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Random vs. Baby J
by
King of the Dot
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Lyrics
Aight, y'all ready? Alright, yo, I said, I'm here off the strength of my debut, and I made the list I know some people hate this sh*t But I said, “I’mma need much room (mushroom). I gotta take this trip.” To L.A., where some of the greatest spit, and the dankest piff Just to put you in a bodybag by my lonesome on some gangsta sh*t While it would take you 28 G’s just to make a zip See, my shock value? Enlightening on some Raiden sh*t And yo’ girl like my Styles ‘cause the wave is lit You didn’t have her on lock, so (L.O.X) she came to me to give J the kiss (Jadakiss) See, so don’t bring up no beef sh*t I’mma tell you to stick a fork in it But how are y’all gonna give Random Baby like a orphanage? Makes no f**kin’ sense, but no… I know you’re familiar with the team, helpin’ each other We built an army - you can’t take the crew’s aid (crusade) from it I learned not to get big-headed like a blueface hunnid But when it comes to battle rap, they’re sayin’ the new age run it And from the jump, man (Jumpman)... I been waitin’ for doors to open, and all of ‘em (k)new J’s comin’ You know, people wait for doors to open when the n- f**k it Now I’m on main stage, like I did some sh*t that the veterans did Maybe it’s the way Baby spit: someone get him a bib See, my pistol’s my problem-solver Makes sense why I did better in trig’... Or I’ll get the blade, and it’s like Scooby-Doo: I’ll just stick the metal in (meddlin’) kids So yo, so try to run up on me and the fif’ will pop Word on the street, I got mo’ crystal rock than a hippie shop But my girl make my moves for me She’s the one who let ‘em hit the rock And the money my Baby Got Back ‘cause she put ‘em on the glass Goes to show a fiend respects her mix a lot (Sir Mix-a-Lot) And we in Cali, right? We in Cali, right? (Yeah!) Alright, so you gotta make sure whatever you say hard-hits They want me to battle now, so everything on the radar has switched But you’re a decent writer I was kinda glad when they made our picks But don’t talk about shootin’ and how the only thing you’ll give to J are Smiths (J.R. Smith) ‘Cause you’re a f**kin’ b*t*h - time Baby J, huh? I pictured him more...deformed and small Were you born this tall? Somethin’s still shady I’m startin’ to feel maybe like you not even a real baby Nah, but I came here to battle a nutty West spitter Instead I got...MyVerse’s ugly stepsister I mean, this is supposed to be my chance to shine! An amateur wit’ the stars But thanks to Marlo, I’m not even the most random battler on the card Nah, I coulda been at the last Bunker Day 1 wit’ the other GZ dweebs But I kicked back Now I’m same day as mainstage on PPV So don’t be believin’ he’s on the same league as me I put money on the card: that’s an EBT I mean… oh, you guys are gonna like this I mean, Jesus, genius, you don’t generate an ounce of fame J ain’t a G - they just pronounced the same Let’s get this sentiment clear: we never been peers Of all the gentlemen assemblin’ here Only I make Caustic’s nose tremble in fear! Aye, and normally- Normally I’ll wear some type of wild drawstring or nylon thing But I ain’t even gonna style on him ‘Cause how’s this guy gon’ win against Qui-Gon Jinn? I’m real-life Top 6 on Dylan’s list! A freelancer...so long as someone covers the fee I’ll travel anywhere and f**k up the scene I’ll put 20,000 leagues under the sea Tryna mine me a profit I got ideas, options I built a fanbase: I been IKEA shoppin’ So you damn skippy, boss I’m a bad kid to cross You couldn’t name a battle I’ve lost So excuse me speakin’ highly of myself like Madlib and Quas And anybody who said you got a talented squad? Well, they’re just kiddin’ (kid and), cat...Calvin and Hobbes I bodied your boss Now sonny next to try - well I’m the legend that beat Cipher: Doug E. Fresh and Rahzel! You just entered the scene and already it’s diluted Don’t try, stupid What, you wanna die? Lu did! Facts! I’ll catch him nighttime at the studio, late when they producin’ Just Footsteps in the Dark where Baby makin’ music You a poor specimen Homie, the numbers provin’ y’all suck I’m George Jefferson: show at the Bunker, then I’m Movin’ On Up! That’s 1! Alright, yo I said, I didn’t give a f**k who my next opponent was ‘Cause I’m tryin’ to beat my last performance I got offered Don’t Flop before my first battle even dropped, so you’re not that important I even turned it down They’re like, “Why aren’t you takin’ it, bro?” I said, “It’s because I’m an artist before a battler. I was gettin’ paid for a show.” ‘Cause you know, what I write in the loose-leaf’s godly Performed over new beats, gained some groupies prolly Sold a few tees outta my hoopty, then I’ll be Headed to ATL to hear Lu speak and see QP bodied All facts - happen in one weekend But enough about me I tried really hard to watch a Random battle... And I’d honestly rather watch some random battle f**kin’ corny Anyways, I turned it on and thought you were the guy in the back who was always dyin’ to rap Don’t get it twisted - I was a guy in the back, but I was supplyin’ a pack See, if I spare his life, I’m retirin’ cat So take shots, we don’t ceasefire We acquire a gat And get it poppin’ like a winter house party That means we firin’ (fire in) back See, and on some boss sh*t, I’m givin’ you some punchin’ (punch in) So it’s only right that you have to work But talk about how he got bags of purp? I’mma treat him like every time I’m at the airport I’m ‘bout to get Random searched! I said, you prolly grew up in a only-white neighborhood My only white neighbor hood Alright, no, for real, I said… I keep a Maggie close, like the baby of Marge - at least- A (Lisa) few mo’ (Moe) shots will be taken like when you and a bartend’ meet There’s no debate on who’s winnin’, no need for the RNC But don’t expect any type of slowdowns from R and B (R&B) And there’s a reason why I get my respect It’s ‘cause I show enough love You think I’m the next (necks) to choke? I’ll show you what a Cobra Clutch does I got a red .380, and it hold enough slugs When it bang, it’ll make any Crip start throwin’ up Blood See, and after this battle- second battle ever, on King of the Dot After this battle, my stock risin’ fast And if you guys get in my way, two .9s and a semi spray You steal a bar, we’ll re-act on-site like…Whose Line Is It Anyway? And all the guns drew...carried (Drew Carey) by the team, and they all heavy ones It’s a judged battle, I guess But it’s my second battle ever on the Bunker So technically, I already won Time That was clearly prewritten, man By now...feels like I shoulda earned a nursing degree or joined a surgical team ‘Cause I keep puttin’ on scrubs and it just isn’t workin’ for me I got a few paid flights, but I need 2K live Gotta build a profile just to do a pro foul I said, pick-and-roll out, give-and-go style Baby, this a great assist You take a shot, but...aim and miss A D-Block fan: I’ll raise a fist for J to kiss (Jadakiss)! But you strapped in the car? Baby seat - buckle him up My last battle was a body, but it wasn’t enough I need a couple in a row like the Tunnel of Love! I said, I had the best pen in Texas Ain’t gotta write a letter to send a message I could sleep and still eat: bed and breakfast Homie, I got a lot to teach you I’d have to try not to beat you Your trip end in ruins: Machu Picchu! ‘Cause no lie...I’ve been gettin’ called “Gjonaj” this whole time! (*The audience cracks up at that bar*) I’ve been gettin’ called “Gjonaj” this whole time and I can’t bear it Y’all keep comparin’ Jafar to his pet parrot! Hey, Gjonaj - I’ll battle you Tell whatever set he repped I’ll (reptile) promise them he’s dead After I skin this snake alive and leave a body in the shed But if we box, he not ready My punches shred a (Shredder) squad: Bebop and Rocksteady! I said, Baby, you not just bad You part of an obnoxious fad with all the swag of a pop-up ad The type of sh*t his dumb ass is on He’d prolly go to see a movie wit’ his sunglasses on But f**k rappin, dawg Between shirts and shows, you hardly get a cent Your music’s not successful when all your bets depend on polyester blend I mean, any profit he netted from dope bangers is immediately invested in coat hangers You getting paid off rap? It is funny… You gettin’ paid off rap? I do not believe Your CDs sellin’ 10 copies each is not a hot release You kept a career alive more from boxing tees (T’s) than Rocky III Doggie, please! And honestly, I’m glad you and your people made it through But you really ain’t paid your dues My hard work put us on the pay-per-view So throw me a shirt, and get my brother Jason too ‘Cause between me and Baby, who’s really makin’ moves for Waystid crew? Man, that’s two Yo, I said, this geeky little b*t*h look like Ibrahimovic We got soccer fans - alright, cool But no, for real, I said… Jesus Christ, he’s just nice...that’s a Esco bar (Escobar) Mm-hmm, mm-hmm You gotta pay me to write (ride) on a track...that’s a Metro car Mm-hmm, mm-hmm I said, nah, it’s the third round, so let’s go hard I’mma do this for my West Coast stars Pay attention I said… I could body you and leave no evidence I’m not the one to test - if I (testify) Think this cat’s buggin’, I’mma have to push this pest aside (pesticide) See, I got answers for these squares if you think your life should be jeopardized We could throw hands, but he don’t wanna dance You really think I’mma let trick (Electric) Slide? Shiiit… f**kin’ idiot You must be out your damn mind I’m underground, but one step, I could blow up: that’s a land mine And wit’ music, I speak about quick flippin’, and kids listen ‘Cause it’s about makin’ a profit, not spendin’ cheese, big pimpin’ You don’t see my wrist glisten or candy-paint whip drippin’ But you’ll jet when I raise two deuces over your head: Rich Nixon That was stupid, son: Chris Griffin Some reaction - let’s go It was from me, though Nah, but if I ever find out that you’re zip-twistin’, baggin’ the weed up I’m packin’ the nina Run in your spot and in the end (Indian) take all yo’ sh*t: Sacagawea See, what I take from you I will sell (Cell) when it goes from the Trunks back in the freezer (Frieza) And I know y’all caught that Dragon Ball sh*t, but you’re sick of those types But just know every time I re-up, I gotta pick a low (Piccolo) price See, everything you brew? Watered-down: that’s a Michelob Light And in the first round, I said you’re decent That’s the first time I ever lied...in a rap But nah, ‘cause honestly, this dude sucks I’m too clutch He think he got a drive like me, so (miso) I’m souped up Three ‘Ks, you in the crossfire: Ku Klux This sh*t is crazy You could bring the Navy and still get your crew cut Nah, but they said the more beef you got in between yo’ bread, it would better the man - which (Manwich) Makes me wonder why this dude act like a b*t*h Get him a transcript If you owe me money, it’s like a movie I’ll pay someone to send him a (cinema) damn clip
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