[Marv One]

yo yo, yÂ’all ready for death
yÂ’all ready for death
Marv One that fat killer the game done got ugly, lets go
yo, yo, I seen your type before you think you tough, battle you
Bitch you lucky I donÂ’t beat you up
In the game of fist ta cups IÂ’ll push your face back
You cant f*ck with me man, really just face facts
As he verses me in a battle of ten rounds
Its like Mugsey Boags tryin to bark with Jim Brown
Dumb f*ck, Im the type to run a muck, come in the club drunk as f*ck
Slap your bi*ch who even buck, when I walk..
Tell your a man the size of a ?D and D dof?
Tryin to take his ear off, like mike types,
I quite nice on fight night, an why he popped shit
I thought he liked flyin, appearntly not
IÂ’m Nickel hairinly hot, and if I meant you
may your parents be shot
You im a bad boy, bi*ch is on, I pull 44Â’s in your chest
Like your freak mahone

[B-Rabbit]

you a faggot you little maggot
Hold on faggot, let me turn this mic on
DonÂ’t think for a minute IÂ’m goin let you get away with that song
Cause that shit was wack, you aint spittin
As a matter of fact all of that shit was written,
And I no it wasnÂ’t for me, shorely, you really must adore me,
Now look it,
Yo, you might as well move to Italy
Look this guy is ripped (skkkrr) literally
You donÂ’t wanna really f*ck wit this,
On this microphone, I aint stuck-a lot-to-kiss
But I donÂ’t give a f*ck, you can keep that doe rap
And turn your a*s back around with your f*ckin skull cap,
and your bandana or your mother f*ckin sweat band
f*ckin with this style youÂ’re a dead man,
I aint redman but on this mic yo I pick it up,
Just like your face when I had to rip it up,
You donÂ’t wanna see me,
Yo, uh