lirik lagu king of the dot - ness lee vs. madflex
[round 1: ness lee]
i said, if y’all think he’s the standard, let me switch gears
i stop light bars when i’m idle, i could have you back to neutral
and rapping in a backwards hat and bandana with dad swag
you look like a man that tries to dab for black approval
i’m rapping to you, i’d rather shoot you
but that’s a lose-lose, i crack your noodle
them hands is like you had to doodle
i p-ss ’em through you
back at your pad, i smashed your boo and ran a choo-choo
waxed it like i’m madame tu-tu
sh-gged it, she a labradoodle
this man’s my student: we could scr-p in school, too
stab a pupil like i’m practicing a new brand of voodoo
i catch you actin’ cuckoo, ’cause your man has a tool, too
i’mma put a ratchet to you
fam, you really have some screws loose
the south’s greatest
crowd favorite, but outdated
i’ll chew straight through you; i’ll make you my food
pause, translation: i’ll cater to you
translate the translation: i’m al-qaeda to you!
b-tch, you thought you was gon’ out-ness me?
and spit a little rhythm, i get it, well, out-flexing me
i hid in a prism and send him deep in the ground
zip the freezer bag, geo-tag: he’ll get found next week!
swing a bat, beat his -ss: he is now debt-free
crown ness lee, i’m back
free at last, free at last!
you go crazy in next battle when you get beaten bad
well, e. ness just spazzed on b. magic: y’all can thank me for that!
geez, cousin
that brother lee’s a mean son-of-a-b-tch
i mean something like 300 and six
then, out of those six, at least, like, three wasn’t legit
a man g enough to dethrone me doesn’t exist
my last feat was ugly; he wasn’t equipped
dragged his feet through the streets like he slipped with his jeans stuck in the whip
i’ll buy a giant teacup, and write “he sucks!” on it big
and give it to my son
see how i’m mean-mugging the kid!?
i keep one in the clip
if this what you want, then keep running your lip
i stick to my guns like i reached under the bench
we could meet up in the pit
i’ll beat him ’til his next round leak out of his wig…then reb-ttal the sh-t!
i’m hungry; my stomach ain’t had food inside all day
but i figured your next round should suit for my entrée
think your verse is crazy?
then you realize mine is sittin’ in that room beside kanye
[round 1: madflex]
look, i’d be lying if i told you ness was my equal
’cause it take one punch for ness, but i brought finesse
the first one knock you out, the rest just to connect with these people
and y’all been waitin’
bars and delivery: i been sayin’ i’m cliff clavin
this b-tch prayin’ to roll tide: he nick saban
we combine, but…just to see if ness has been trainin’
and that’s why i brought a bag for a burnout
turns out the plan, it fit ness, like him making a gym payment
i don’t give a f-ck about yo’ park bench hustle
f-ck jamarc-ness russell!
no, the h-ll with this!
how come every single time i see you online, you are walking through a gym, buck-naked
pause, duck-facing at selfie sticks?
i need you to get a handle on these poor traits i’m seeing
do you have the connect on the phone? okay, ness, you reaching
me, it’s foxhound ’til the clock down
you wanna actually see flex?
you’ll get chin-checked to the windex
that mean: wipe that look off, you be catching a clean left
and the crack that ness lee get from a hook this big?
well, sh-t, about as strong as all the crack that ness lee smoking to book this gig!
i think you hit a snafu!
yeah, this is a bad move
catch an elbow on the web like a prison tattoo
i promise, you should’ve asked about me
a little gully when ganik found me
i hit you, i still split you ’til you far from the upright like janikowski!
see, ness!? capice yet!?
you got the piece, step
i’ll still walk in there with the ric flair pee-step
this buster couldn’t blow up in the bunker ’cause a defect don’t spark nothin’
star stunt, jaw touch the off b-tton
talk tough, and i knock that -ss right back to the factory presets
we deep, ness?
you out here looking like keith sweat’s cousin, meat sweats!
go burn your house down!
i said keith sweat’s cousin, meat sweats
let’s go burn your house down
but it take pure conviction to burn his bridges
i can burn a spliff and split a 40 between his eyes, like bop! now, you got perfect vision
i heard he gettin’ crazy connections in the loop: he was cursive-pennin’
the thrist begin at interscope
workin’ with him, hoooooh!
yeah, i would’ve loved to see the look on your face when them words were written
news flash! i need you to learn and listen
here’s my stats on interscope:
zero albums, zero singles, zero royalty checks, zero corporate backing
the sad thing is yours ain’t different
your album’s an exclusive at circus visits
look, see the dread on his face? did sherman hit him?
they turn to kid him
ness, you grew up in a motherf-cking stem cell
don’t tell people you were in prison
so happens, the gap between us naturally occurs in pigment
but i’m real familiar with your conditions
i mean, sh-t, it’s hard to find me outside of the hood like a church’s chicken
but ness lee do dirt, huh?
nah, ness lee a nerd, bruh!
you a body on my name now: i’m jesse ventura!
ness, you lose one!
and as for this shot, who’s giving who one?
b-tch, tell clubber lang i said that he’s off the chain…the food one!
you done!
time!
[round 2: ness lee]
i said, you the type to trip over your welcome rug and self-destruct
(say it again!)
i said, i said, you the type to trip over your welcome rug and self-destruct!
type to name his album “sell some bud and felt a buzz”
but when everybody else gives up, i sell them buds
i turn all my l’s to dubs: i’m elmer fudd!
and he just went in on me being signed to interscope! d-mn, fool!
well, the fact is, i was on interscope…and you?
your girl see the way you fail, and it’s sickening, boss
her man keep takin’ l’s: is she nicki minaj?
one swing rang your bell, ding! princ-p-l, dawg
one of these dave chappelle scenes: k!llin’ ’em soft
i smash your girl at a ikea on black friday
she give me percentages off, when she give me the drawers
my favorite watch got a green face
it jumps off my arm when it’s glistenin’, dawg
all my wristses is frogs!
i am rare, don’t you dare go p-ssin’ me off!
interfere, i’ll let it flare: minnie riperton song
be aware, you get aired, and impaired, i don’t care
i do this player like a prayer, and send him to god!
and if your folks is livin’, they both can get it
i’ll look at your mom and, pop, like i’m interested in a local business
your father get chopped up and thrown in dishes!
kick the body parts, roll the neck like, “mm-mmmm! no, he didn’t!”
my sole addiction is for chokeholdin’ victims
and i’m showin’ symptoms and there’s no prescription on the globe to fix ’em!
the most persistent, i go and get it, no restrictions
dig it? only strippers gettin’ close to this pole position
my flow’s ascended with no descendants
and you too old to be this cold and get a low percentage
your flow is ig’nant, but it takes you so long to get goin’ with it
crackhead with a shopping cart: no one really knows where you goin’ with it
i don’t present it, but i’m so chauvinistic!
my lone only mission is to slow-stroke your missus!
my game to her look like a soccer goalie did it
throw it out-of-bounds to show you how far she’s willing to go to kick it!
let’s get it clear, boy
we are not peers, boy
i see the future: you gettin’ destroyed here, boy
i’m clairvoyant, there’s no avoiding, you hear, boy?
and i feel like roasting (bring dat -ss here, boi!)
you old i-mistake-you-for-every-white-guy-in-this-league-face–ss n-gga! (get him!)
you old half-a-kotd-in-the-face–ss n-gga! (get him!)
you old megadef-step easy-jeff-sketch menace-okweezy-frak-lex d-in the face–ss n-gga!
and what the f-ck is a madflex!? who named that n-gga!?
you old “d-mn pecs!” name–ss n-gga!
let’s go, man! donovan mcdab!
[round 2: madflex]
i said, you been g-ssed up so long, i thought that you’d evaporate to vapor
it’s pay-to-play in exchange for favors
then, ness can hop online and blame the haters
dunder mifflin: you conducting business is f-cking fiction to make some paper, unfit
i’m just running the strip like bay to breakers
and you unfamiliar
sh-t, organik didn’t know if he should introduce you, f-cking move, or yell out, “stranger danger!”
where you been, ness? just somewhere being b-tch-made?
i mean, you got your work cut out for you: yeah, senior ditch day
i wouldn’t bet against me
i’d turn ness to split-screen
he all commando when he less tight than a feminist’s jeans
and generally-
yeah, i slid past the door that wasn’t open like general lee
i still can’t find scenarios that benefit lee
’cause i could dead him with schemes!
end a career, and that’s appearing todd marinovich, we
man, f-ck yo’ veteran st–ze!
alfredo waitin’ on yo’ b-tch -ss like the freshman fifteen!
i wanna hear yo’ sh-t!
i wanna hear yo’ sh-t!
f-ck him! i wanna hear yo’ sh-t…then i will go and rent an 8-track
yeah, some f-ckboy out there gonna say i emulate p-ss
but i don’t hate that
you been a b-tch, ness, it’s payback!
no! i’m saying go get ness his pay back!
he got no punches, i’m rushin’ the swings like a second-grade cl-ss
i rock a fella, then j buy it: i guess i’m dame dash
let me spell it out for you:
it’s not a spelling bee, but you can catch this l with ease: i’m only giving ness his name back!
son, trust me, park it, take a seat, with any brave act
i got a team that’ll give you a cap as soon as you hit the stage like the nba draft!
what up, rook!? i’ll leave prey destroyed
hall-of-fame anoint, from the ali-frazier joint
you would show up in a room with five dudes like, “c’mon, make some noise.”
i hate you!
you can’t f-ck around with team kia soul, man! it’s too late to join!
we built the bunker
yeaaah, riding with a handle on the game like paperboy!
thank the boys!
and, yes, you were in grind time now
but the problem is, you sound like you in grind time now!
you’re not important!
pete built the house, you got the mortgage
every time you choke, i’m like, “d-mn, g! nah!”…martin lawrence!
you oughta forfeit!
i’m not gonna lie!
i said, cry in a battle, here’s the thing though: it’s still clobberin’ time
nino can get you in the loop ’til you and karma collide
ness roll, ten-four, copy that, i’m droppin’ a dime
i’m ahead, you telling tales: we on opposite sides
tell avocado stop doctoring his footage, you are not a mcfly!
flux capacitor: your battles always start with a y
that was fire! and this plate about as hot as the lines!
man, be honest: just use your round to complement mine
then when the trailer drop, just take a walk like optimus prime
i got this sh-t! time!
[round 3: ness lee]
i said, i am battle rap’s luke cage
dude’s frame is made of impervious tissue
so all your side arms suggest you’re worshipping vishnu
if you hurt me, it’s mental, but nah, n-gga
i’m the swastika before german officials had it converted from hindu
you better pray your worth to jesus and fear he avenge you
when i purple-nurple your serbian pistol and turn it against you
the battle world done heard what i’ve been through, concerning credentials
but you, we’ve not even learnt the essentials
all we know is that your verses are too nerdy to sit through
and if we added an extra x to your shirts, they’d fit you
you may have seen how i’m nervous to diss you with a personal
’cause no one’s heard of you for me to get personal with you!
that means if you diss me, you have a diss advantage
that means if i diss you, i’m at a disadvantage
so your diss to me will come off clean: spic-and-span-ish
my diss to you will come off like, “lee speaking spanish?”
you say something ’bout me, and it’s “flex got crazy!”
if i say something ’bout you, then it’s “ness got lazy!”
but be thank for your no-name, makes me hold back to spanking
you so lame, my whole angle is how i don’t have an angle!
i said, you cop a grip
run, point, pop a clip: dumb choice
you gotta get some poise
i gaza-strip-bomb your sh-t
a boxer can’t touch floyd, get rocked with this
f-ck george, i cross your lip, cut-
man, you a nondescript f-ckboy!
ends are insufficient: it’s an issue with his black card
i’m with the sh-ts, i hit him with a spinning fist like haggar
his insolence gets ended when i stick him with a gl-ss shard
and go back and forth, round and round: wimbledon and nascar!
fam, you stay trying to act hard
you gon’ get slammed through a table in your backyard
man, i don’t play, i’ll drive all the way to the place where your family stay: matt barnes!
i might pull a blaaaaaaaade…that sharp!
slide it through your faaaaaaaaade…that part!
i said, i’m a different type of lyricist: descendant of a past art
i’m in this b-tch visiting as a citizen of asgard!
to dig his ditch, split his sh-t, and strip him of his phat farm!
k!lled fredo, b. magic, and kicked bender in his back lard!
i’m usually not impressed with image
but your american flag bandana? that was a fresh l’il gimmick!
well, didn’t megadef dare me to stomp a flag in front of him?
okay, i will, with madflex’s head still in it!
let’s go, n-gga!
[round 3: madflex + ness lee]
man, you been out here just yapping and mumbling…since the saurus was the one-time champ of a couple things
you big–ss, robin harris-
hey, you know how that sh-t go?
’cause when i tell a kid stop playing, stab, then follow a drip home
you fold on-screen, it’s off-putting, ness: are you a flip-phone?
you not a shooter!
you lined up next to a boss: amani toomer
get hit mid-stride from the car like amari cooper
that’s a two-for
eyes on a couple bags, f-ck the plan
you getting wings whether you like it or not: this a stop at hooters
yeaaaah, this is that main-page operation, stack all of you numb inside
player hate these views, but you make five on it and none survive
what i got is something sublime
a formality, challenge me
i make a play for the t-tle until i’m underlined
now, you’ve had big features…no, big features like busta rhymes!
what’s next, a gut check?
like, “f-ck flex!” nah, f-ck ness!
you get the runs because you couldn’t stomach the humble pie!
i mean, you people do not know what ness’s life is like
i mean, unless a youtube comment made you go, “euuuugh!” a bunch of times!
f-ck this guy!
ness lee, check please
whatever dues you pay, f-ck all of them
this ain’t rent-free, this is overtime
you’ve outdated this league: you’re a socialite
let’s play a game called, “know what rhymes with ‘you still ain’t on tour with immortal technique?'”
i wanna know, i wanna know
sh-t, i don’t know, but just hang in there! we’ll know more by next week!
aye, that whole chain of events making no sense: that’s you with a spray tan
exchange hands, faceplant, or “hotline bling” drake dance
i blaze the spot, you better pray you got the fire escape plan
’cause it won’t help if you pull sonny bamboo out your waistband!
any bar graph that me and ness lee on start looking- you got a booger!
aye, any bar graph that- i’m just helping you out!
any bar graph that me and ness lee on start looking like me and ness lee on a seesaw
now, pardon this december tan, it’s just a little peachy
but, ness, don’t get all preachy
i still walk freely in this same streets
they make you pay to claim a set like sean healy
i said, i cut you into order: it’s bon qui qui!
raise the f-ck up, until he tire on the ground: it’s a pop wheelie
look, whatever lee on, let it go or you get hit before you cross the line: now i’m don beebe!
do y’all read me!?
i’ll beat lee’s -ss!
ness leezy, trash
see, i’ve been walking with a body count like ice-t band
this energy, don’t push it, lee: this ain’t a tai chi cl-ss
man, look at me
you suck so much, they should provide kneepads
ness lee closer to the court than the seat spike lee has
let’s get off that, ’cause you about to mind weak jabs
but by the time he spaz, the sh-t be down his leg: he bringing back the ’90s sag!
f-ck a declined g p-ss
delete that, a cheap tap
the beat comes, the whole street run: i’m the ice cream man!
don’t f-ck with me!
it must be tough to be a bounty hunter
when you’ve never had a county number
you hate guns, but you create one ’til they sound the buzzer
’cause you been zipped up too much to put the arms down: you ralphie’s brother!
what i’m supplying, private ryan: bring your whole squad with you
these b-tches’ll never pull me out the bunker, motherf-cker!
let’s go!
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