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Earl on the beat

[Verse 1: Playboi Carti]
Duh, run and lil’ bitch you get hit (bow, bow)
Came in that bitch with a stick (fsh)
Came in that bitch with lil’ kick (fsh)
I got that money I blow (what? fsh)
I’m in this bitch with Lil Meech (fsh, fsh)
I do this shit in my sleep, yeah
Shawty suck me, she so geeked, yeah
Shawty fuck me, she so geeked, yeah
I’m in this bitch and I flee, uh
I put VVS on my lens (fsh)
Shawty can’t wait ’til we lean
Fuck with Lil K you get, fsh
[?] on your ass, you get, fsh
I play that 30 lil’ bitch, yeah
I need a mask for this heat, yeah
I need a gas for my bitch,yeah
You know that choppa don’t miss
You know that choppa don’t miss
I get the muthafucka lit
Double C all on my shit, yeah
Dolce Gabbana my bitch, yeah
Christian Dior, I pop shit, yeah
Shawty gon’ fuck on my drip, yeah

[Chorus: Playboi Carti]
Shawty in love with my drip, woah
I get that drip, you get dripped, yeah
220 all on that rear, aye
I get the drip, you get dripped
I fucked that bitch, I’m a pimp
I’m with Lil Boat, we not simp
I fucked that bitch, she get bent
We in this bih with no tint

[Verse 2: Playboi Carti]
I’m in this bih with some tint
They just wan’ peep on my drip
They just wan’ peep all this drip
I get that Glock on my hip
Bitch, I don’t fuck, I want lip
I fucked that bitch with no tip
I was just leanin’ in [?]
I just buy everything Philips

[Chorus: Playboi Carti & Lil Yachty]
Shawty in love with my drip, woah
I get that drip, you get dripped, yeah (ay, damn)
220 all on that rear, aye (ay)
I get the drip, you get dripped (ay, ay)
I fucked that bitch I’m a pimp (ay)
I’m with Lil Boat, we not simp (ay)
I fucked that bitch, she get bent (ay, ay, ay, ay, okay)

[Verse 3: Lil Yachty]
Yeah, uh (ay)
Thugger lil’ bitch speak Ebonics (ay)
Shootin’ that Glock supersonics (bow, bow)
I drop a dub at Onyx (ay)
[?] that thing up ([?])
Beat from the back, she runnin’ (bih)
Pink Prada bag, I’m thumbin’ (bih)
[?] 30 round gunnin’ (bow)
Fuck what they saying, they pussy (fuck ’em)
Richest young nigga on gang (yeah, yeah)
I put them niggas on gang (ay)
They started snitching
Oops, back at [?] I was swiping
Oops, beat up that pussy, I’m Tyson
Oops, niggas is reckless, triflin’
[?] don’t call me (brr)
Rich white [?], Mike Lowry (Mike Lowry)
Keep one giant stick like Atari (like Atari)
V on my back like Bari (VLONE)
Yeah (yeah), yeah (yeah)
Me and Cash Carti go way back (ay)
Nigga don’t like me, then say that (okay)
20 years old in a Maybach (skrt)
Hoo! flexing (fuck it up, damn)
Young nigga flexing no 8 pack (uh!)

[Chorus: Playboi Carti]
Shawty in love with my drip, woah
I get that drip, you get dripped, yeah
220 all on that rear, aye
I get the drip, you get dripped
I fucked that bitch, I’m a pimp
I’m with Lil Boat, we not simp
I fucked that bitch, she get bent
We in this bih with no tint

[Outro: Lil Yachty]
Damn (ay)
Damn (ay, ay, ay, ay)
Bow, bow

Got me, got me Rollie
(Ya can’t even afford it though)
Got me, got me, uh (got it)
Gotti Gotti, uh (Gott Gotti)
Gotti Gotti (hahahaha)

Came up blood gang (yeah), 30 bang (yeah)
Scum Gang, big choppa, big thang
Let your nuts hang
Who they? (yeah), don’t say (yeah, yeah)
BBA change your mood, aye, anyday
Gotti Gotti, cookin’ up, speed it up
Double cup, Xanny cup, booted up
Mollied up, molly up, break it up
Cop it, then I serve it up, get it up
Gotti Gotti

Family been plottin’, been watchin’
Hating on me, can’t stop it, ’cause I drop it
I been boolin’ with a cold bitch, some cold shit
Leave you out in the cold wind, that’s some hoe shit
You ain’t got no money, you can keep her (pew pew pew)
Bitch, I got my Nina, I’ma squeeze her
If you really wanna meet her, she a greeter
It was really nice to meet ya, I don’t need ya
I pray to God that my niggas gon’ eat (I pray to god)
I pray to God that my family gon’ see (I pray to god)
Prayin’ that the Lord take a chance with me
Wouldn’t come when I was up, I was on the wrong things
I ain’t silly, ain’t no dumb nigga, are you dumb, nigga?
Are you stayin’ with the pump, nigga? Fuck is up, nigga?
Is you mad? You’s a fuck nigga, I don’t trust niggas
Scum Gang, chew ’em up, nigga, we don’t fuck witcha

Okay, my blood gang (yeah), 30 bang (yeah)
Scum Gang, big choppa, big thang
Let your nuts hang
Who they? Don’t say (yeah, yeah)
BBA change your mood, aye, anyday
Gotti Gotti, cookin’ up, speed it up
Double cup, Xanny cup, booted up
Mollied up, molly up, break it up
Cop it, then I serve it up, give it up
Gotti Gotti

Gotti Gotti
Who, who really with the money, money?
Who, who really with the Gotti Gotti?
Who, who really with the money, money?
Ooh, do my dance, hit my things
Break these bands, hunnid bands on my thing
Mollied up, molly up, give it up
Cop it, then I serve it up, give it up

Really with the Gotti, Gotti?
Who, who really with the Gotti, Gotti?
Who, who really with the—

Death is there
She said “The world’s gonna die.”
“You know, the world, the earth.”
“Its gonna be over”
And he said “well I never lied to you”
You see I could explain sex in a minute but death I can’t explain

Wanting to die since you ask most days I cannot remember
I walk in my clothing unmarked by that gory edge then the almost unnameable lust returns even then I have nothing against life
I know well the grass blades you mention the furniture you have placed under the sun
But suicide’s of a special language like carpenters, they want to know which tools, they never ask ‘why build?’

Twice I have so simply declared myself have possessed the enemy, eaten the enemy, have taken on his crotch his magic in this way, heavy and thoughtful, warmer than oral or warmer I have rested drooling at the mouth for
I did not think of my body at needle point even the cornea and the left over urine were gone
Suicide’s have already betrayed the body
Stillborn they don’t always die but dazzled they can’t forget a drug so sweet that even children would look on and smile
To thrust all that life under your tongue that all by itself becomes the passion
Death’s a sad wound bruised you’d say
And yet she waits for me year after year
To so delicately outdo an old wound
To empty my breath from its fat prison
Balance there
Suicide sometimes meets
Raging at the fruit, a potent bowl
Leaving the bread they mistook for a kiss
Leaving the page of the book carelessly open
Something unsaid, the fold of the book and the love whatever it was an accident

Mmm, I ain’t your type
Mmm, wake up on the same damn fights
Mmm, it ain’t that deep
Mmm, trust me don’t jump
It ain’t that deep

[Verse 1]
No small talk
All big convo
Need mine pronto
Chase that down like that all-white Bronco
I just want a bag she just wanna follow
Spend it all on some titties and a condo
Anybody try to text me I curve it
I ain’t even pitching but I curve it
I ain’t whipping but I swerve
I just wish all these bitches gonna learn
I ain’t here to talk
Bad bitch, straight up from the magazine
Savage, something that you never seen
And I go, anywhere I wanna be
Moonrocks, got me Moonwalking, Billie Jean
High class, real big baller shit
My friends, really on some baller shit
Courtside, that’s the only time I’m on the bench
So close, that the coach tryna put me in

Mmm, I ain’t your type
Mmm, wake up on the same damn fights
Mmm, it ain’t that deep
Mmm, trust me don’t jump
It ain’t that deep

[Verse 2]
I told you when I hit the switch it stays on
I ain’t ever switch I stay down
Everybody says I ain’t the same
But the only thing I changed was the game
I ain’t really gotta skip leg day
Cause I been running shit since the tenth grade
I been running way from the fuck shit
I been running way

Mmm, I ain’t your type
Mmm, wake up on the same damn fights
Mmm, it ain’t that deep
Mmm, trust me don’t jump
It ain’t that deep

[Verse 3]
Nah theres a walk over things I used to trip from
And they try to steal my drip but they always slip on it
And Imma steal your bitch, I cought a crip walking
Please get up off my dick, unless you plan to sit on it
You should never trade chemistry for curiosity
Each and everyday I try to make my momma proud of me
Used to never understand now they all on top of me
Fuck a plan b, you gon have to come and swallow me

Mmm, I ain’t your type
Mmm, wake up on the same damn fights
Mmm, it ain’t that deep
Mmm, trust me don’t jump
It ain’t that deep

{Iron Solomon comes out and says he doesn’t have an opponent yet for Summer Madness 8 and will battle whoever wins this}

[Round 1: Geechi Gotti]
Ain’t you supposed to be on strike?
Heard you was mad at URL cause they wasn’t payin’ you right
But instead you up here rappin’, so there’s only one thing I gotta say here tonight
Enough witcha fake ass
This ratchet gettin’ dumped over the head like her face trashed
The face mask, and some gloves on, you know I’m not finna play
Put the gun in ya mouth
Now remember, if you choke Smack dockin’ ya pay
Yo Top where you stay?
I’ll show up to ya spot with the damn work
Y’all will see T get tied up in the front like a fag searched him
The Mag burst
A full clip, no bullshit
Bitch I ain’t stutter, a round cover ya top like The Chronic cover
Now y’all cover ya eyes, if you don’t wanna see the boy T be clapped
Back shot, his disc skippin’ like a CD scratch
Nigga we be strapped, with all kinda different Glocks
Catch you laid up wit’ ya bitch, you and her gettin’ shot
Soon as the trigger pop, they gon’ find her laid back with a head in her lap, look like she gettin’ top
Now look, I just got rid of a Shotgun, now a nigga owe me a pump
You sittin’ here lookin’, cause you just try to show me you tough
Baow, knock ya stomach over there, nigga go witcha gut
What the fuck?
Y’all got me battlin’ this nigga, he a shell of himself
Close range, shootin’ with the arm over the nose, look like I’m smellin’ myself
Nigga self made, ask around
They’ll tell you, “Gotti don’t care he trippin’.”
Head shot will turn Bizzy The Bear into Bizzy barely livin’
I live what I rap
Baow, they know I love them guns sounds, that’s how I know that he clapped
The homies like, “Chill, Gotti you makin’ way too much noise wit’ the strap. Put a silencer on it.”
Nigga for what? After he dead he get a whole fuckin’ moment for that
Nigga who got ya back?
DNA? K? Tell me what Shine ’bout
He get a leg shot, Smith fuckin’ up Cavs (calves) like JR ain’t call that timeout
The nine out, I’ma bust mines then
So much blood on cuz, all you gon’ see is Rain covering Shine like, “I’ma just tuck mines in.”
Nigga, that shit you did to R Streetz was wack, that’s when I knew you was weak
Typical sucker, got him a lil’ money then he turned his back on the Streetz
But see I fuck with R Streetz, so to me that shit was gay
Cause I remember that shit
You was walkin’ around that whole event like, “Buy my mixtape king.”
On Nutty
All of a sudden you got on stage and you ain’t got shit to say?
Well bitch let’s play
I’ll put this T in a box like it’s Desiigner or some shit
Then show up to your funeral like, “Aye Carolina in this bitch?!”
No! If Top get a round then Top get a round
Head shot, hospital gown
He paralyzed so now wheelchair is the only way Top get around (a round)
On the block I was found, now I’m the hottest in this shit
You can ask the people to vote, I got the hood shit on lock from the street shit I quote
I heard you brought yo’ mama to this battle…she must be proud to see you go to war with the Loc
Crackhead bitch only showed up cause she heard your opponent was dope
Bro you a joke
Ever since UFF, you been losin’ it Top
You went from Surf all the way to me, that ought to tell you somethin’ about you and your stock
Nigga you really flopped
See you supposed to be battlin’ niggas like Tay, nigga not me
But you been on that losin’ streak
I think he deserve to get that focused Top
Plus you might wanna spar wit’ ya mama befo’ that one
She can give you plenty tips about smokin’ Roc(k)
Yo bro just stop
The fo’ fo’ black; Barack Obama
I heard you got a baby on the way…that’s gonna bring all types of problems
Soon as she poke her head out, I’m airing her head out
She gettin’ smacked with a lot of shots
The good news, you ain’t gotta buy a casket, you can just stick that bitch back in her mama box
I lot of shots
Soon as we stop Top, he got God
Blaow, it’ll be mo’ blood on T(ee) than Rickey shirt when he got shot
The Glock hot, Top get twisted
Oh he the dread head, the coroner’s lookin’ at the body like “Ha ha. That nigga DEAD dead.”
And all these niggas, rockin’ this Yak Man shit, thinkin’ that that curse shit a joke
Rockin’ a cigarillo brand and wonder why y’all keep gettin’ smoke
Now look, Yak, just provide me the figures
It’s only right if Al Kapone (Capone) fuck wit’ a Mafia nigga
And when it’s real, y’all can tell, y’all can see it in they eyes
It’s yo’ turn see if you can make niggas believe them lies
Nigga time

[Round 1: T-Top]
I said yo
You right bro
When I heard Smack made 2.5 bitch, it was one of my worst nights
Brizz said, “Top I got my machete I’m on the first flight.”
Now I know why Nu Jerzey Twork had to go and steal a purse twice
Found out what Tay Roc was makin’ and not know why he use the word “light”
Beasley said, “Top this is the world’s most respected, but this is not the way you earn stripes.”
I told him, “Nigga, ante up befo’ you find out a purge like.”
Y’all see me front page of the paper
Some of my niggas still have to serve life
So I could give a fuck about URL I’m tryin’ to avoid my third strike
Nigga, you heard right
Free my niggas in the halfway house
That mean they half way in but they half way out
I remember cribs, we was makin’ [?] blaze out
I wanted an ounce but seein’ how a hand plays out
I make you do it or find out what my stab game ’bout
I made him turn himself in like his last day out
Bitch, speakin’ of last day out, you said in January you was goin’ to prison for a year, we was countin’ too
I guess he got a five minute sentence, then got out in two
Y’all Locs really be pullin’ strings, huh? Well why y’all gotta keep us out the loop?
It seem like every time a Crip go to jail they come straight home…out the blue
First it was the blogs, like, “Yo, I’m ’bout to battle for my life.”
Then his jail sentence went bye, faster than my strike
Ain’t that a bitch?
For that reason, we can never sell bricks with each other
If you can’t sit and do ya time, nigga we can’t even sit with each other
Nigga, it make sense why him and Tsu Surf dissin’ each other
Niggas prolly wanna battle so they can snitch on each other
And that ain’t the type of bullshit that we let slide
If you ain’t snitchin’ than let me see ya PSI
And PS, I, ain’t met a group of solid Crips since the GS9
So even though he ain’t do his time, and as funny as it looks
I was the one who offered to put money on ya books
Don’t forget it
I know this a battle so don’t admit it
Cause bitch niggas like you worry about ya image
Like when he did his Gangland show, we wanted to see where them pistols at
Nigga scrap that, at least let us know how they pitchin’ packs
But Geechi bitch ass was the tour guide, picture that
I nigga from the Mafia turnin’ into the biggest rat
Aye, he said, “This alley right here cuz is where we fuck the bitches at
Right here by the [?] is where we do our Crippin’ at
Last week at the dice game we blew a nigga’s biscuit back-”
Snitchin’ ass, you let ’em mic you up like the shit was SMACK
Then you had them niggas behind you like, “Cuz spittin’ facts.”
Shit was sad, if we was the Nuttys we would’ve whipped ya ass and took ya flag
That’s how I know he was a decoy walkin’
Cause if he was really puttin’ in work
They would’ve had his face blacked out with the deep voice talkin’
We’ve seen those often, it would’ve went like, “Yo this Bae Loc. I was the man in ’09
Big trapper, everything from grams to whole pies
My bundles? Came with a stamp on both sides.”
But they showed ya face cause you was talkin’ ’bout hair the whole time
Bro, you really sell hair weave bro?
Aight, I guess it’s all a grind
But tryin’ to take yo’ talent to prison, boy you done lost yo’ mind
He said, “Listen up everybody. I ain’t gon’ take up all ya time
But you can get the Pusha T’s the Iverson’s, I do all designs.”
A nigga yelled out from his cell, “I like stars in mine.”
He said, “Come, fall in line. You know we do those all the time.”
And that’s the reason Gotti shouldn’t be glorified
He a bitch, I seen more man in his daughter eyes
You saw them guys, what he starin’ at son?
He was yellin’ “Criiiiip” until some damage get done
My man backed out, I said, “Hand me that gun.”
Next time he throw a sign up in his whip, it gon’ be a handicap one
I will handicap son, this as real as it get
Expose him kissin’ a pop like Gilly Da Kid
I hope I get the same thing they gave Bill for the shit
Cause I can do a 3 to 10 just for peelin’ (pillin’) a bitch
I’m really convinced
When we found out Twork was fuckin’ Coffee Brown in Vegas you were salty
I mean, you ain’t say no hatin’ shit, but ya face did all the talkin’
Twork said soon as he fell asleep that bitch ate it on a softy
I said, “Nigga we watched DNA fold ya (Folgers)”
He said, “Yeah, the best part was wakin’ up to Coffee.”
The best part of waking up is Coffee in yo’ cup
Aye, I’m just shakin’ up his coffin to make sure he don’t sleep right
I break his hand to pieces, the nigga can’t even peace right
Chopper on me, Geechi Gotti better learn to weave right
Or his head tapped like he ain’t do a bitch weave right
Concrete nigga!

[Round 2: Geechi Gotti]
You gonna talk some gang shit to me? Like you really ridin’ or somethin’
“Geechi should’ve blurred his face out” only niggas doin’ that must be hidin’ from somethin’
He said I need to have home games to win
Stop it clown until Smack throw an event in my hood, all my battles is out of town
I’m from Compton, I don’t feel comfortable unless the Glock around
Cause the same niggas that’ll lift you up, will turn around an knock you down
Let’s get down to the truth
Cause the moment you joined NWX, Brizz joined Cave Gang and you was mad about that
So pretendin’ that you not is what we not gon’ do
You and cuz came in together, you was like damn Brizz
You was mad, why he could not go witchu
It instantly reminded you of the relationship witcha mother
Cause now another person that you love chose Roc(k) over you
You a fuck boy Top, let the truth be told
Any nigga that’ll sell is moms a rock will prolly sell his soul
You not even a drug dealer, you just a nigga that dealt drugs befo’
Had a couple of double ups, prolly graduated to an ounce but nothin’ mo’
So all that king pen shit in ya raps, you just stuntin’ wit’ that
You ain’t had no boats, bricks, bundles of crack
Enough wit’ the cap, cause you ain’t seen no real money til you start fuckin’ wit’ SMACK
Nigga, Smack made you, but you ungrateful
So they pay me to kill The Bear
Up here talkin’ all this shit, that’s why I don’t feel The Bear
Cause if it wasn’t for them niggas, cub wouldn’t be shit
Be basically showed us how to Build-A-Bear
They gave you the platform to build ya brand, but you ungrateful
Up here actin’ like, “Niggas need me”
Smack, that’s exactly why you shouldn’t have fed The Bear, them bitches greedy
You was up there on AngryFan, soundin’ straight soft
Followin’ Hitman, when every time he got booked, it was big plates
That nigga ate off (Adolf)
Can you not see (Nazi) y’all in different tax brackets?
That’s not the nigga you should talk through
He gassed you up, you ain’t even realize all the bread you was gonna let Holla cost (Holocaust) you
I should off you, but I know you niggas, they hoe you niggas
Got you signed to them slave deals
Worried about that 2.5, get that shit out ya mind
Cause unless Smack take ya bitch ass to dinner, you ain’t gettin’ a paid meal
I stay real, now right about now I feel like spittin’ on you
Cause you started to strike for these niggas, now it’s time to get ya casket, see which one of them will pick it (picket) for you
Nigga you been disloyal, I could never shit on URL
They done did mo’ fo’ me than any of these leagues since a nigga been rappin’
Especially you, you low key one of the bummiest battle rappers
So befo’ this little bit of money I can only imagine
He literally made you from the dirt like God did Adam
EVEn if you don’t believe this yo’ daddy, we do
That’s some shit we don’t gotta go to Maury for
How come you always opening ya mouth sayin’ some shit, then you gotta turn around and say “sorry” for?
You know why? Cause he disrespected Kenneka
They made ya bitch ass apologize
Then you disrespected URL, niggas made ya bitch ass apologize
But he want y’all to believe, that nigga was sellin’ dope to the fiends
Late night he had to stand on the curb
Nigga please, you can’t even stand on ya word!
Word up
Anything I say I can stand on it
I learned from a kid you gotta stay down
I found out every bird don’t fly, once I took the work on a Greyhound
You niggas is straight clown, fake beefin’
I should call you niggas actors
Make sure it was sealed tight enough so a dog couldn’t smell it
My only issue with a (w)rapper
You not a factor
Ever since 12 years old, I’ve been gang bangin’
I’m thankin’ God I ain’t gotta spend my life in prison
You arguin’ with Smack and Beasley tryin’ to make a deal
Nigga, in court we had to take a deal
Strikes is different
Nigga, our lives is different
I’m good anywhere, just ask any of the street niggas I know
Answer me this, how cuz a Bear but he can’t step foot in Chicago?
Drago, I’ll put a hit on Melvin, close range wit’ the red dot
Baow, got Melvin lickin’ the bald head like you got Jodie in a headlock
Nigga the FEDS hot, so I gotta watch how I act T
They said his back against the wall, you might finna black T
Relax T, you came here to lose ya life T
Ya mama put ya face on a shirt, now you a white tee
You light T(ea), you a Diet Brisk, this a hired hit
Matter of fact, I’m comin’ straight to ya do’, I ain’t ask you
Think TLC: code word: No Scrubs
(What that mean?)
If you see me hangin’ out the passenger side of my best friend ride, I ain’t tryin’ to holla at you
The Llama splash you, when you got that gun in yo’ hand you feelin’ like you got more than power
Baow, now them shells in you fat boy ain’t corn or flower
Them hollow tips, man I’m a real life robber, I done hit about 50 licks
You even tried to spend $100,000 amongst 50 Crips?
The .50 clip, so when I bear arms, the strap’s beside his Bear arms
BAOW! BAOW! I ain’t never shot it like this, guess I’m in rare form
And when it’s real, y’all can tell, y’all can see it in they eyes
Go ‘head, it’s yo’ turn to dance around see if they can believe them lies
Nigga time

[Round 2: T-Top]