[Round 1: Tsu Surf]
First thing I hear when I touch down is “Surf, the Midwest grooving
Such and such nice, what’s his name doing his numbers
And I don’t see the Midwest losing”
Well I could think of a few Verbs, for the niggas that think they Ill
I come through the Midwest cruising
X all Factors, Hit all Men trying to Holla
Aye Hitman, let me holla at you
I brought enough for you and Showwoutt
And anybody that show out
Already got my other half, I’ll clear this fucking show out
'Bout to get this nigga dressed, no he ain’t about to go out
I need that old Hitman, tank top with the rope out
Yett Yett what? This 60's shit is something you don’t know 'bout
You said you wanted to ride, well Gerald let’s roll out
Me and my strap got two different visions but I see hands so clear
Mines going out blazing, clips dropping, no fear
Look like a car crash, he get the bag, no air
That tre see morgue and he don’t wanna go there
They say Tsu Surf cold but all he talk about is hoopin’
Cause I feel like I’m shooting when I squirt pounds
And as long as them cans is close, his wig in by the first round
If it’s hard but not real
I don’t care about ya bar he get two to the chest
I slid up on duke and drew with finesse
My big homie told me how them streets play out is wild
That mean if this mark is smart he’ll stay out the crowd
How you average 26.6, moonwalk on skates AND clap heat?
You are not a shooter
Feet, hand, sticks Amadou ya, that’s how I’ma do you
Raised in that croc pool, send some piranhas to ya
Lift the Hitman up to God, can I get a "hallelujah"?
I’m always reaching
Cause a paranoia trip is way better than nervous
Chilled against Charlie but still here
I think I handled that Clip better than Curtis
So Hitman will front and ShowwOutt is back
Boy I make Hitman' front show out his back
Fuck Cable, this could happen on demand, it’s go time
Was on the net flickin through your music, got bored in no time
How much you weighing, brother?
It don’t really matter when it’s yo' time
I send ‘em macs he pay per round, Verb, “It’s Showtime”
And every single nigga you see me with, I clap for ‘em
Gotta give him six man, can he?
Better pray Antoine come back for ‘em
They say Surf reach a lot, maybe cause Surf reach a lot
This new Cal I’m buying stupid, period, I’ll teach a block
Columbine, period, teacher, block
This gun talk 101, I can teach a block
I don’t know about you but I ain’t trying to get shot for shit
It became so normal, I reach when I ain’t got the shit
I ain’t a Proving Ground nigga, this ain't proven ground, nigga
Been getting a million views, what you proving now nigga?
Jersey!
[Round 1: Hitman Holla]
Besides the fact you got killed in your last war
You said you want that Hitman with that rope chain and that tank top? Be careful what you ask for
Fuck you and any nigga that co-sign him
Man I’ll hold your daughter over the boat like “Surf your daddy?”
“Yeah” “Well go find him!”
It’s a wrap now, two big 40s and a MAC round
The Shotgun I brought do way more than a pat down
You crippin'? I roll with B's
You talking all that basketball shit
Till I Eurostep with the switchblade and X em, over C's
Me lose tonight? No fucking way
Smack, do not call time cause I got a lot of shit I gotta fucking say
Example: I made my own name my nigga, I was in top form
I came to the stage, the people they got they popcorn
They call you Tsu Surf
Cause you waited on a Loaded Lux co-sign wave
And hopped on, that’s bitch shit
Riding a nigga dick that some sissy shit
Well I’m strapped in your neighborhood with two 30s
Let’s see if y’all really about that 60’s shit
Honestly fuck who came with you tonight y’all all lunch
I got a brand new black MAK-90 with no rubber grip
That’s for the raw bunch
You seen what I did to Ars and Red? This your way to learn
Man I done hung up more Jersey niggas than David Stern
I’m pissed and I’m not in the mood, don’t talk slick to me
I’m gifted, I win off presence; no Christmas tree
I’m way too much, to win you need a glitch from me
I’m Stevie Wonder, subtitles don’t mean shit to me
Y’all praise him for getting booked for possession?
I’m finna say, what y’all happy he floss with it?
Cause where I’m from we praise the shooters
Not the niggas that get caught with it
Man I’m undefeated with a weapon, shit, I’m a boss nigga
And it’s loaded, fuck Lux, this calicoe ain’t lost nigga
My boys in the hood, I brought plenty convicts
And death is the answer to any conflict
You brought Suge, I’m like “Why? That nigga’s a bitch”
We ain’t seen Shotgun put in work since Ricky got hit
Fuck peace I like the streets, shots and sirens
Whole hood got jobs cause the block is hiring
Potato on the deadbeat, that mean the pop is silent
Me and my niggas’ll walk through your neighborhood
Like we trying to stop the violence
Chill ‘fore I flash one, remix that blast son
“Holla let me get em!” - nah you fucked up my last one
I’m thinking 'bout shooting a nigga, pull that beam out
Shots go right through his chest, rip his spleen out
The doctors pull his dreams out, his mama…
“Fuck that Holla, I’ll knock him clean out!”
Say it again? Fuck it, I’ma remix it
Chill ‘fore I flash one, remix that blast son
“Holla let me get him!” - nah you fucked up my last one
“Holla let me get him!” - nah you fucked up my last one
I’m thinking 'bout shooting a nigga, pull that beam out
Shots go right through his chest, rip his spleen out
Shots, shots, shots go right through his chest, rip his spleen out
The doctors pull his dreams out, his mama…
“Fuck that Holla- fuck that Holla- fuck that Holla
I’ll knock him clean out!”
They ask why always use ShowwOutt as a prop
Be-motherfucking-cause
That nigga ain’t a prop, that’s my motherfucking blood
Big Gerald raised us on that motherfucking belt
And said fuck a fair fight that other brother better help!
Speaking of fight
Y’all thought that scuffle was fake and I hate that
It wasn’t a big deal for real, y’all made it that
Well I’m calling niggas’ bluff, Surf let’s have a cage match
Can’t nobody leave till a nigga dead, stage that
Whole bunch of mics on his head, I parade that
Uppercut and swing like an Atlanta Brave cat
Tay Roc, keep my motherfucking name out your mouth lil nigga
I’ll expose you
If you need help just say you need help, I’ll mold you
It’s either that or get a casket bed, they’ll close you
His bitch will have to open the box to see Roc like a proposal
Anybody taking bets shit, where the bets clowns?
I’ma let you in on a hint, this ain’t even my best round
What’s big money to small change?!
Two words after this… BALL GAME!
[Round 2: Tsu Surf]
See that’s where I can agree with you
That nigga from B-more, sometimes I wanna clothesline him
Dump him somewhere, and let somebody nobody knows find him
Cops and the dog, y’all wake me up when those find him
Tay get a tombstone, you see Roc on the rock like Hov signed em
Okay I got caught with a strap, fuck it, I did a bid with it
Thank God they caught him for possession
And they ain’t catch him for what he did with it
I’m wherever Yett Yett at, strap out, it ain’t in the tuck
You might have a calicoe loaded with hollows so a good six rounds could just be beginner’s luck
I came to murder something
I mean you got a few wins yeah that could be true
But I also know ShowwOutt got just as many wins as you
I can’t be mad at ShowwOutt but if you take Show out
Nobody to catch the gun or catch you
Somebody tell me what this show 'bout?
What you gon' do? Slide up on me like baggage claim
Re-remix, then clap me up kill?
Wait a minute, your lil brother took the tab on that bill
If I could reload with the same bullets that I shot with
I’m about to stuff these Mossberg shells in this Glock clip
Queen Latifah Set It Off mask, jump in the 380
Cops catch him, fuck it, it was ugly he could plead crazy
Lock pick the door, “Errrrhhh!!” they sleep baby
See your son “BAH!” I G Baby, G Baby
What I need to remix it or something? Nah, I won’t
Slide Smack a stack to get it in the building, you ain’t getting far
Fuck I gotta put it in subtitles? You ain’t get the bar?
Nigga you can’t read, it ain’t in the car
This brand new Nina, who gon take one for the team?
That was mean, hella body
But this pump like a jump, that bitch down to hit everybody
With a ladder long clip, that’s for when we ride though
That’s your lil man, when we catch him, he dying bro
Hit him with a 60 second clip to the slide Show
I got double 9s, my mans got double 9s, we’ll shake shit
I’ll let a round off from this semi tuck, that’s a great flip
He let a round off from that semi tuck, another great flip
Boy we’ll put 2 and 2 together like it make sense
When was your last body?
Phara and Shooney? That shit bored me
Only time I’m coming at two bitches is an orgy
I just cop some new bullets, I call 'em edibles
Is he a G? No a smith in his back will be terrible
My logic is if I send 100 shots he can’t duck em all
Clip of hot peppers, Holla I’ll pin yo' head to the fucking wall
And if I gotta ride or somethin', all black disguise or somethin'
Timbos, cargos, mask with a 9 or somethin'
You gon' need God, hiding tips from Saddam or somethin'
Mike Brown; that boy gon' die for nothing
[Round 2: Hitman Holla]
You asked when’s the last time I bodied… Phara and Shooney?
When the last time you bodied a nigga?
That nigga from the S.O.N.S.? Stop, y’all need to quit
D boys the only niggas that brag about getting rid of bricks
You had a classic vers’ Shine but he ain’t really shit
You shined vers’ X but that was really it
My right hand man will shoot you, then plead the fifth
But why? When I can give my own shot like I ain’t need the pick
My homie said “who?” I said “all”, I ain’t need to pick
The scope, I went right through the screen
Like I ain’t need the switch
Fresh out of retirement, yeah, they don’t like that
.45, bald head, they yelling Mike back
King of performance, yeah, they yelling Mike back
Worldstar TKO’s, they yelling Mike back
Kill one of mine that’s cool, I’m coming right back
And kill two of yours and make you come get a life back
That Internet beef you be on will get your wife snatched
That money Smack gave you tonight will get your wife back
So what if I’m whoopin yo' ass, Surf… (fight back!)
You be sleeping on Budden couch like that’s your father
Well what’s all that rapping for?
What’s all that kidnapping niggas for bricks
And all that trapping for?
Man stop, I’ll clap the 4, kill Surf
He gon' have to bury his son; I’ll Jackson Joe
Man what time your girl get off? We in that van waitin'
We all in the front yard like we landscapin'
We all in your living room with the cans blazin'
Boo bop, bop bop bop bop!
Ain’t Red your man? Just tell me give you that translation
I watched Goodz big boy you
What kind of star lets another nigga tell him go run a pack?
What you ain’t have them gadgets Blitty?
Well it’s gon' be Perfection
How this KOD if Tsu’s ever in me or Magic City
Oh y’all ain’t catch that? This Jersey Girl getting zipped up
In other words I got that metal on stage like a strip club
Random: but Suge so fucking terrible…
I could’ve beat both of y’all, same night
If they was on stage measuring hearts
Me and Suge would be the same height
Or Tsu Surf’s gon be a watery death, broad day, plain sight
His momma gon have to wear a bathing suit
And scuba gear to visit the grave site
If I use this heavy metal
Y’all gon have the crowd Surf and ‘em in the ambulance
Fuck y’all waiting on that subtitle or something?
I said if I use this heavy metal
Y’all gon have to crowd surf him to the ambulance
Fuck y’all waiting to remix that subtitle or something?
I said if I use this heavy metal y’all gon' have to crowd surf him to the… crowd surf him to the, crowd surf him to the ambulance
I’m just trying to get on the same page as you
How Arsonal and Red left you booked, Shotgun made you ride solo
And these the niggas that’s on stage with you?
That wasn’t played well, cause I guarantee if that was me
Magic, Ill and Verb would’ve spent every goddamn night in Detroit
Until I made bail
It was four of them, one pistol, you was gon' raise hell?
If it’s four of us it’s four pistols
We would’ve all had to sit in that same cell
But now it’s “hee-hee-haa-haa” man that’s weak shit
And how ironic
That this college nigga hipping this hood nigga on some street shit
I mean I could talk about how you be reach-
I’ma save that for Round 3, bitch!
Ball Game!
[Round 3: Tsu Surf]
I hear everything you saying
But let’s discuss something that’s apparent
Hitman Holla, COLD KILLA!
But Gerald Fulton grew up with both parents
Now I’m not knocking having both parents
But your situation wasn’t the worst like…
Everything mommy ain’t have on the 15th
Daddy could cover on the 1st
He probably taught you that 5 step drop back
And that spiral almost amazingly
I taught myself you gotta ease off that trigger slow
Let that hammer up simultaneously
He probably taught you about the birds and the bees
Chlamydia, clap and all about crabs
Man them niggas was out the window with the bird throwing out B’s, clappin', calling out “crabs!”
You was at practice shooting, if you miss you do suicides
Them niggas came through shooting, that was our practice
If we miss that was suicide
Every time I feel some type of way about my hood
These family niggas be reminding me
See we both real niggas but you a different kind to me
Math, English, Lunch, you was on a different time then me
I pull up, gym, I pull out; trigonometry
You had X squared over Y
Trying to find the remainder then add up
I’m asking my ex “why you asking me about numbers?
I’m trying to bag up”
Your father probably bought your mother coat
All your sports gear and your brother boots
No football, these gloves wasn’t for baseball
This face mask was for other use
Your mother was at the game, cardboard colors, fresh signs
My mother was in pain, you wanna speak to the inmate, press 9
You get off the court, woo!
Daddy right there “congratulations you did it”
I won’t say I’m jealous
But me and mommy had to wait to Wednesday to kick it
I know you won’t get it, shit I have flashbacks when I spit it
But Wednesday and Thursday that was assigned visits
I just feel like Big Gerald John Witherspoon and you Craig
What you doing with that Glock? I mean back on the west side they ain’t have guns we had these to rock
I admit if I was in his position I probably would’ve stopped
We got so much in common, both protected by them pops
The moral of this story:
All that fucking school and you ain’t learn shit!
Put him in my hood one time boy and you’ll turn bitch
If Verb would’ve holla’d for my father, he wouldn’t have heard shit!
If you say you was wrestling in the streets
You a Stone Cold Stunner
You was home with your mother watching wrestling
Rock, Raw, Chyna, Smackdown
We was in the trap house, raw, rock, china getting smacked down
Jersey!
[Round 3: Hitman Holla]
New Jersey was like the Celtics at one point in time
Y’all had the Big 4: KG, Paul Pierce, Ray Allen and Rondo
But y’all all split up and started falling off
It was only a matter of time though
I see y’all looking like, well who’s who?
Ars, he was once MVP, so that’s KG, that’s just right off the hunch
O-Red = Ray Allen
Cause he probably the deadliest shooter out of the bunch
Won’t y’all help me think of somebody for Suge cuz I’m trying
I mean I could call Shotgun “The Truth” but… I’ll be lying
And Surf you Rondo, not cause you be running shit
It’s cause your first name Rajon
Let’s bring that back, us, them, it ain’t hard to figure out
Who the ops? Hitman vs Arsonal
I got rid of that big ticket like I knew the cop
After that battle they looked at St. Louis and believed us
Hitman vs O-Red
I called him Ray Allen cause I sent that nigga to Jesus
Hitman vs Shotgun Suge, I’ma need a serious check
So that just leave Surf but, yet and still he ain’t a serious threat
Cause I’m appalled how
Rajon ain’t been on point since his Parents/Pierce left
Everything from AR’s to Glocks in his face
Chinese choppers, they sound different
You could tell they not from the states
“Braaackow! Braaackow” shit that’ll make Barack leave the states
My city got me paranoid, so I’m shooting at any cop on the chase
And if Qua jump in, he get it the same way
I killed his dog, now me and Calicoe fighting the same case
We two different Rugrats cause you a rat
And you tell what you seen for a hobby
I’m Angelica, that’s cause I get mean with the Tommy
Y’all remember that Michael Jackson Motown glove?
Well I use that to clean up the shotty
And left it on the scene…
Cops thought a nigga Billie Jean’d at the homi
U R in the middle of that *CH-CH* - that’s CHURCH
I mean before y’all say I’m hating, just explain to me
What church had to do with that situation?
Then you had the nerve to say
“I’m too advance for these niggas and it hurts”
No you just reach too fucking much and they let it work
Well since they let you get away with it
Let me try it, and I’ma do it worse
Check, code name, San Fran, that’s 40 9s and when it burst
U R in the middle of that SF - that’s SURF
I see you over there looking like “that last shit ain’t hit like that?”
But you would’ve screamed and went crazy
When he say shit like that
Man I got them thangs like Tambourines, we clap at who ever
I treat your block like a URL card and smack it together
They found his body so distorted he was backwards together
Me and ShowwOutt the male version of Serena and Venus
Same parents but we swing ratchets together
I got some shit that’ll flip a nigga, he’ll tumble on the spot
I don’t even drink but I took some shots
Then I stumbled to his pops
I’m like “I brought them Nick Cannons, you know?
Braataa Braataa, Brrrrrrrr-POP!”
Man I be feeling like a Piston in Detroit
When I’m drummin' on the block
You either gon' respect me or respect me, ain’t no in and out
Stay in your lane, don’t cross over like an in-an-out
It’s real where I’m from
You playing, you took the scrimmage route
It’s all fun ‘til you laying with your ligaments out
Surf I’m a beast, peep, I bring extenders out
A star that’ll play with them birds, I took the Emmitt route
You crippin' on the net, in person what that image bout?
Mush him in his face, I’m just trying to see what his niggas 'bout
Ball game…
