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rum nitty vs. nxt - west coast elites lyrics

[round 1: rum nitty]
daaaamn
i know you gonna come here and do yo’ sh*t fo’ sho’
this little n*gga cold
these rounds is only 90 seconds my n*gga
so i’m just gonna say my intro reeeeeal slow
we got rum* i’m just f*ckin’ witchu
no cap tho, the fans been taggin’ me all on the net
sayin’, “there’s a n*gga out there rappin’ just like you.”
i’m like, “for real? i gotta check.”
i mean he loud, animated, wavin’ his arms around and sh*t, he know all the steps
i’m impressed
n*gga wanna be rum nitty so bad, you might as well get a hollow next (nxt)
you don’t know who you f*ckin’ wit’ or up against
mini pocket rocket, i snuck it in
it barely take up sp*ce, it’s a compact
baby .8 (ate) like brotha lynch
i’ll up this b*tch and i gotta leave him how god’ll leavе him
constantine him
you get the picturе?
little nicky i’m finna dog a demon
this is body season
he for sure popped, burst glocks
i’ll give nxt (next) rounds
on me
he got the first shots
hoe stop, like your tec’ll blow and you stretchin’ folks
cause i’ma make sure he receive a (receiver) shot hisself like plexico
back the f*ck up, or you gon’ catch a pole
i’ll f*ck around and get the whole group hit if nxt (next) ‘too close’
i’ll get you smoked, no sweat
i’ll pop the clip like a neurologist, dome check
or we can just squabble, i’ll mark you out on the whole set
tell ’em “harlem hospital is givin’ beds out”…then i’ma choke nxt (next)
aye whoever got bro back, i’ma cook y’all
look dawg, i’ll give them n*ggas the blues and nxt (xanex), we call ’em “footb*lls”
this ain’t even a good loss
cause these rounds is only a minute and a half, you could’ve had cuz pay for extra
but you still gon’ die cause i made two of the rounds 90 seconds
and the last 187
i’ma stretch him!
lead buck, talkin’ ’bout, “this is finna be an upset”
lil’ n*gga you got setup, we can go hands up
i’ma pull up to where ya home at first, no facade
i’ll slide on a demon on god, sound like a kodak verse
get murked
you can’t keep it real yourself
(n*gga suicide or i’ll do the job, you decide, k!ll yaself)
[round 1: nxt]
finally
4th quarter is his gang i get the blade he gettin’ shaved
you know the “have you seen me” on a milk container?
this sh*t’s the same
buck 50, quart a (quarter’ll) have (half) a missin’ face
time out, in 2k up the energy
prohibition era, rum is history
you gon’ die tonight, are you f*ckin’ listenin’?
they say you never forget ya first…and this gon’ end in loving memory
shotgun to his shoulder let’s go, let go, lead blow
bloaw, every fuccin’ bar get turned around, he ain’t follow the dress code
y’all thought he was gon’ dawg me b*tch?
nxt (necks) and (k)nit’, so (sew) it seemed (seamed) i would get a scar (scarf) from this
all legit
double barrel, off his sh*t
it’s two*headed quarter; harvey dent
you*you*you small as sh*t
whatchu like? 5’4″?
you would think that the boy is so cordial
but where i’m from we measure heart, we don’t value size
this amount to somethin’ more than normal
do some fake sh*t, we gon’ torch you
they gon’ paint you on the wall cause they still support you
oh (o), you (u) gon’ be the difference between murals and morals
noose around his neck, they ’bout to be mad at me
you know how doctors have certificates on the wall of what class they reach?
well i’m grad*ually hangin’ up a master*piece
they say this brady versus mahomes
vice askin’ me what strap to bring
i told him any, (n.e.) case he (k.c.) don’t get padded chief
my n*gga dev camped outside his hotel
{walkie talkie static} “don’t leave ’til this guy leaks”
i’m foet, i’m sittin’ outside in my jeep
i let foe’ hunt nit’ (4hunnid) like yg
you can’t hide n*gga
they say you punch too heavy
for clutch, not mine n*gga
of course the quart’ll (quarter) outweigh the pint n*gga
i die wit’ it
first it was shotgun i put in the play bro
but i got a pound for one too (#412), sound like a gate code
ayo! i’m in ya town for it, you down for it
gwill, i know this was supposed to be your goin’ away party, but we house (s)warmin’
in arizona, he can’t play me, spin the block
you’ll get turned to a f*ckin’ pack when i raise these
errrrr, i turned nitty to za za, when i double back in az
so don’t worry about who’s next up cause now nxt up
go ahead and treat nxt like nxt ain’t next up
i’m takin’ everything necks up
nxt
[round 2: rum nitty]
aye obviously i ain’t did this for no check
the loc’s set
i did this so we can continue puttin’ on for the whole west
cause after the drake tournament
fans like, “this battle don’t make no sense. you f*ckin’ up yo’ rep.”
but what’s the most common thing a n*gga do after gettin’ a big plate?
smoke next (nxt)
you don’t want wreck
i’ll show you what this pole ’bout
it’s like i can’t breathe in this corona mask, i’ll pull the nose out
the loc’s out
set trippin’
tec spittin’
i’m finna bury old boy
just like norbes, nxt (necks) missin’
black smith &, i’ll out this b*tch
30 like a power strip, i doubt you live
i give a f*ck how you spell your name lil’ n*gga
you will not ease (e’s) your way out of this
the glock tucked
if i can’t get it out the pocket? bust through the jeans, it’s a dry f*ck
you not tough and you gon’ stop
doin’ the rock ’em sock ’em robot as soon as nxt (necks) get popped up
fn squeeze, i slide on dawg and hit his squad, that’s death in threes
at the funeral, shoot the casket, you can’t even rest in peace
cause i came in revvin’ the demon up like an srt
just me, makin’ my plate, sayin’ my grace
all by myself, that’s exactly how the alien ate (alienate)
give me sp*ce
i’m the cheat code
when they said you was out there tryin’ to be me bro
that just meant (mint) you was a light (lite) rum, but i got mo’ heat tho’ (mojito)
aye, it’s free smoke
i’m at ya crib packin’ a pistol, i don’t even knock
i just bl!ck the .4 and split the door, it’s like we went half on the venue
cause this is what you asked for
pistol whip him ’til the face on nxt is (nexus) cracked, it’s like i dropped the android
d*mn boy
you can’t keep it real yourself
n*gga suicide or i’ll do the job
[round 2: nxt]
i like how he got in the camera and showed us his towel
i was like, “wow.”
except i’ma take you to the balcony and hold you upside down
second round full throttle, get hit wit’ a hollow
tips, and rum, that’s a message in a bottle
i got him, lookin’ like a track star with this glock on me
go from insane to you sain, this a lobotomy
i load machines, got (k)nit in the head like sewin’ weaves
i hate when, n*ggas bring up your old job
i had custo’s comin’ to my mama’s crib before i tripled my amount
why the f*ck would i care about you workin’ at wal*mart?
you gotta get it where it counts
sh*t, even i was workin’ at ikea, n*gga i was pitchin’ out a house
you not no m*th*f*ckin’ k!ller, just cause you got the can’ .40
you know b. dot the conscious n*gga, that’s where he got the plan for it
gwill gave him the gloves, that’s where he got the hands for it
i even heard gotti threw him a stocking
i don’t know what mask you lent nitty (masculinity) but he ain’t the man for it
burst the tool
.22, point blank, game over, it’s mercy rule
i’ll hurt this fool, the eagle heat your wig
you don’t believe me? think again
you got insane in (and) the desert, like a mirage, this ain’t what you think it is
gwill, you know how much i charge, i took a cut of a cut, just to get nitty on this card
took rum, with an empty stomach, it intensified it all
my family official, the gang is totin’
my blood brother? aim and smoke him
napoleon dynamite my whole last name’s explosive
then run another job, on my own a (owner) put in work like undercover boss
louisville slugger, hit the target
bat to front of rum; it’s bacardi
brain dead, he can’t hear that way
beauty pageant, this b*tch gotta wear that state
suicide or i’ll do the job
n*gga that’s dead
i just got crazy on caffeine, that’s what the facts read
i got suicide after murder (murda) like aaron hernandez
blade on me, if they say, “it’s debatable”, i cut it close
get it stuck in ya head like ya favorite song
pallbearer, throw rum up on they shoulder, they couldn’t make it home
raise a cone
what’s cuz webb gon’ say?
i’m a kid and he’s an adult?
stay focused, it’s parental guidance when i approach him
he’s seen the block, then webb (web) dropped all of that grown sh*t
so don’t worry about who’s next up cause now nxt up
go ahead and treat nxt like nxt ain’t next up
i’m takin’ everything necks up
nxt

[round 3: rum nitty]
“web(b) dropped all of that grown sh*t?” y’all didn’t catch that

aye, to get to where i’m at today, it was a long quest
but each and every step i put on for this region that we call “west”
before i even got to smack i battled o*red, danny, magic, my dawg rex
skipped the pg’s, straight to the main stage while y’all slept
man i showed you n*ggas how to skip the process
you finna die next (nxt)
believe i don’t play wit’ him
he a marked man, in need of jesus so pray for him
squeeze at his cranium
let this chop in my hand off, like a thief in arabia
bang on him, drive*by clappin’ folks
spin the block, and pull back around (a round) like a catapult
your man a goat like manifault
on full with more pull than the banana boat
for real a shooter, grip the ruger
if your jewelry hidden, you finna lose it
i just roll up and take sh*t off you like a lint remover
is you stupid?
we’ll send a ruger to flip a mini copper
masked up, lettin’ it fly in disguise like kenny lewis
b*tch i’ve been boomin’
if nitty at 70% can have these m*th*f*ckas runnin’, then i’m like, “d*mn, i wanna see myself on 100.” like usher money
ain’t nothin’ funny when ya dawg dyin’, but we ain’t even goin’ up now
this is just a warm*up round, like a bonfire
i’m not tryin’, you screwed up gettin’ me started
b*tch i’m hotwired
b*tch you can’t keep it real yourself*

[round 3: nxt]
f*ck bein’ a fan of you
i’m fannin’ you
forgive me, my screws loose and i dis*mantle you
the dog ate my homework, excuse my animal
i handle you
stomach shot, i’m a lead giver
just like a zombie, you got a dead liver

[rum nitty]
this is my son. this is my f*ckin’ son

[nxt]
aye stop frontin’
said i’m his son, ’til i pop somethin’
stomach shot, i’m a lead giver
just like a zombie, you got a dead liver
make it burn
your vitals is flat, there’s no jumpin’ (jump in) the line, wait ya turn
a*r, tear up your ribs, get you hit through your tee
automatic, thrown in the cage, it’s a pitching machine

[rum nitty]
on baby crip that was hard

[nxt]
give hit wit’ a beam or get slapped with a pull ’til the heat breaks
put ice on the baphomet’s face like polo g’s chain
scope on it, lift a threat, hit ya set
call out “e*f*b” with one eye closed, it’s a vision test
this is nxt but i remember when you was only 4th, now efb is who you deemed as the team worthy
what n*gga from 4th quarter did you put on? you did that team dirty
you got a little pack that do not eat like beef jerky
dev paid, billy paid, them checks comin’ in still
while you live in gotti’s shadow, you’re a follower, not a leader, that’s why i don’t respect none of ya k!lls
all these f*ckin’ gun bars, but you never led (lead) someone for real
the glock peel, he got k!lled
lay a flower over rum, it’s a c*cktail
could not chill, i instigate the situation with a pound and a blazer
bounce house rental, i blew it up just to air it up a couple hours later
i hate the, n*ggas that said i couldn’t get this clear
avo keep recording, i’m ’bout to sneak him with the hammer, it’s clear
i got it in the buildin’, and i beat him on camera
who’s talkin’? quit the talkin’, i’m with fast action
i don’t wanna hear how it started, like pants saggin’
he prayin’ to god, “what i’ma do after that happens?”
gettin’ advice from the creator; ask madden
he’s my son, he’s my son
you wanna speak to who? do what with what?
i’ll slap the dog p*ss outta you, with an uppercut
hit him in the mouth, kick him in his scalp
stomp a n*gga out
i done stepped on rum so much that my foots stickin’ to the ground
it gets dark for him
bullets the size of chapstick, i bomb (balm) on him
so don’t worry, cause nxt up
go ahead and treat nxt like nxt ain’t next up
i’m takin’ everything necks up
nxt

- west coast elites lyrics

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