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lirik lagu tay roc vs. swamp – urltv

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[round 1: swamp]
i said carolina what’s happenin’?
let’s eat
they got swamp on summer madness
y’all wanna know what’s gon’ happen, well let’s see
catch a dinner set
while y’all feastin’ i’ma show this b*tch ass n*gga
(i’m the same n*gga in real life that i am on the internet!)
i said first off, f*ck that tournament and them judges
everybody know a n*gga had the best two rounds
had houston in front of lil’ flip thinkin’ it was ‘game over’
and even j. prince jr said i got finessed two times (2tymes)
i heard you been lookin’ for that t.i. soundin’ m*th*f*cka
now you get to see what happen when you find it b*tch
deuce deuce in the boot and even yoooou can receive a t.i.p. from some tiny sh*t
b*tch i’m finna got loco in this b*tch
i’m talkin’ straight postal in this b*tch
y’all ain’t never got that dumped by your old lady?
cashapp her some money and she send it back?
you know godd*mn well it’s over for this b*tch
you got a lotta dirty laundry out there in the streets
but i ain’t gon’ sit here and act like i know the man
but i d*mn sure ain’t gon’ act like it ain’t a few things that i owe the fans
ain’t no way in the f*ck you gon’ convince me you know the difference and can eyeball a gram
when b*tch you didn’t even know the difference in how to eyeball a man
you and yo’ n*ggas? ass and tw*t
i can tell anyone of my n*ggas, “pass the glock”
then roc get (rocket) lifted by somethin’ like an astronaut
i don’t give a f*ck about yo’ s*xual preference m*th*f*cka
it’s the flintstones, ain’t n0body surprised to hear about fred smashin’ roc(k)
you a rap b*tch
them big ass hats represent all of that cap sh*t
but the problem is, y’all make that n*gga think that’s cool cause y’all accept that sh*t
like y’all remember how hype he was on stage when john john threw that chain?
only to find out this n*gga jewelry ain’t amount to jack (jakk) sh*t
listen, i got too many k!llers in this m*th*f*cka, you better watch how you look in the spot
f*ck around catch a jab, uppercut, or a hook in the spot
what y’all want me to talk about? pushin’ the roc(k) or cookin’ the roc(k)?
why? why? why? why? why?
when this the type of m*th*f*cka that really know if bow wow got some good p*ssy or not?
n*gga you got me f*cked up
for you, i’m on some ruthless sh*t, somebody daughter can get shot
a8 is what the transporter flippin’ out
i started to catch you at your hotel room, by the pool
beat you the f*ck up, you know, water whippin’ roc(k)
i’m real as it get b*tch
{fake chokes}

nah, nah, nah
i’m real as it get b*tch, the only thing i’m f*ckin’ up tonight is this b*tch
this swamp, you not prepared for this
i’m airin’ clips
try me, i dare a b*tch
he thought he was f*ckin’ with a g
’til it turn to jimmy butler with the heat
and outta nowhere he dreadin’ sh*t
you play stupid you gon’ see a can’ dump
first this n*gga body drop, then his man slumped
even in edgewood on his own block gettin’ murked
his dog, rockin’ (roc(k)) in a shirt, like and1
i don’t give a f*ck about that tournament, this n*gga finna get the best swamp
hit this n*gga upper torso then get chess (chest) shot
pull over after eazy pass (easypass) like a rest stop
surf won’t make it to his mama crib before he get stretched out
and as far as this goofy, that sh*t just like hoopin’
this ain’t the first time the ball been in my court and i had to check roc(k)
i know you think this sh*t sweet but don’t try it n*gga
it’s too many mothaf*ckas in here ready to start a riot n*gga
i’ve been that little m*th*f*cka, throwin’ rocks at giants
david and goliath n*gga
y’all gon’ have to help roc
this heater will melt roc(k) for thinkin’ he a liver (lava) n*gga
i know y’all m*th*f*ckas be thinkin’ y’all great, but i’m one
i knew what the f*ck was gon’ happen when the time come
a better representation of the south, they not gon’ find one
and the fact that you still wanna battle me after t*top and twork let’s me know them m*th*f*ckas ain’t get the job done
i got tired of hearin’ ’bout, “swamp. you got tay roc on summer madness.”
duh b*tch, i was warned
that ain’t sh*t compared to my life, n*gga i was scorned the minute i was born
the streets/basketball, in*between the two i was torn
so rap about me huntin’ and eatin’ raccoons, but don’t forget the fact i’ll take the head off a bat like ozzy osbourne
[tay roc] nitty said that to me. n*ggas don’t watch battle rap?

[swamp] n*gga, shut the f*ck up
shut the f*ck up
shut the f*ck up
shut the f*ck up
i’m finna commit a crime on this stage
i know you took your time and crafted every line on page (paige)
but i’m losin’ my mind on stage
the shotgun {gun c*cks} boom
get him lookin’ like ginuwine on stage
n*gga talk “swamptown that” and “swamptown this”
until a n*gga gotta stand in front of this swamptown sh*t
rap n*gga

[round 1: tay roc]

i’ma f*ck you up n*gga

ayo, you let me down in that tournament n*gga, what’s up wit’ that?
had 100k on the line versus jc and he fumbled that
y’all f*ck wit’ that?
right
if he come with three rounds tonight then y’all lettin’ me know i’m more important than
[crowd] them 100 racks!
you better come to rap n*gga!
(you bout to die boy. i’m sorry. you’re ’bout to die. i’m tellin’ you. he’s about to die.)
you better come to rap like them other n*ggas that tried to
your name’s “swamp” and ain’t get a call for new orleans and they was battlin’ by you (bayou)
i’ma fry you p*ssy!
swamp to me, no comp’ to me
you bein’ the king of anything…comedy
you start wit’ me
human torch, the fire arm (firearm) wit’ me
and this’ll break a bone, thug, the choir sing in harmony
who hard as me?
have his corn rolls hangin’ partially
face shot, target the bul’s eye (bullseye), it’s archery
the act of takin’ somethin’ from someone unlawfully
boy you will end up in a cast if i commit grand larceny
honestly, box cutter do you awfully, watch his clothes turn mahogany
pardon me
(you could never f*ck wit’ me. you country n*gga. you done. this ain’t that. this ain’t that. this ain’t that n*gga.)
do you awfully, watch his clothes turn mahogany
pardon me
takin’ this? was an honest mistake
you fraud and you fake
talk to me nice or your jaw i’ma break
nothing’s impossible, god isn’t fake
i can’t take a lake in a swamp
boy but i can toss a swamp in a lake
boy i will pull up and leave, whenever you live a wreck
i see a shadow in a window, i’m shootin’ a silhouette
get the picture yet?
pistol whip him, get his sh*t reset
i’ma have swamp leakin’ from the stick, it’s a fishin’ net
if i get upset, you gon’ see dracula lift a tec
and anybody walking dead, it bit his neck
i’ve been a threat
your chin get checked with all disrespect
you’ll end up dead in real life and dead on the internet
[tay roc and swamp start talking to each other]
roc: you’re done. 1*0. how that 1*0 feel? how that feel? you battlin’ me, i’m not them other goofies, n*gga. i told you though
i told you though
swamp: we still got two rounds
roc: i told you i’m not them n*ggas
swamp: we still got two rounds
roc: and you gon’ lose those too n*gga
swamp: we gotta rap two more rounds. we gotta keep rappin’. this is gas. it’s gas. it’s gas. it’s gas
roc: right. it’s gas but i’m in your state. i’m in your state
swamp: that do not move me
roc: talkin’ ’bout gas. look at him. emotional

you’ll end up dead in real life and dead on the internet
what? you happy cause charlotte ’bout what? two hours from you?
boy this k stutter and get rid of this mark, shaved b*tter
ain’t nothin’ you say gutter
i told you, if we go to war the boy cookin’ (cook in) swamp; bobby boucher mother
you a straight sucka
big slugs, you catch ’em out the gauge
shots blast, and leave ya top half without the legs
or the louisville swing ’til i’m slappin’ out a braid
ya skull crack, resemble somethin’ hatchin’ out an egg
a lot of racks that i was paid, was put on this guy head
my sig’ and a hoodie, a boogie from highbridge
rock wigs
have him stairin’, at the back of his eyelids
n*gga ain’t believe that he would die…but god did
what are you? high, kid?
you don’t let your rifle pop
he is talkin’ ’bout wwe if he ever said he got title shot
this a big gauge, when it flash he get writer’s block
this’ll flip page (paige), like the pad with the spiral top
his life’ll stop, you’ll be restin’ in h*ll
if i catch him with his b*tch, ring ty shawn bell with the 12
assassinate ya
glock 19, attach a laser
i’ll snap and death roll into swamp, it’s an alligator
if we get in a dispute, boy i will get in a coupe
hit you wit’ the whip, you gon’ feel like the n*gga in roots
this n*gga a goof
i will break a knuckle chippin’ ya tooth
stomp through swamp
turn these dr’s to fisherman boots!
n*gga salute, cause i grind for my spot
swamps have low elevation, how the f*ck you gon’ rise over roc(k)?
this n*gga’s no comp’
he lost a 100k tournament against a n*gga i stomped
it would be more excitin’ to see roc(k) skip over swamp
roc, never plays
today’s price, ain’t yesterdays
when they want me to bless the stage, the investor pays
ya chest get caved
ammo out this heckler sprays
tunnel though swamp, look like the mangroves of the everglades
you lyin’ if you say i’m not with the greats
when everybody in anybody’s mt. rushmore had roc(k) in they face
that’s round one n*gga!

[round 2: swamp]

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