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lirik lagu verbal war zone - cortez vs. buttah from da block

[round 1: cortez]
you ain’t a k!ller you still learning how to walk
the machine to his throat, he learning how to talk
life flash before his eyes is his final thoughts
won’t get the picture til ya drawn outside with chalk
chop off hands cause fools be hard to reach
cats give pounds but they won’t lift an arm for me
gotta pardon me, guns from the armory
i don’t need all the rease, four in his heart i squeeze
i make it hard to breathe, chrome like heart disease
b-ttah (b-tter) high cholesterol, these bullets clog arteries
i link with the ops, mop heads through the scope
b-ttah from da block but ya block said, “you a joke!”
oh these sh-lls crack eggs right through the yolk
i ain’t gotta pull out, i pop lead through the coat
meet the plug, increase the pie numbers, sh-t
even i wonder how i speak divine hunger
from the streets and i’m gutter
i squeeze and i buck ya
it’s either i
go & spit the ‘ether’ my brother
or this eagle eye gon’ split ya features
i run up
big ratchet, i’m a sneak it right under
sh-t happens, so i’m keeping my plunger
stick action, i hit his cheek when i “bruckup”
closed casket now his features got smothered
looking down like, “yo i can’t believe it’s not b-tter (b-ttah)!”
uh, i told you don’t judge me
b-tch talking all that jazz (jaz) it’s the one z

{cortez has to have them bring the beat back because no one could hear him over the crowd reaction}

so don’t judge me
i told you “war’s ugly”
b-tch talking all that jazz (jaz) it’s the one z
i snap then i go in the jeans it’s a onsie
the doc st-tch a patch on that back it’s a rugby
ha! i’m at ’em all
i’m mad as manson with a dagger y’all
laughin’ as ya blood go and splash on the cabinet wall
i jab back and forth and then i stab his corpse
maggots! aww!
leakin’ out his adams apple…sauce
i move wit’ a stick like -n-log
a middle finger up to every last fan of y’all
now they got me in court, tryna add a charge
but i’m focused on appeal (a pill) like adderall
this ain’t a battle y’all
i faced the judge in real life
get it boy? i really had to battle bars!
ain’t no tricks wit’ cort’ (court) see i don’t globe trot (globetrot’)
i bubble off every scent (cent) like a soap box
see they all ride the wave ’til a boat stop
but i’m not (knot) to be tied like boat docks
only way i face the pin if the phone locked
dudes out buyin’ chains but they can’t afford glocks?
know ops
nose ops
in his face, botox
chrome arm swing like robots
me and ya moms in the room, shh! don’t knock
she left a plate for ya b-m -ss on the stove top
you’re 32 i’m wit ya mom? bro stop
oh by the way ya job interviews is 4’o clock
look at him., f-cking mama’s boy
i get to raise something too, meet my pride and joy
potatoes so i hide the noise
and the flame put em on hot wheels i had to fire toys
ya dumb sweet
strapped in like front seats
eviction… i’m a put it all on front street
missing for days, fish in the lake, where they want me
but i’m slick in my ways, i spit in ya face, don’t confront me
stick to the tre (tray), spit to the prey, where ya lungs meet
stick to the prey, stick to the tre (tray) like it’s lunch meat
my n-gg- we get it from boats, we fixin’ to cop
it’s like you sniff up ya nose, when fixin’ to cop
it’s like i live on parole, i’m p-ssed on the spot
the .40 below as cold as the temperature drop
plenty plenty
a heavy belly for anybody very dumb
f-ck you dead broke and beg for pennies
semi, semi, plenty ready for any heavy threat
come across cause b-ttah soft like pelle pelles
oh you gotta b.u.t.t.a.h., i aim straight
pistol whip him, tryna stay sane from a hood of red rags
where they g-ngb-ng, throwin’ signs in the street sorta like they lane changed
you gotta gun b-ttah?
i’ll take ya gun b-ttah
pistol whip you and wifey too i’ll gun b-tt her

[round 2: cortez]
not amused as i’m seated in the booth
as a another child gone another seed is in the news
jealousy and the hate, i seen it in ’em too
look b-tta, biscuits, i’ma feed him to the wolves
no more games wit’ him when i’m tryna do away wit’ him
melo on the rockets get it? i ain’t play wit’ him
p-ssed off, f-ck the slick talk
what he spit i doubts fire (doubtfire), get it?
what you acting like a b-tch for
word, i told ’em this is what the sh-t cost
i ain’t even trick god, this is what his b-tch bought
word, and whatchu think i keep a twin for?
it’s for you nerd brothers actin’ like cliff paul
stand over ya body and crip walk then spit on you
and big loads of blood loss is minimal
b-ttah how you came for a crown it doesn’t fit on you?
they’ll question shots all on ya body when bullets riddle you
brooklyn, everybody here know i run gotham
you get the blade or the gauge, see that’s one option
and that’s to die, i ain’t never lie
you washed, gettin’ rung and left hung out to dry
but i ain’t never tied (tide) these dude’s ain’t never gain
i’m grimy, doin’ dirt, just to leave his shirt stained
get it?
it always be the weak ones poppin’ sh-t
he did a pg and now he think he hot and sh-t
okay you got it b-tch?
beasley’s right there, motherf-cker don’t drop his sh-t
you see i did it from the mud
me and smack like this {crosses fingers} so don’t disrespect the plug
nah i ain’t playin’, f-ck it, thangs sprayin’
one long strap on the gut, i’m waist trainin’
city slicker, f-ck it, .50 clipper
cats sh-t? rock yo’ box like kitty litter
brooklyn, yeah i come through in the black charger
air it out then come back around, that’s karma
yeah see you walk that fine line
take cover up from the smoke or see the mag like high times
’99, carryin’ my .9
yeah your life’s cheap but won’t n-body buy time
no question all these marks can’t define mine
was gettin’ more views than you back in grind time
word, and that was like 10 years ago
see i paved the way for you steal the show
but when you rap bro n-body hears you yo
he jump in ciphers we like, “psst, here he go.”
bro you got us f-ckin’ sick
you the type to wanna spit, while i’m tryna f-ck a b-tch
like it’s no problem
cause you nothin’ but a b-tch, so with no condom
i’m a nut in b-ttah b-tch
it’s brooklyn
all day you see that we slime
i cooked up then cookie cut the design
you food and n-body eats mine
b-ttah couldn’t sk!ll it (sk!llet), so all you (oil) getting deep fried
b-tter, sk!llet, deep fried, ya heard me?
the icing on the cake was b-ttah, now that’s word play

[round 3: cortez]
i’m headin’ to a show and the .44 ridin’
so called drama, bros go wylin’
a celeb in these clubs, still oh so violent
f-ck security!! b-ttah, i’m photo bombin’
get it? this is brooklyn, leavin’ ‘em sick
i said “photo bomb”, means i’ma sneak in the pic (pick)
my camp fire, sticks, and we keepin’ it lit
b-tter (b-ttah) melt, over cheese like i’m seasonin’ grits
yo, i swear to god though these n-gg-s is loony
they think they drip jewelry, please they drip foolery
big gun, i catch a vic, spill a toolie
or get a staple in his head wit the lil uzi
i did this to give you game you’ll relate too
cause even when you shine, the haters lurkin the shade too
oh that’s ya man? say word? he a snake too
what goods a day 1 who been jealous since day 2?
f-ck that
beretta’s dump, i hit n-gg-s
with this trigger i’ll disfigure and dismember
this b-tch n-gg-, sh-t sicker, i spit triggers
what? i gotta spell it out? see we stick figures
start the trend armed with men
no i won’t spar wit him, i just part his limbs
you get an extra smile, scar his chin
quit f-ckin’ wit’ these jokers like harley quinn
brooklyn, sellin’ weight, movin’ loads through borders
the plug? no juice like i broke the charger
with the chrome this oughta leave ya bones disordered
blade whippin’ out the boot like logan’s daughter
the mic was on
it felt like the fight was on
they put money on my head, but the price was wrong
rap groups act shady on the ‘microphone’
it’s static cause this snitch n-gg- mic the phone
like, “h-llo?”
nah, you getting block dawg
and they got no bars like a dropped call
hot sauce, body bag dropped off
and tooth pick in his face, get it? scott hall
yeah chico!!! mira my manito
every other week tho’, moving tamarindo
bodega talkin’ he don’t know the lingo
calling out his number, dots where his bean go (bingo)
the hammer rise
this magazine ain’t advertised
flinch once i flash the cannon, d-mn he camera shy
i chop his legs off, i can’t stand the guy
known to keep a grip, see wit’ the glove i handle mines
so f-ck the nonsense i ain’t for that gossip
goon activity blood i’m involved wit’
bullets in the cylinder spin like revolvers
ya wallet or ya life? i’ll let you do the bargain
chrome get the sparkin’, i air it out, come back then recap him but i don’t do no bloggin’
put him in an urn, nah i don’t do the coffin’
you ain’t even sell tix (celtics) how you a boston
move the whole plate bruh, i don’t do a portion
death ain’t cheap and a future’s what it cost him
so never try it holmes, sh-t i’ll never ride alone
sh-lls h-t his spinal wrong
crack like styrofoam
now you can’t move me, haters try to do me
oh you wanna take it to cort’ (court)? well b-tch sue me!
big toolie, spit rudely, a bit moody
double d’s on a b-tch like big b–bies
i’m oh so gutter
trap house, no phone number
i’m out here grindin’ til the popo run up
i went from no dough b-ttah to a dope flow brother
talkin’ tan, made the cut, moving coco b-tter (b-ttah)
so on the first thought
i’ma get you herbs caught
burn corpse backing out hammers, i swerve off
keep an eagle, i will leave you on the curb chalk
for that coco b ware (beware) i’m letting birds talk
that’s one black one silver., that’s two tone
and i’ll ‘pop that p-ssy’ like luke song
once i hit 18, too grown
shoot chrome
forced (foster) to give a sh-ll to (shelter) every kid in ya group holmes (homes)
foster, shelter, group holmes
ask me
one word describe the flow clip
nasty!
so whatchu tryin’ to start? ain’t nothing straight
balenciaga white socks (sox) i f-ck em up when i jump the gate
deuce deuce shoot, i’ma aim right in b-ttah face
closed casket you see everything but a face
for better clout
i’ll pull that medal out
drapped in plastic, treating him like abuela couch
my metal’s out, the pistol’s blammin’
fools they wanna front ’til the pistol jammin’
one blazer in the ring i’ll vince mcmahon him
and point off top i’m middle man’ing
yeahhhh
i know bloods i know crips and they all for us
i’ll have the red or blue peel (pill) like morpheus
4’s to clutch, a corpse to us
take caution, built for the steam like coffee cups
you everything but a goon
how you think b-ttah hot?
f-ck it i’m a lick a (liquor) shot, sweeter than b-tter scotch
word play, get it?
i’ll hit everything but a limb
but again, you got everything but a (b-ttah) win

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