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lirik lagu king of the dot - bigg k vs. rum nitty

[round 1: rum nitty]
we got rum nitty…versus bigg k, finna boost it up a notch
do y’all recall the pulp fiction bar i said against ave?
truly that was hot
remember; “he marked her out before the needle”?
same sh-t
cause now you got a shooter on the dot
i won’t let this b-tch play wit’ me
that’s the type sh-t i’ll put you under for k (4k); 1080p
you ’bout to get all the smoke, and take so many punches
they fans yellin’, “get off the ropes”
play it cool or you gon’ die; facts
.9 strapped, i bring them shooters where you hide at
pull his tool you better fight back
one in the face hit him
laid out wit’ his leg twitchin’
got k kickin’
i knew you wouldn’t like that
{stumble}
the dude brave, the whole world thinkin’ it’s over for you?
and you know why too k (y2k)
i’m ’bout to trip
if it’s funk, i run to the trunk like ong bak and flip
you a b-tch, got all your fans on block and sh-t
but watch ya tone, i’ll push ya melon in (melanin), you’ll never see son (sun) block again
you done hit a roadblock
started off so hot then ave took yo’ spot
lil’ draco, you don’t get no props
i call him “drako” ’cause k ain’t got no stock
i’ll pistol whip you wit’ a loaded glock
the .40 goin’ back and forth wit’ a b-tch: “lieutenant roast a botch”
i had to k!ll him, and we ain’t comin’ for no cl-ssic, i’ma bag a n-gg-
pack a smith &
so you k!llin’ me like check engine light
you won’t make it past a mission (emission)
won’t body no one, chopper totin’
dome shot, got a hollow smokin’, b-tch chill you not a soldier
actin’ like caine off menace ii society, cause somethin’ big will (wheel) get bodied over
we came in with six sticks, so keep it on the low, like r. kelly…try not to miss the (mr.) big b-tch
we in yo’ city, glocks is squeezin’
lookin’ for yo’ spot i’m creepin’
robbin’ season, called you “easy”
tryin’ to clear out ya house in virginia like dr. sebi
and you can’t keep it real yaself
n-gg- suicide or i’ll do the job, you decide
(k!ll yaself!)

[round 1: bigg k]
you ain’t got a thug witchu
i hope the pocket snub witchu
cause i’ll beat the sh-t outta crip ’til not a drop of blood in you
they said, “bring ya punchlines. he wanna lock it up witchu.”
all i brought was the blade, i came to chop it up witchu
i dead those ops, peons catch elbow drops
i stomp heads, in [?] until the velcro pop
in the hoodie, i won’t miss, work to mello, watch
guns blazin’, rum shakin’ like jell-o shots
i said let’s rock and roll sucka, i’m a pole tucker
i take it everywhere, i’m ‘never scared’ it’s a bone crusher
i’ll lift ya soul wit’ a machine, get ghost busta (ghostbusters)
they bankin’ on ya to beat the angry farmer, i’m the goat puncher
this mac-11 full of lead and it throw thunder
i drop the metal on ya head like the road runner
a known gunner, two tone strap, chrome rubber
the sig’ spittin’, ya wig drippin’, soul brother
i got yo’ number, eager to rock ya
he’ll blackout like he was t’challa, the king of wakanda
blood smearin’ off (smirnoff) the handle, it ain’t a liter of vodka
crack rum in his coconut, i made a pina colada
my shooter pull a k out, throw the magazine in the chopper
this square’s noodles will get laid out like a sheet of lasagna
i spread guns around like i’m cheatin’ in contra
i got the aa 12 on the steps like i needed a sponsor
monster, i’m sellin’ powder and the sour if you didn’t know
that’s green over the girl like a mistletoe
i’m crazy wit’ the .380 i’ll let a pistol blow
that mean i’m insane wit’ the tre, but i ain’t crippin’ tho
if it ain’t 4th quarter it’s team homi, you roll wit’ a clan
you met these people through battle rap but act like y’all closer than fam’
you got this gang and that gang holdin’ ya hand
but you ain’t no gangsta ’til you stand alone as a man
fam’! it ain’t west coast culture, it’s a government side business
to destroy your community, usin’ those that reside in it
and y’all still g-ngb-ng, when no loyalty lies in it
so i don’t feel bad watchin’ ya kids join it and die in it
stupid! f-ckin’ test tube kids
whatchu gon’ tell me? where you from they wouldn’t let you live?
“i mean, we had to bang we didn’t have a choice.” yes you did
actin’ like you had a million of yo’ ops outside, you was not outside
you from arizona it is too motherf-ckin’ hot outside

[round 2: rum nitty]
aye you prolly thinkin’, all i got is gun bars and sh-t, right?
well how ’bout this? i’ll beat you the f-ck up
get snuffed and all, break ya nose, bust ya jaw
we cross roads you get a ruptured skull
one hand, black both eyes, uncle charles
you got all the fans and check they scared of him
and that’s dope…’til you bring that sh-t to the wrong n-gg-s and next they (day) air on him
i get a leg pop, raise glocks
light on a pole, that old kendrick, give k. dots
repeat face shots, i’ll pull this extended family and give ’em all the can’ in the same spot
i ain’t switch it up once
all i talk about is pistols and extendos, i really stick to my guns
aye, you better lay low, the whole gang tote
get the best strands, that’s grade a smoke
sh-lls hoppin’ out on the flo’ when the .8 blow
it went from rappin’ to pickin’ up cases like j-pro
40 locs drippin’, we call bluffs
so when you’re up, only one that been off the porch will go wit’ me
who you body? quit playin’
you just poppin’ jaw, for all that talk you get slain
won’t let it off this b-tch lame
i’ll smack him, take kenny’s smith, you just talk a good game
i’ll crack ya chin
move? you get smacked again
boy! stand still when i address you, i’m tryin’ to make a man of ken (mannequin)
shotgun, you get laid flat, saw off a barrel
i’ll cut that b-tch off just for k camp
your career done died, where’s ya drive?
all we see is bigg (b.i.g.) goin’ backwards like ‘hypnotize’
you get the line?
that was madness
i reach for the strap then give bigg a (bigga) .9
aye, to keep it on the real, before i let this geek try to play me
i sneak da n-gg- three times crazy (3 x krazy)
aye, i slide wit’ the tool, no cap
every n-gg- on my side they gon’ shoot, try you gon’ lose
i get k (kay) slay-ed, soon as he throw shade, .45 interview (in the view)
if you thinkin’ he do all that sh-t he say y’all wildin’
i’ll put a muzzle on the gun i cop, dawg (dog) and show you k non (k-9) violent
aye somebody holla at the boy for me ‘fore the .4 torch him
i’ll send him to the lord shortly
test me, i’ll let a fn off
baow! stretch the dawg (dog); toy story
b-tch, you can’t keep it real yourself
(suicide or i’ll do the job, you decide, k!ll yourself)

[round 2: bigg k]
i’ll dump rum out in the ocean; ‘big pimpin”
you food, but i never let that fake sh-t fly; mcchicken
the fifth lickin’
out the whip, stick shiftin’
or roll up and get poked up, i’m nit’ pickin’
b-tch listen, let’s see who’s punches h-t the hardest
they gon’ rummage in the garbage and see rum is in the garbage
bl–dy from each limb, i get to cuttin’ through ya cartilage
i want smoke with this g pen and it’s a 100 in the cartridge
i’m heartless
i’ll lift his -ss from his shoes
fully automatic, i mean you askin’ to lose
put his lungs in his lap, split his calf into twos
i got drums in the back like vlad interviews
who g is in question?
i’m strapped like a lethal injection
big boy, and didn’t have to join a battle rap team for protection
at botb when i met him, he said, “my g you a legend.”
so now to peep your progression, i get to see my reflection
we both punch, you stop and wait for people to catch ’em
you never scheme in succession, i throw wit’ speed and aggression
i let you grow, from a child, just to teach him a lesson
i seen the holes in ya style, like a yeezy collection
bless him, if he catch ’em, i throw ’em like foreman
broad day, the guy knockin’ on ya door like a mormon
ya flow, gettin’ borin’ like 4 in the mornin’
thought you was the hardest dunn tourin’ how you be over performin’
warn him, or get ko’d
hot, this sh-t fuego, stop
you tryin’ to go blow for blow wit’ the sensei though
big -ss white boy that can shoot; nick mayo
everybody a soldier ’til you pull a big drako
rum nitty?
b-m nitty?
you mean the guy that got bodied by konshis pilot on king of the dot back in the day but the fans don’t talk about that cause y’all d-ck eaters
b-m nitty?
oh okay, oh you mean the guy that got 30’d by jc and blamed it on biasedness even though i kick jc -ss in a room full of people that hate my guts
b-m nitty?
b-m nitty?!
pretty much you can do what you want when the fans on ya
but what goes around, come around and that’s karma
so you can have the juice right now ’til they back off ya
i’m still here cause i got the sauce, it last longer

[round 3: rum nitty]
organik done went out…and got some real crips on the stage now
b-tch i’m bacc
and we spell that with two “c’s”, you know i been took the k out
let’s go
keep the tec low, if i miss i’m spinnin’ back on him like a death roll
stretch dope, never was a law abiding citizen but we sell blow
trippin’ you gon’ get smoked
we gonna cut all this k bull (cable) off…and bring extensions in from next do’
aye! high commodity
and you not poppin’ when you got more blocked followers than you got that followin’
that sh-t done dropped ya stock huh?
n-gg- got about 400 block’ed and can’t stop a shotgun
aye, but n-gg-s wanna get personal, f-ck it
you uno lavoz if you diggin’ dirt, cause you workin’ wit’ nothin’
i’ll spin ya block with 12’s out, get the ricky treatment
soon as he got shot he fell down
put you to sleep, somethin’ hot let sh-lls out
get a bald head in the nap, ken, (napkin) like “knock yaself out.”
aye, somebody get this b-tch from trippin’
before i smoke bigg k, r.i.t. on him like a mississippi n-gg-
you just talk a lot
’bout how you robbin’ spots, poppin’ shots and choppin’ rocks
but they call you “pinky” when you on the block
blade swing around, cut pinky down, ronnie lott
i slaughter sh-t, pop the clip and give you half the burner; harvey dent
gun b-tt you ’til ya top go in
dent your (denture) sh-t wit’ the stick like poligrip
aye, we brought steel poles in
i’m seein’ you lost a lot of weight, but this old mac will make you feel mo’ slim
and we don’t wanna hear no motherf-ckin’ mixtape verses, you wildin’
show so f-cking respect
at least give me one from yo’ alb-m
aye, b-tch n-gg-, you done took an l twice
and i don’t give a f-ck how you address bars, you not the url type
can’t keep it real yaself
(n-gg- suicide or i’ll do the job, you decide, k!ll yaself!)

[round 3: bigg k]
i wrote this wit’ a spliff, pourin’ an 8th up in a sunkist
you are nothing more than battle raps new flavor of the month b-tch
but fans change and it can come quick
so pick a lane that you can run wit’
you nice as f-ck, but you do say a lot of dumb sh-t
you told will, “i grab the nose, runnin’, i’m comin’ down wit’ something.”

{crowd starts going crazy}

[bigg k]
y’all d-ck eatin’. i’ma tell y’all why you d-ck eatin’. i’ll tell you why you d-ck eatin’ soon as you stop d-ck eatin’, i’ll tell you why. you know what i’m sayin’? i can tell you why you d-ck eatin’ if you just stop. i can tell you why

“i grab the nose runnin’, i’m comin’ down wit’ somethin'”
and it sound disgustin’
yeah the crowd was buzzin’
but if you wait a minute…hold it clown
bring it back
slow it down
we just out here callin’ a whole gun “noses” now?
wow
well f-ck it, i call my gun a “foot” since y’all ridin’ coat tails
i’ma put the foot in his mouth like he bite his toenails
bars!
bars!
yo, enough wit’ the jokes, i leave ya head a scary way
leap, you won’t get one left off like a february date
the last time i was in the town i made a legendary plate
so now that i’m back, i’ma k!ll him, usin’ legends in the bay
peep it
hit my celly cell ’bout bigga figgas
i need mines daily
y’all think he’s totally insane, i’m three times crazy (3 x krazy)
in all black, i’m the jacka, no vest on me
but the gun tucked, cause i’m one tough s.o.b
i don’t care if they real brothers, tell ya family i’m sprayin’
i’ll bust a d.e. .40 don’t understand what i’m sayin’?
ya boy? too lil’ b, don’t have me facin’ a murder
they gon’ throw me in san quinn just for blazin’ a burner (berner)
you too $hort to be legit (b-legit), ya hypeman too
g-ssed cause you beat surf
oh you must think that i am tsu (iamsu!)
you missed a (mistah) fabulous shot against roc and couldn’t have a worse day
abandon ya game plan and wasn’t rappin’ for tay (rappin’ 4 tay)
you -ss! x-raided, i say it and speak freely
the hustle in my blood everyday, a g easy (g-eazy)
i’m ridin’ in the masi (mozzy), i see him speed past me
i swiss cheese ya whip, do the v nasty
y’all gon’ have to detach me, once i latch on him
funeral closed casket, i let the mac maul (mac mall) him
or beat ya b-tch wit’ a battery, that’s how you catch a charge
i left ya bae (bay) wit’ a cracked head; messy marv
dawg
now you at home witcha b-tch watchin’ soap operas
i’m in club uptown, negotiating wit’ the c-ke shoppers
mac-10’s, sk’s, (both choppers)
right hooks, left hooks, what’s that?
(show stoppers!)

- lirik lagu king of the dot

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