lirik lagu king of the dot - dunsh vs. reverse live
[round 1: reverse live]
it’s father 40-hands!
against your boy dunsh!
need to learn to pipe down around your elders
so, when i’m done, sshhh!
a bullet whizzing by your head: you hearing, “dun…sssshhhhh…”
when a hairy situation make you famous like zz top
unload, ’til sh-t cl!ck and aim at this square, like i’m trying to turn the tv off
homie better move quick when the nina pop
hit yo’ lung when the tool spit
call me q-tip: i make breathing stop!
yo, you looking like someone put owen wilson’s nose on ethan hawke!
don’t even recognize you without the domino’s hat and pizza box
tell your freak to drop on your knees and give me face for rizeal!
turn on the camcorder, make that b-tch squeal
have her screaming all over the tape like gangsta grizillz!
yo, big cans to yo’ front: now you shaped like kim fields!
just a fact of life when i come through, i’ll let the chamber release
sh-t that’ll open up your chest like a vapor machine!
plus, i got a army of motherf-ckers that stay with the heat
so, if you’re clashing with the gang, it’s like the championship parade
‘cause you’ll feel like the whole city trying to wave at your team!
big metal, swinging them beams like a job site
dot-com, p-ssy: it’s on sight
if you trying to sw-ng it with me
i’ll be on this punk’s porch for all the neighbors to see
but f-ck trying to hear him out!
it’s publishers clearinghouse: you getting checked at your front door for playing with me!
yo, clappin’ sh-t that’s hangin’ from trees: that’s banana clips
don’t waste the whole thing, just half the clip
i’ll push a t…shirts front to the back when i unload hammers
you survive? keep it movin’, don’t challenge
‘cause i’ll toss you the other half of those clips…if you trying to hold malice
i got a knack for violence, apache pilots
the goal is to use choppers
and…the homie’s a tool-popper
so, you’ll know if the goon’s on ya
‘cause all you hearin’ is, “grrrrrr!” like i’m rollin’ with chewbacca, p-ssy!
[round 1: dunsh]
i said, the first time i heard reverse live, i was like, “homie sucks.”
but then i read the word “live” in reverse, like…”ho-ly f-ck!”
i ain’t jokin’, bruh
honestly, that name’s succinct
like, on the one hand, he’s evil, but on the other hand, he makes ya think
this dude is a demon!
i’d be gettin’ brutally beaten
but a. ward threw me bars, and told me, “do it for jesus!”
if you watch his battles in reverse, you can hear lucifer preachin’
and see the overall interest in his movement increasin’!
so, i’m with a crucifix, creepin’
i swear i really want the best for live
try to exorcise his demons, but…his demons never exercise!
you fat f-ck, get smacked up
i give a f-ck if i’m a tenth your size
you’d snap a left, take half a step, try to catch your breath…and die!
but we off that
fall back and get palm-smacked
you’ll wake up to your jaw strapped to a saw trap
gore splattered on the wall, look like a…look like a f-ckin’ rorschach
i’ll hack your f-ckin’ limbs off, and tell you, “walk back.”
all-black at your funeral, soon as i hit the tarmac
rest in peace!
your legacy’s a golf clap, my legacy’s beyond that!
the future of this format is startin’ with a bullet in reverse like a nas track!
i said, i’m all that and a bag of chips
and after this, my stock climbing
‘cause i’ve mastered the ancient reverse live art of mixing hot timing with not rhyming
check it out, it’s like…
ayo, it’s hot when you rap
but the problem is that
you do it in this…stop-and-start-awkward-pause-hiphopopotamus-stream-of-consciousness pact!
where you rhymin’ and…slack
a sick tactic to distract ‘em from the content he lack
but it’s a novelty act, all to get the audience clappin’
when, to be honest, the fact
you strain your voice…and make a point…to belabor points
that could have been summarized in, like, a bar-and-a-half!
so shout to everybody watchin’ that trash!
this is a bar fight!
on sight, since i let you talk to your match, like eharmony chats
so i could either get to…poppin’ the cap like dad hats
or just toss him a strap…and let money off his own sh-t like a property tax, motherf-cker!
[round 2: reverse live]
i’m startin’ to feel…like you a waste of time and money
and that’s what cats get clapped and k!lled for
i said, over that green, you’ll be beefin’ with a shooter like happy gilmore
play dope, get bagged up
that vacuum-sealed raw becomes you
when i come through, smack yo’ grill off with hands like cain velasquez
cavin’ in yo’ cranium, you frail–ss b-tch!
you don’t want the ruckus with the hands
if i so much as stick a jab, i’ll leave that forehead buckled on some quailman sh-t!
yo, but what’s funny is i got homies by the trunk for me
so when sh-t is gettin’ hot, i’m the one who’s like doug
out here in a vest, dawgs runnin’ up when i whistle for the chop’!
anyway, you can still be part of the show when we get out of line
get popped in the dome, now you coughin’ and moanin’, leakin’ out yo’ mind
makin’ funny noises wit’ ya head blew like skeeter valentine!
homie, yo, i went to school to look at -sses
you were early to get to cl-sses, and worried about your attendance a lot
you were gettin’ bussed to tennis practice, i was bustin’ heads on the block
we ain’t the same type of white boy, i bet he get dropped
‘cause, p-ssy, i got a busted knuckle for every college credit you got!
yo, i don’t fight no more
you gettin’ slumped for them evil stares
so if he thuggin’, then be prepared
when i roll up, it’s all arms like i’m stuck in a wheelchair
yo, and as much as i’d love to be clappin’ on ya
i’d rather watch the life leave yo’ eyes when i stab you, partna
so if you let me get close enough, i’m swingin’ blades off top, like, “go! go! gadget ‘copter!”
and you like to do impressions of me?
okay…well, you do that again, you gettin’ slapped in a second
‘cause that sh-t’s only good for corny laughs in a session
and…if that’s your intention
you goin’ home with a permanent handprint on yo’ face
how’s that for a lasting impression, p-ssy!?
[interlude: reverse live, dunsh + lush one]
all freestyle! all freestyle!
i wrote that for him! he’s f-ckin’ high!
he’s disqualified for using writtens! (-laughs-)
and dunsh is like you, he used writtens a little
that’s true
i didn’t realize we were allowed to write for this, it’s bullsh-t…
[round 2: dunsh + reverse live]
alright, you tell me what’s worse
the fact that you got a leg cramp…while sitting down…on the dirtbag dan show
facts, facts! i’m fat!
or that i felt compelled to confirm that fact, so
i watch the dirtbag dan show?
like, did it hurt that bad, bro?
you were sitting in a chair
you started twitching in despair like, “daaaaahhh!”, and lifted in the air
this kid’s in disrepair, you’re f-ckin’ crazy, bro
which ligament you tear, your f-ckin’ lazy bone!?
i guess it pays to know that cody here has sensitive thighs
and a genuine pride, so that the only thing he stretches is rhymes!
he’s got a mexican side that adds credence to that menacing vibe
got the esé homies ready to ride, until they catch him online
like, “aaaahhh!”: entrance denied!
ayo, the fact he’s half-hispanic got y’all really thinkin’ cody’s hard?
who gives a f-ck ‘bout your heritage when you got a phony heart like tony stark?
yeah, cody’s mexican ‘til the homies pressin’ him, and he’s like, “lo siento” and “no hablar”
but i bet you say the n-bomb in private, but you roll the “r”!
you’re in your homie’s car, bumpin’ fall out boy in a blackalicious tee
like, “i don’t have to pick a scene as long as my dad gets p-ssed at me”
tryna blend in at a mosh pit, but they catch him instantly
like, “who’s this smelly homeless dude who keeps on battling with me?”
i got a fly chick, nice whip, and a graduate degree
you got…a tide stick, lice, ticks, and a hammock in a tree!
and i love the fact you’re questioning my masculinity
when you had a top-knot, a thot dot, and matching skinny jeans like some f-ggy trinity!
are you in the fashion industry?
what’s this look…f-ckin’ bad decision chic!?
p-ssionate, unique
i bet…abstinence is neat!
but look, i know that you’re bitter, but the way you’re copin’ with liquor
got you walkin’ a thin line between homeless and hipster
so it must be cold in the winter when you sleep down by the docks
considering you purposely live outside the box
but catch this bum in a veteran’s hat, beggin’ for cash, trying to get his paper up
n0body’s givin’ change to ya when they ask where you served, and you tell ‘em, “grizzlemania”
time!
[round 3: reverse live]
evil got the eagle, you can get the talons
when i pull up, surprise you with a can like the pepsi challenge
yo, or swing somethin’ a little bigger, have you knocked over
i pop domes up, metal for that crown like top molars
jesse “the body” guns when i’m poppin’ son
the barrel spinnin’ itself like i started a lawnmower
yo, so if you want the ruckus, fam’, then pipe up
i nicknamed the gat i hold, “amber rose”
think you savage ‘til these bald heads f-ck a rapper’s life up!
yo, i put names on bullets before i pull it
them shots were always destined for the man, the myth, the dunsh
you joke around, and you gettin’ a drum like, “da-dun-shhhh!”
you were raised in a household where you made to believe
being a patriot means…you throw tantrums when black athletes are takin’ a knee
during an anthem that doesn’t even slap
i mean, sh-t, add some b-ss to the thing, or a feature from quavo, at least!
or my fat -ss will also remain in the seat!
yo, i heard you went on facebook to leave a status that said, “black lives matter”, and had to block your dad right after
to avoid going home and making a scene
yo, speaking of your pops, i heard he’s disappointed
you were supposed to be a lawyer, in a fancy car
knockin’ on part-tions, askin’ for caviar
now you’re just a battle star, broke your daddy’s heart
you p-ssed the bar exam, and…now you just examine bars!
your duality in this culture is some laughable sh-t
you’re the only cat that exists at these events
who’s probably gonna lock up half the people that he’s battled against!
so tell me, homie: are you pleadin’ or clappin’ the fifth?
‘cause i’m a cold son of a b-tch, i got a cryogenic mama
pr-ne to violence like i am jeffrey dahmer
so the metal got a mind of its own like cybernetic armor!
yo, you better bail if you find the weapon on ya
‘cause that sh-t’s followed by the hammer bangin’ like, “i object, your honor!”
yo…and your girl called me “johnnie cochran”
f-ck you!
[round 3: dunsh + reverse live]
i said, robo’s duckin’ me!
i asked him for a rematch, and he said he wanted 50 racks
so i paid him…and he spent the cash, and hasn’t hit me back
what the f-ck!?
then you hit me, said you’d do it for a fifth of that
nah, you said you’d do it for a fifth of jack!
your liver’s black, ‘cause of the fact-
faaaacts!
facts!
your liver’s black, ‘cause of the fact you gotta drain fluid from all that day-boozin’
your liver’s black, to the point that frak wants to pretend he can relate to it!
aye, let’s get straight to it!
you lost face, now you ain’t bumpin’ like a chemical peel
you got hot, then disappeared, like jessica biel
a lot of people didn’t think that it’d be gettin’ this real
but this been a long time comin’ like lexington steele
i’m better for real
pulp fiction in your b-tch’s apartment
or gettin’ brains in the backseat, but it ain’t vincent and marvin
and then i pull up with the chopper, ready to cl!ck it and spark it
if you have your homies watchin’ your -ss like christopher walken
ayo, i said, uh….f-ck reverse live, man
i don’t give a f-ck about a re-verse live
i wrote this whole sh-t on the plane like i’mma rehe-rs- live
but let’s reverse time…
before you lost this battle to a vet
before you saw organik in the flesh, yellin’, “rapper to my left!”
i accepted this match-up, despite the fact that i was stressed and didn’t actually prep
but f-ckin’…blood splashin’ from my pen as i stabbed it in my head
like i f-ckin’…i shoulda asked them for a check
but wait…that’s when i snap out it, wake up, gaspin’ for a breath, laughin’ in my bed
i look around me…and instead of a casket, it’s just ed
and he’s like, “i realize…you didn’t actually battle, kev’, you just been illmaculate instead
but imagine what would’ve happened if you had actually prepped!”
time!
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