gg-?
and got all these hammers flying
when up to you was 13
you ain’t sleep right unless you had your pajamas ironed
you been a broad
when they see them slugs go, that’ll stop your blood flow
all your men will pause (menopause)
them marksmen, them my men indeed
they let that trigger squeeze with enough aim
to shoot the back legs off a centipede
i’m in southward, f-ck you, spades game
pulled his card, hit his deck with two jokers, cutting
then y’all will watch southward shuffle
you were fronting like that (?) n-gg-
surf must be crazy but you ain’t cee-lo n-gg-
you want beef i brought that meatloaf n-gg-
now i’m po’d n-gg-
i got game when talking with these hoes n-gg-
i’m in that no with a trio that’s creo’ n-gg-
and that’s real life, that steel pipe will pick his -ss up
he think he fly, that’s what levitations feel like
i didn’t murder jordan or tyson but yes i k!ll mike’s/mic’s
and i’m still nice with that metal why will i still fight?
that missile hit ’em, pistol whip em, get his grill iced
you’re like this sh-t don’t feel right
that’s cause he a little closer to feel christ
as of late though, i been feeling like steel right
steel pipe, steel knife and with that steel i steal lives
i’m running sh-t, i’m a possum, you n-gg-s still mice
if i was in position as this n-gg-, i wouldn’t feel life
i’ll head first dive off a bridge while the water still ice
and if i live, sh-t, k!ll a kid and do a bid, life
you got me p-ssed off with all this d-mn buffoonery
n-gg- you ain’t half the man that your daughter is soon to be
i run up on him while he rocking all that jewelry
then smack the f-ck out of him for fooling me with all that foolery
that jail time couldn’t prepare you for all these bars
them credit card scams couldn’t prepare me for all these frauds
you wanna win this battle? you better pray to all these gods
buddha, jesus christ, yahweh i say praise allah
that first one was bad, but i’d rather the sequel
cause what’s on my hip look like some sh-t from resident evil
it’s gon look like the oj scene after he developed that evil
but this glove’s a tight fit, now
i’m mike vick k!ll his dogs cause my arms great with the eagle
i be over n-gg-s heads, my sh-t just too mean bro
like for example, if he say he sitting on pies and he triple beamed up
that’s the only thing he did his whole life to get his cream up
then he’s depending on that ‘caine more than mr. peanut
f-ck everything about this b-tch’s existence
you knew you was gon lose before you got here
well just blame that on your woman’s intuition
every time he f-ck a b-tch all his women’s in to wishing
that for five minutes they could lend that sh-t a couple inches
stop all this fictional sh-t bout your glock nine
how you whipping the rock and seen more pots then a n-gg- dyslexic staring at a stop sign
that sh-t i’m not buying
but on the contrary if he say he slung dimes, he was (?)
i flew up to jers’
i said, “i thought you n-gg- sigs burst and y’all flare tecs?”
them motherf-ckers wasn’t crip with squidwards clarinet
f-ck outta here n-gg-…

[round 2: tsu surf]
he must think i’m micro-soft, he ain’t got the word about surf
them n-gg-s softer than sheep -ss, they ain’t heard/herd about surf
so clip on the bottom, top got the beam
all black hoodie and the mask off of scream
lock pick his door, “eeehhhh!” i was about to let it ring
but i ain’t wanna hit his mother with a rocket, yah mean? (yao ming)
tore his mans down, check down the hall, sig gon’ let it fly he getting ’em all
i’ll push the door open, he’ll be sh-tting his draws
before he can say, “what the-” knock his head through the wall
modern day jason, steve irwin, hannibal
he gon die trying to f-ck with these animals mac’s, nine’s, uzi’s, we got all kind of tecs
amber alerts, code reds, i’m talking bout bomb threats
yeah we dress like crips, but we roll like saddam’s set
the only remains gon be the footage, like the blair witch project
i notice everybody popping til you crack ’em
so for they garlic bread i call my italians, whack ’em!
this goodfella get joe pesci’d, they’ll find him in a ditch n-gg-
you got adam’s apple with eve’s p-ssy, you lil b-tch n-gg-
all these battle rap characters talking bout how they tools spit
but wouldn’t aim at any bar with a pool stick
everything i got in the clip, watch this fool get
cause over the cake that thing spread, this nine like cool whip
okay let’s say he did have a 40, he wouldn’t pull it i see his son like, “w-ssup lil n-gg-?
you wanna play hot potato, with a bullet
ask about me, on the set, i’m the reason that these nerds dying
check his twitter, that’s the only time his bird’s flying
my lil b-tch i’m f-cking from detroit told me he soft
and he’ll be lying if he ever say his tec’s spit
and if we looking for the first n-gg- to hit the door
when them slugs fly, then exit/x it
the sh-lls is for these guys, the swag’s for the hoes
if i do catch a body, they gon need another bag for your nose
he getting p-ssed on, pistol whipped if that clip drop
12 in his nugget, just load it and the clip hot
fresh up in new york, yeah i’m new up in this spot
grip glocks long range i’m like chauncey when that knick pop
let me find out he sending that carmelo
n-gg- like me might be close to his home
so i’m side clapping like spike lee
i’ma tell you the truth, you ain’t there n-gg-
ain’t nothing iii in your dna, same factor i look and see fear n-gg-
like, “aye b–boo”, you looking at a bear n-gg-!
y’all pretty girls rock, a club of b-tches
smack said, “surf, what you think of x?”
i said 0, hugs and kisses
but i shouldn’t even spit that, that’s why i’m underrated now
cause ain’t no telling when y’all get that
or sh-t like, mini t nines that’s them lower case tecs
i cap glocks and these caps lock, watch me lower case x
few choppers when we lurking, couple vests when we mobbing
a church going man doesn’t want trouble
so algebra 2’s the only time you’ll see x in a problem
he smoking c-ke [?] think this boy riffing
i f-ck around and get domestic charges the way i beat factor like a jealous boyfriend
he trapping? let me find out he getting green on the porch
i walk up like, “aye youngin you got a dime?”
then give ’em nine like a fiend coming short
jersey!

[round 3: x-factor]
i’m a martyr, i’ll slaughter your father
if we beefing you better throw a vest on your daughter
i’m done playing your little game
first two rounds kept your audience entertained
i showed i’ll k!ll you in a fair equal exchange
without compromising myself without or jeopardizing my name
but now i’ll do me, i’ll k!ll him with some punchlines
i’ll even use a couple url battle styles since it’s crunch time
f-ck it, we could have a lil trivia, make it a fun time
i’ll even drop they name in a bar at least one time
but first let me go in
you can’t fade me so if y’all say it’s a tie i’m laughing
my goons all blazers, if my style he try and jack it/jacket
but y’all know he ain’t built/belt that’s why his bars all slacking
if he stop he getting socked, stacey, i’m adam
so i want this battle over and that toe y’all got, tag it
that n-gg- already well suited for that casket
but i ain’t done yet, you must heard i’m hot dog, who want it?
i tell ’em catch up/ketchup but never relish in the moment
want beef? i’ll put cheese and lettuce on his onion
find your b-tch, my pickle in her buns by the morning
yeah, i’m the best to touch a microphone
this lil micro f-g sound like my micro clone
you ain’t tough, your body ain’t got a psycho bone in it
and you too timid, need to leave that mic alone
type of n-gg- to get nervous when that fight is on
bowel movement, bladder loosen when it strike his dome
you’ll p-ss your pants when that pipe is drawn
so in your jeans we’ll see (c) you (u) pee (p), no styrofoam
i was (?) now
i ain’t content until i’m bent and i’m f-cking halle n-gg-
your b-tch get out of line, you better check her like rally’s n-gg-
i’m off that plane lame yes, fresh from cali n-gg-
chrome pop, dome shot, and stretch ’em like bally’s n-gg-
i hope your f-cking grandmother dies of liver cancer
same day is the worst day your daughters birthday
she dies in an earthquake in cl-ss becoming a river dancer
you a b-tch to me, you walk with a switch and see
don’t push me cause you’re more p-ssy than a hysterectomy
i grab his gal, f-ck her well, she scratch my back til she break her nails
she suck my d-ck then lick his lips but i told her never kiss and tell
now that’s the battle rap motto to follow
cause those verbs were slick as ice but still sharp as a hollow
i’m not playing with you little f-cks no more n-gg- i’m fed up
i’ll let cortez escape death and tell tec to keep his head up
so you is just a sacrifice for them f up’s, i’m saying
you better start to praying that i mess up
my n-gg-‘s all nuts, no payday
it’s like s-x in the fifth month, they’ll cause a melee
them fours bend like a death day morning, no day break
i’m on the run, catch me in florida sun, i’m jj
i’m the best rapper known as a tec clapper
and i keep that snub that got a nose like x-factor
i got them hollow heads, leave him with a hollow head
have his mom’s crying like rocky cause apollo dead
i just fat b-tch bungee cord snapped on this n-gg-
i just fat b-tch bungee cord snapped on this n-gg-
honestly i’m outmatched for this n-gg-
i f-ck around put the pump to the back of this n-gg-
and squeeze until there’s lunch on the lap of this n-gg-
this battle i take it with ease
and by the way he had steak, mash potatoes and broccoli bacon with cheese
when that four blaze, duck!
you lil’ old faced f-ck
f-ck outta here

[round 3: tsu surf]
tsunami was supposed to take an l y’all, but it won’t be today
but you gon need charlie clips giving you tips
if 500 n-gg-s screaming, “get ’em the f-ck outta here”, cause losing ain’t in my dna
clip on the bottom, neck where the strap at i smell p-ssy… we’ll find where these cats at
aim for what? i just swing when i bat that
and hold 52 like a deck, so he at least gon get the gold and black jack
i want the homies, i want the kids, i want any of that man kin
he trying to surf a tsunami, question is can that man swim?
so by these [?]
i call the goons and say, “eli”
that mean shoot whatever that man in (manning)
see the sports bars keep it undercover
like, like, like grab the rondo, give ’em odom and save joe johnson for his mother
or take that extra amare stoudamire and bring the phoenix
give em throwback wizard’s until the barrel gilbert arenas
i could give a f-ck how hot is cause i make it a wet summer
you in my way, well i ain’t talking about your mother’s boyfriend’s son
when i say you gotta step, brother
if he did have a strap, i’ll look him in the face with the gun
cause he wouldn’t play action if he was faking a run
if i’m coming i’m coming you ain’t gotta invite me over
twin 32 six shot with the spin loader
holster under the arm in case i gotta clean the odor
heard you was eating i’m in his crib like a freeloader
he in the house like leggings and a tu-tu
laughing in nicki minaj voice, every bar be (barbie) plastic
no cremation in it cause all i’m leaving is ashes
everybody macho man til it’s ding ding with a savage
knew your b-tch was cheating but you thought your man was involved
til she slid out her thong and had sand in her draws
son of a beach, yeah she was surfin, multi-tasking taking pictures
posing, gagging, slurping, swallowing, burping
her head game’s a wrap we nicknamed her turban
then i got the drop from turban, heard where he might be
she said just look for a big nose n-gg- in a hp white t
but you gotta be quiet cause if he sense trouble he might flee
so i put the silencer on the chopper, bet he can’t hit a k like me
you got a elf swag with santa’s nose
catch up with his wifey, slam her blows
wap hold 100, hand him those
ankle shots, his b-tch get low cut; amber rose
oh miles your mans? miles your mans?
will he ride? will he bang with you?
will he still be alive to describe when them real n-gg-s came for you?
will he run, jump, use his chest when i aim for you?
he will? sh-t he must have the heart of bruno mars
cause he gon catch a grenade for you
i told my n-gg-s fall back, i got it, let me handle ’em
then show up with that mask in detroit and let it rip, hamilton!
it made cnn, news reporter said it was something bad
cops discover x, but only found v cause i only left his upper half
his legs flipped, his neck ripped, and his chest spin
boy you would think i was magneto the way i swing metal at x men
scud missiles, rocket launchers, sound like i’m letting grenades off
go ahead and try what?
but that thing got a beam like cyclops with the shades off
safe to say i ain’t running when the beam got him
you could be fast as sonic, that .45 will knock all his d-mn rings out him
he’ll be ghost, pat swayze, knock his soul out his frame
the cops will find x far, like if i shot the c, t, 0 out his name
baseball glove, snow suit, regular strap
he in the car, i’m in his backseat, metal to clap
by the time you notice it’s too late, melon will splat
six from me, lebron james, he look better in black
everybody think they nice, let me train y’all
remember what i said in the first round about the spalding?
i brought the same ball, give ’em 30 from long range
got the crowd [?]
last point i pump fake, jab, pump fake, pump fake, jab
then hit holla with the game ball
ball game!

- urltv lyrics

Random Song Lyrics :

Popular